It is not pleasant to think that when Washington went back to his quiet
home on the Potomac he was not as generally beloved as when he took his
high office. He had had to disappoint a great many men who looked to him
to help their private ambition at the expense of the country. He had had
to enforce laws which some people looked upon as unjust. He had differed
from various public men as to the war between France and England, and
the payment of the debt, and other things, and it is so easy for all of
us to think that a man who differs from us is in some way a bad man. A
good many writers in the newspapers of that day had said hard things
about him. But, after all, the moment the country got into trouble, all
hearts turned toward him.
The men who had come into power in France after the Revolution of 1789
were proud, quarrelsome, and selfish. Because the Americans would not
side with the French in their quarrel with England, these men directed
American ships to be plundered. When the American agents in France
complained, they were insulted; there was danger that such conduct would
lead to war, and the American government began to get ready for it. The
first thing was to choose a commander for the army, and again all eyes
turned to Washington. In 1798 he was made Commander-in-chief, and for
the next year and a half he was closely engaged getting the army ready
for war. Happily it did not come.
[Illustration]
In the midst of this work General Washington's noble life was brought to
a sudden end. In December, 1799, he was taken with a violent disease of
the throat, from which he died on the 14th of that month. In his last
sickness he was brave, as he had been on the battle-field; patient, as
he had been in public council; and unselfish, as he had always been. "I
am not afraid to go," he said to those about him, and he begged them not
to take too much trouble for him. The pain he bore was very great, but
he never complained.
When he died, grief spread like a shadow over the whole land. In every
home men felt that they had lost a faithful friend, a wise and loving
guide. Wherever men gathered, words of sorrow for his loss, and praise
for his great life, were spoken. Nor this alone. The French Generals,
against whom he was preparing at the moment of his death to defend his
country in arms, wrapped their flags in mourning in honor of his memory.
The English ships in the Channel hung their flags at half-mast in sign
of the grief of the English people. Surely no better proof of his high
character could be given. It had won the love of those who had fought
against him, and those who were on the point of going to battle with
him.
It was found by the will which Washington left that he had given freedom
to the slaves which he had held during his life, and whom he could not
free before; that he had provided for all the aged and weak among them,
and for the children; and that he had left large sums of money to give
free schooling to the children of those in his neighborhood who could
not get schooling otherwise. His last thoughts were of others, and how
to do them good.
Indeed, the thing which made Washington so great was the earnest way in
which he tried to find what was right, and to do it. Other men have had
greater gifts of mind than he, and could do what he could not. But no
man was ever more true to duty, small or great. At each moment he asked
himself what he ought to do, and he spared no pains to make a true
answer to that question. He carefully studied the rights of others as
much as his own. He looked ahead to see what would follow his acts, that
he might do no wrong by mistake. And when he had made up his mind what
was right, he bent himself to do it. No fear for himself, no love of
ease, no hope of gain, prevented him from going the way that he thought
he ought to go. It was given to him to serve his country better than any
other man has ever served it, and to leave a name which will be honored
for a long time. But if we were to try to tell the secret of his
greatness, it could be done in this short sentence: He always tried his
best to do his duty.
THE END.
[Illustration: FLIGHT OF THE ARROWS.]
AN INDIAN GAME.
When not on the war-path, or engaged in hunting, Western Indians spend
much of their time in various games or contests of skill. Of these
contests one of the most popular is flying the arrow, a sport to which
the Indians of all tribes devote considerable time and attention.
When this game is proposed, each of those who wish to join in it lays on
the ground something of small value, such as a pipe, quiver of arrows, a
bow, spear, tobacco pouch, or knife, and when all have been collected,
the value of the whole makes a prize well worth trying for.
Then bows are carefully examined, a dozen of the best arrows in the
quiver selected, and the first of the competitors steps out in front of
the rest, and prepares to shoot, not at a mark, but straight up into the
air. His object is to have as many arrows in the air as possible at the
same time; and he who can send up the greatest number, before the first
touches the ground, wins the game and all the prizes.
But few of the most expert of the Indian bow-men have been known to put
more than ten arrows into the air at once, and to do even this requires
extraordinary skill and strength. The arrows, ten or twelve in number,
are held in the hand that grasps the bow, and the rapidity with which
each is fitted to the string and sent upward is truly wonderful.
SHIP-BUILDING.
BY LIEUT. J. A. LOCKWOOD.
Few people who are not sailors at all realize what a wonderful thing a
ship is, and of how many different parts one is made up.
In the first place, a model of the proposed vessel has to be made. The
model is an American invention. Formerly what was known as the draught
of a ship took the place of the model. In the draught the proposed ship
was represented on paper from three points of view. The first gave a
complete view of the side; the second, or body plan, showed the breadth,
having described on it every timber composing the frame of the ship;
lastly came the horizontal plan, showing the whole as if seen from
above. The model is much simpler than the old-fashioned draught. It is
simply a miniature ship.
Once having a perfect model, the good ship-constructor feels that half
his battle is already won. It may be as well here to mention the fact
that, as a rule, the length of a ship is five times her greatest breadth
of beam; her depth two-thirds of her breadth. Steamers are longer in
proportion than sailing vessels. This is on account of the extra speed
to be attained, even at the expense of strength.
After the model has been approved, the building of the ship begins. Most
of our ships are now built of wood from the South, where, since the
war, entire forests can be bought for a song.
The keel of a ship has been likened to the backbone of a man, running,
as it does, from stem to rudder. It consists of several timbers scarfed
or pieced together, and under it is the shoe, a kind of second keel, but
differing from the keel proper in that it is only loosely joined to it,
whereas the keel is bolted to the ship's bottom through and through. The
reason for this is that in case of grazing a rock a vessel having a shoe
will, in most cases, part with the shoe, thus saving the keel, and
escaping without serious injury. Corresponding with the keel outside is
a set of timbers within the frames, known as the keelson. On each side
of the keelson are assistant-keelsons to give greater strength.
On the after-end, and morticed into the keel, is the stern-post, another
important timber, all the after-part of a ship curving gracefully toward
this post. The rudder-stock works on the stern-post, which performs the
double duty of supporting the after-timbers and the rudder.
Spaces are purposely left between a vessel's frames for "salting down."
Sometimes this salt can be seen oozing out of her sides after a long
voyage. Two hundred hogs-heads of salt is not an unusual quantity for an
ordinary-sized ship. It is the only thing that will prevent what is
known as the "dry-rot" from attacking her timbers.
As a rule, every wooden vessel's ribs are of oak, and, for greater
strength, preference is given to the best qualities of live-oak. As a
ship's side curves, her outside planking has to be forced into place,
and for the short curves near the bows and stern, the planks have to be
steamed, and bent on while moist, as otherwise they would crack and
split in the process. After these outside planks are all on, the calkers
begin their work, which consists in filling in the spaces between the
planks with oakum, mallets and calking-irons being used for this
purpose. These seams are afterward covered with pitch.
In order to prevent barnacles from injuring a ship's bottom, sheathing
is put on. This usually consists of a composition of zinc and copper,
and covers all parts of a vessel exposed to the action of the water.
In Longfellow's beautiful poem, "The Building of the Ship," the reader
is led to infer that the masts are "stepped" (_i. e._, put in) before
the launching occurs. But practically a ship is first launched, and then
shears are rigged, and she is fitted out with her spars.
[Illustration: "A LITTLE MISER."]
LIVING HONEY-COMBS.
BY CHARLES MORRIS.
"Isn't it queer what dumb things animals are?" asked Harry Mason, as he
looked up inquiringly into the face of his uncle. "Here's my dog Roger;
why, he knows nothing except to hunt for bones, and to bark at tramps.
And there are the cows, and the horses, and the pigs--what do they know
that's of any account? I'd like somebody to tell me that."
"They know enough to know when dinner is ready, and I could not say that
for some boys that I am acquainted with," replied his uncle,
quizzically.
"Oh yes, that's me, I know," rejoined Harry, laughing. "But that's
because I have something else to think of. Now they don't think of
anything but their dinners. And they are always eating. That's about all
they live for."
"Perhaps they think more than you imagine, Harry," said his uncle,
looking down from his arm-chair which he had leaned back comfortably
against a tree. "They don't talk, it is true; but they have other ways
of showing their thoughts. I could tell you some stories about the good
sense of animals that would open your eyes."
"Oh yes, about elephants squirting water all over a tailor, and that
sort of thing," said Harry, disdainfully. "I have read all that. But I
mean something else. Why can't they build themselves houses, like men
do, with chimneys and fires? And why don't they have farms, and roads to
travel in, and barns?"
"And cows to milk?" broke in little Willie Mason; "and somebody to work
for them and to fight for them--and--and pies, and candy, and such?"
Uncle Ben looked down with a comical expression upon the eager little
fellow, with his bright young face and his sparkling blue eyes.
"Perhaps they do," he said.
"Oh, now, Uncle Ben!" cried Harry and Willie in chorus. "You're only
funning now. Who ever heard of cows building houses?"
"I didn't say cows," replied Uncle Ben.
"But there can't be any animal that builds houses and barns, and raises
crops," persisted Harry.
"Indeed there is, then," rejoined his uncle. "And milks cows, too, and
has armies and workmen, as Willie says; and builds roads and bridges,
and digs tunnels, and carries umbrellas. I don't know any that bakes
pies, but I could name more than one that lives on candy."
"Now I know that Uncle Ben is funning," cried Willie, gleefully; "for he
has got those wrinkles about his eyes, and he never has them except when
he's funning."
"What kind of animals are they, I would like to know?" asked Harry, who
was determined to put his learned uncle to the test. "I never came
across any of their houses, I know."
"Indeed you have, then. I have seen you, more than once, shut their
front doors for them, without asking leave or license."
Uncle Ben, as he spoke, had leaned over to the ground. He now rose, with
a little black travelling speck on his finger.
"Here is one of them," he said, "out for an airing."
"That!" cried Harry, contemptuously. "Why, that's only an ant. I said
animals. I didn't say ants."
"Oho! Is that it? An ant is not an animal, then?"
"I guess not," broke in Willie, decidedly. "Animals eat and drink, and
walk and run, and--and climb trees, and whistle, and bark. Who ever
heard an ant bark?"
"Or a cow?" rejoined his uncle. "As for running, I think this little
fellow can run fast enough. And he eats, too. And he can climb trees. I
don't say that he can whistle, but neither can a frog. I have no doubt
that our ant can talk to his comrades as easily as your dog can converse
with his friends."
"But ants," said Harry, doubtfully. "Don't you forget, Uncle Ben, you
said they built houses and barns, and milked cows, and made roads and
bridges, and had farms, and kept soldiers and workers?--I forget the
rest. Yes, you said some of them lived on candy; and that is the
queerest of all. I'd just like you to tell me what kind of candy it is,
and how they make it; and I'd like to see one of their houses."
"Their houses are all built under-ground," replied Uncle Ben. "There are
too many boys about, with clumsy feet, for them to build their delicate
palaces above-ground. But if you were only to open an ant-hill, and
trace out all its entries and passages, and its rooms and granaries, and
its stairways and its nurseries, you might have more respect for these
little creatures. If you want to see a larger ant-house, you will have
to go to Africa. There the white ants build huge houses twelve feet
high, and firm enough for a dozen men to stand on."
"And full of rooms," began Harry, but he was interrupted by his eager
little brother, whose curiosity ran in another direction.
"Just tell us 'bout the candy, Uncle Ben," he demanded. "I don't care
nothing 'bout the houses now. I want to know 'bout the candy."
"I think that Harry has the floor," said his uncle, reprovingly.
"Well, never mind the houses, and all the other queer things," said
Harry. "Not just now, I mean; I want to know about the candy too."
Uncle Ben settled himself back in his chair, crossed his legs, and
prepared for a story; while Willie hung to his knee on one side, and
Harry stretched himself in the grass on the other, and Roger, the dog,
went off on a butterfly hunt. He evidently was not interested in natural
history.
"Ants are not the only animals that live on candy," said Uncle Ben, as
he pinched Willie's ear. "There are bees, and wasps, and butterflies.
And even such great creatures as bears. For bears sometimes break into
bees' confectionary shop, and gulp down all its contents."
The two boys looked at each other dubiously. What in the world could
Uncle Ben mean?
"It isn't honey you mean?" asked Harry, wonderingly. "That isn't candy."
"It is not cooked candy, I will admit," replied his uncle. "But it is
flower candy. It is the candy that Nature makes, and lays up in her
pretty blossom cups to feed insects that have a sweet tooth."
"But ants don't make honey-comb," cried Willie. "It is the bees do that.
Nobody ever heard of an ant honey-comb."
"Don't be too sure of that, my boy; some folks have heard of many things
that have never travelled to your ears. Why, there is an ant out West
that makes a living honey-comb. Some of the ants themselves are turned
into honey-combs to feed the others during the long winters."
Harry rose to his feet. He could not continue to lie down lazily when
such marvellous stories as these were afloat.
"Living honey-combs!" he ejaculated.
"They are from the West, you know; the land of wonders," explained his
uncle. "They are found in New Mexico. And they were discovered last
summer in Colorado by a Philadelphia gentleman named Dr. McCook. This
gentleman examined their mode of life, and brought some of them home
with him, and tells wonderful stories about them."
"But won't you tell us all about them right away, Uncle Ben?"
"Yes, right away," echoes Willie.
"Well, then," began their uncle, "they live in nests dug in a stony
soil, and having a great many rooms and passages. And in some of these
rooms are found the queerest creatures that were ever heard of. Little
living ants, with half their bodies turned into great bags of honey.
They look exactly like great amber-colored peas, with a black pin's head
stuck on one side of them. This black dot is the head and forward part
of the ant. All the rest of its body is converted into a great
honey-bag, and is swelled out with its sweet contents until it is as big
as a large pea."
"And are all the ants like that?" asked Harry.
"No, only a certain number of them. The others go out foraging for
honey. When they obtain it, they come back, hold their mouths to that of
the honey-bag ant, and force the honey into its body. There are some
three or four hundred of these honey-bearers in each ant-hill. And that
is the way the ants lay up their winter provisions. These living
honey-combs do not do anything; they are too heavy for that. They only
hang by their feet to the ceiling of one of the under-ground rooms. If
one of them happens to drop off, one of the other ants picks him up and
drags him back again. It is no light task, either, for one of these
little fellows to carry a great bag of honey, fifty times his own
weight, up a perpendicular wall and across a ceiling."
"I should think not indeed," cried Harry.
"But how do they use the honey?" asked Willie, curiously. "I should
think when these honey-ants eat it, that would be the end of it."
"They feed it back to the others as they require it," replied Uncle Ben.
"When one of the ants is hungry, he goes up to a honey-bearer, taps him
to let him know what he is after, and puts his mouth to his. The
honey-bearer then seems to slightly compress his bag of sweets, until
some of it flows out of his mouth into that of the other. When the
latter is satisfied, he walks away, and the living honey-comb takes a
rest until some other hungry individual calls upon him."
"Well, that is very curious, I know," cried Harry. "And does the honey
last all winter? Is that all they have to feed on?"
"Yes, so far as is known."
"I guess the honey-bags must be pretty empty by spring, then," said
Willie.
"I have not quite finished the story yet," continued Uncle Ben. "We have
talked about how bears feed on the honey-comb of the bees. Now men feed
on these living honey-combs."
"Oh, now, Uncle Ben!"
"Yes they do. In New Mexico it is the custom to have a plate full of
honey-ants on the dinner table for dessert. The poor things can not get
away, of course. After dinner the folks there pick them up one by one,
squeeze the bags between their teeth, and suck out the honey, throwing
the empty bags away."
"I don't like such a fashion as that," cried Harry, decidedly. "Why,
they are regular cannibals."
"And what do the rest of the poor ants do for their honey?" asked
Willie.
"I fear they must pass a hard winter, if they do not die of hunger,"
replied Uncle Ben.
BEAUTIES OF THE UNDER-GROUND WORLD.
It has often happened that in the course of excavations in search of
minerals, the workmen have come upon some singular hollows or openings
in the rock, caused by convulsions of the earth or earthquakes, or
caverns through which torrents have flowed in former ages, and have left
them for nature to ornament in the most beautiful and fantastic manner.
You will understand how the natural caverns are formed that you may have
seen on the sea-coast; the moving waters, carrying with them gravel and
sand, enter the cracks and crevices in the rocks, and increase their
size by wearing away portions of the rock until caverns are formed. Some
of these are of immense size, and the extent of many is unknown.
Many caverns are lined with beautiful crystals, called _calcareous
spar_, or substances containing much lime, and generally colored by the
impurities of the water that has dropped on them. Sometimes these
crystals are of a pure white, and have, when the cave is lighted up, a
richness and transparency that can scarcely be imagined. Others have the
appearance of stone, moss, and shells, in every variety of color.
Caverns of enormous extent occur in Iceland; that of Gurtshellir being
forty feet in height, fifty in breadth, and nearly a mile in length. It
is situated in the lava that has flowed from a volcano. Beautiful black
stalactites hang from the spacious vault, and the sides are covered with
glazed stripes, a thick covering of ice, clear as crystal, coating the
floor. One spot in particular is mentioned by a traveller, when seen by
torch-light, as surpassing anything that can be described. The roof and
sides of the cave were decorated with the most superb icicles,
crystallized in every possible form, many of which rivalled in delicacy
the clearest froth or foam, while from the icy floor arose pillars of
the same substance, in all the curious and fantastic shapes that can be
imagined. A more brilliant scene, perhaps, never presented itself to the
human eye.
A WELL-MEANING LITTLE BUSYBODY.
BY MRS. L. G. MORSE.
They say I am full of mischief, but they don't speak the truth. Maria is
the only one that knows, and she says I'm a busybody. Mamma hugs me
tight, and says I will be a great help when I am big, but papa tosses me
high up to the ceiling, and says I won't wait to grow up, and that I
make the very best use of my time now. He knows as much as Maria, for
that's just what I do--I use my time. I did so much work yesterday that
I nearly got tired. First, mamma said she was going to Cousin Alice's
wedding. I knew she was, for I saw her best bonnet out of its box on her
bed. So, while she was talking to Katy in the kitchen, I climbed all the
way up stairs, and dragged it down to her myself.
I don't know what they'd have done without me yesterday, for after mamma
had gone, Maria was careless. She left the basin of water on Nelly's
little table. She forgot all about it, so I went, like a good girl, to
put it away for her, 'cause I was afraid that mamma might come back and
knock it over on to the carpet. It wasn't _my_ fault that it slid out of
my hands and broke itself. _I_ was careful, and Maria said nobody else
but just me would ever have thought of putting it away for her.
My sister Bessie don't try half so hard to help people. She sat in her
little arm-chair all the time, tying up Susan Hopkins's joints. She
thinks Susan is the best of all our dolls, but I don't. Her joints are
all loose, and her legs rattle. Bessie isn't so much use as I am. She
kept out of the way, tending to Susan, while Maria had to change every
one of my clothes, 'cause the naughty water sloshed; and Bessie didn't
even pick up the broken pieces of basin for poor Maria! Maria told her
not to touch 'em, for fear of getting her feet wet and cutting her
fingers.
Afraid! They're afraid of everything. The very minute Maria had me
dressed again, I began to pick up the pieces for her, and I didn't cry
even when I _did_ cut my hand, and the bleed got all over my nice clean
apron. I don't think it was very polite of Maria to set me down so hard
on the sewing machine, and tell me not to move 'till she'd cleared up
the floor.
Bessie is bigger than I am, but she isn't a busybody at all. She only
plays while there's work going on; and only see how much work I've done
this morning! I've fixed up mamma's work-basket for her, and I've
stuffed all the rags and little pieces of our new dresses that were
piled up on the machine into papa's collar drawer. Then I cleared up a
whole lot of muss after Maria. She went to answer the door-bell, and
while she was gone, I took papa's clothes-whisk and swept up a big pile
of dust she left on the hearth, and dumped it where nobody can see it,
in a dark corner of the closet, under mamma's dresses.
It was real lucky I went to the closet, too, for I found the waist of
mamma's best walking suit. I heard her say one day that she was going to
change the trimming on the sleeves, so I took it out, and got a needle
and thread, and I'm going to do it my own self for her. Bessie's darning
a stocking that Maria gave her, and I'll sit right in front of her, so I
can see how she pulls the needle through. The ends of the lace get right
in the way of the needle, though, and I don't know but what I'll have to
cut some of it off, so as to sew it better. I am going to hurry fast,
and see if I can get it done before mamma comes home from market.
[Illustration]
TWO LITTLE SUN-BONNETS.
Under the shade of the sun-bonnet's crown,
One head is golden, and one head is brown;
Blue eyes and hazel eyes sparkle with fun,
Hide and go seek, as the gay dimples run.
Four little hands overbrimming with flowers,
Four little feet tripping through the blithe hours;
Two little maidens, so happy and bright,
Busy all day, and _so tired_ at night.
VOYAGE OF THE PAPER DOLLS.
BY MATTHEW WHITE, JUN.
It was a hot summer afternoon, and the great play-room in the garret was
deserted.
There was not even breeze enough blowing in at the open window to stir
Angelina Mary, Matilda Agnes, and General Adolphus Popgun, as they lay
upon their paper backs on the table.
"Oh dear," complained Angelina, with a sigh, "I do wish those girls
wouldn't leave us in such attitudes when they go down to dress! It's so
undignified."
"But you must remember, my love," rejoined her friend Matilda, "that it
has a tendency to sprain our ankles if we remain long standing; and,
by-the-way, did you not hear the children speak about our having some
new paper-muslins?" and thereupon the two ladies fell to discussing
dress with great animation. General Popgun growing meanwhile quite
puffed out with pride, as he reflected on the fact that his blazing red
coat, ornamented with yellow braid, and his jaunty cap with its
conspicuous tricolored pompon, must be particularly becoming to him.
He was not as yet very well acquainted, with his two companions, having
only arrived at the post (as he professionally termed the garret) the
previous day, and since then he had been obliged to attend so many
drillings of the tin soldiers that he had enjoyed but few opportunities
for social recreation. Now, however, he thought he would enter into
conversation with the two fair members of his race beside him, and was
just endeavoring to think of something new to say about the weather,
when a great clattering was heard on the stairs, and the next instant
two boys made their appearance in the garret, both breathing very hard,
and looking as if they had been running races with the sun.
"I beat, anyhow," said one, as he sat down on an old trunk and wiped his
face.
"All right," returned the other; adding, "and now what'll we get to put
in the _Foam_?" and then the two rummaged around the room for a while,
till suddenly one of them pounced upon the table where lay the paper
dolls, and catching all three of them up in his hand, cried out: "Here!
these'll do. Come on, Frank;" and the boys hurried down stairs again
with even more racket than they had made coming up.
As may be imagined, Angelina Mary and Matilda Agnes grew paler than
foolscap with fright when they felt Tom's fingers closing over them so
roughly, and General Adolphus Popgun, although somewhat nervous himself,
felt called upon to postpone his weather remarks, and endeavor, instead,
to calm the fears of his companions.
"Pray don't be alarmed, I beg," he said; "I have no doubt we are being
transported to a grand review of the Tin Regiment. It will be a very
fine sight, and I shall try to provide seats for you in the grand
stand."
The boys, however, did not stop at the garden play-house, where the tin
soldiers were encamped, but kept straight onto the gate, passed through
the latter, and then walked briskly off down the road. The General
ventured to peep out between the fingers that inclosed him, and to his
horror saw that Frank held in his hand a little boat six inches long,
roughly whittled out of a common stick of wood.
And soon his dread anticipations were realized, for striking into a path
that ran through a corn field, the boys made straight for the brook,
where Frank proceeded to cut a long switch from a willow-tree, while Tom
took out three pins from his coat, and deliberately impaled the two
paper ladies to the stern, and General Popgun to the bow of the boat.
Fortunately the pin in each case pierced only some portion of the dress
of the terror-stricken creature, otherwise the consequences might have
been most tragical.
And now the _Foam_ was launched, and the ladies and the General floated
upon the rippling deep.
"Hi, don't they look fine?" cried Tom, as with the long willow switch he
guided the little bark on its course down the stream, while his cousin
walked by his side, much interested in the operation.
Having recovered from their first shock, the passengers began to look
about them and enjoy their voyage.
"How very delightful!" exclaimed Matilda Agnes. "'Tis quite a pity,
General, that you're not an Admiral."
"Oh yes. I always adored the navy," added Angelina Mary.
At these remarks the General blushed as red as the white paper out of
which he was manufactured would allow, and hastened to change the
subject by calling attention to the beauties of the country through
which they were passing. He had just begun a poetical discourse on the
wild flowers which an army tramples down on the field of battle, when
Tom's switch happened to strike him in the face with such force as
caused him to flutter for an instant like a sheet of paper in a high
wind.
And now the ladies' fears returned, for the brook was growing wider and
wider, and the _Foam_ drifting constantly further and further from the
bank.
Suddenly Tom, who had been busy talking about water turtles with Frank,
noticed this, and struck out with his willow branch to bring the truant
back, but it was too late; the boat had got beyond his reach, and was
now floating swiftly down the middle of the stream with the current.
The ladies screamed, and the General groaned; but as neither the screams
nor the groans were louder than paper is thick, they were not heard by
human ears.
"The boys will surely save us," said Matilda Agnes, hopefully. "We are
too valuable to lose, to say nothing of the boat."
Before long, however, Tom exclaimed: "Oh, I'm tired trudging after the
thing. Come on, Frank, let's go back home, and I'll beat you a game of
croquet."
"But the dolls," the other ventured to interpose. "What'll the girls say
when we tell 'em what's become of them? They'll be mad, won't they?"
"Oh, I guess not, if we make up a nice story about their sailing off
down to the ocean, and going to Europe and Africa, and seeing gorillas
and bears, and kings and princes;" and with these words Tom gave up the
pursuit, and, followed by Frank, soon disappeared in the woods.
Being thus cruelly abandoned, with not so much as a match at hand by
means of which to row themselves ashore, the three paper voyagers gave
up all as lost, and were beginning to bemoan their awful fate, when the
General suddenly spoke out, in cheerful tones: "Perhaps somebody'll pick
us up."
"Or a steam-boat may run us down," added Angelina Mary, somewhat
spitefully.
"Maybe we'll land on a water-lily," murmured Matilda Agnes, with a
poetical sigh.
But time passed, and none of these things happened. The little boat
drifted on and on, through woods full of singing-birds, and by fields
covered with waving grain, beside houses, around hills, under bridges,
and over mill-dams. To be sure, when they emerged from the latter, the
paper travellers were wet to the skin, but the _Foam_ always came out
right side up, and the sun soon dried them.
By-and-by the sun went down, and when the moon rose the little river had
changed into a big one, and the tiny boat still floated down the middle
of it, on and on, all through the night, and during the whole of the
next day; and discovering that nothing terrible befell them, the three
paper dolls began to grow quite contented with their life of constant
change; and when they sailed down past the great city, with its many
piers, big steamers, middle-sized ferry-boats, and little tugs, they
forgot all about being frightened, so interested were they in gazing at
the strange sights about them.
And thus they floated down the harbor, out at the Narrows, and so into
the great broad ocean, and there they may be drifting to this very day.
At any rate, the girls say they are going to keep a good look-out for
them when they go to Europe.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.]
HONOLULU, SANDWICH ISLANDS.
Having seen the charming little paper, HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, and
being in a distant country, I thought that now and again a letter
from this place might please some of the dear children.
The little folks here are very dark-skinned, not black. They use a
very different language, and call everything by a different name.
Not having any snow, the boys go to the top of a steep mountain,
and slide down its side on sleds they make for themselves. Some
are boards, and some only palm leaves. The mountain is very steep,
so that it looks as though the children must be killed in coming
down its sides. Fancy yourselves sliding down the side of an old
volcano on a palm leaf!
Sometimes the boys go and jump from thirty feet above the water
down into it, and go out of sight. After a time they come up a
long way off, and run up the rocks, or crawl up, and then jump off
again.
One morning the boys started off, and were found sitting in a
sugar plantation eating sugar. Though they do not steal as a rule,
yet, I am sorry to say, they think it no harm to take fruits. Some
day I will write the children some more strange things.
AUNT ALICE.
* * * * *
CHAMPAIGNE, ILLINOIS.
My little nephew and all of us enjoy the YOUNG PEOPLE very much.
It gets a pretty thorough reading, for I take it to school, where
the pupils have it for a week, any who recite perfect lessons
taking it in turn. Then I send it to my little niece in
Indianapolis, who, after reading it, sends it to her cousin. You
see this one copy has a considerable circulation, and I trust that
many of these readers will take the paper for themselves another
year.
Your well-wisher,
M. O. A.
The above letter is very gratifying, and we thank the writer heartily
for her kind wishes on behalf of YOUNG PEOPLE.
* * * * *
VICKSBURG, MICHIGAN.
I am nine years old. I take YOUNG PEOPLE, and think it the nicest
little paper I ever saw. Little Netta Franklin, the little girl
whose letter you acknowledged in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 17, and said it
was so neatly printed, was my little sister. She died several
weeks ago, and I miss her very much. I am alone now, with neither
sister nor brother. She thought so much of YOUNG PEOPLE! She had
mamma read a story to her out of it the night before she died.
MOLLY W. F.
* * * * *
DOWNIEVILLE, CALIFORNIA.
I wrote a few weeks ago and told YOUNG PEOPLE of the pleasant
weather we were having, although the snow was still on the ground.
But the very next day it began to rain, and before night it was
snowing. A few days afterward the snow was four feet deep in
places where there was none before. The storm lasted two weeks,
and my uncle, who has lived here for more than twenty-eight years,
says he never knew anything like it before.
I feel very sorry for those Indians Bertie Brown wrote about, and
I think he drew a very nice picture for a boy only nine years old.
I have a cat named Frolic. He is just one year younger than I am.
He is full of tricks. One is this: when auntie is making cake, he
always sits quietly at the end of the table and watches her. When
supper-time comes he waits patiently till we are finished, then
cries for his share. Just to tease him, uncle gives him a piece of
bread, but Frol knows the difference between bread and cake, and
he will not touch a mouthful of anything until he gets his cake.
We had thirteen cats once, but some of them are dead, and now we
have only seven.
MARY A. R.
* * * * *
PRAIRIE PLAINS, TENNESSEE.
I am a little girl eleven years old. My father was hurt on the
railroad and died, and I and my mamma live with a family that have
no children at home, so I am the only child in the house. Uncle
Henry sends me YOUNG PEOPLE. He is not my own uncle, but I love
him just as well as though he were.
I have a nice shepherd puppy. It is just as cunning as it can be.
There is no school here that I can go to, so I study at home. We
have eight cows. I can milk, and I can strain the milk and skim it
too. One evening I skimmed sixteen pans.
SUSIE H.
* * * * *
MOUNTAINVILLE, NEW YORK.
I live in the country, and write to tell you how much pleasure the
charming little paper YOUNG PEOPLE gives me. I only wish it came
every day instead of once a week. My little sister Ethel is
greatly interested in all the stories, and begs me to read them
over and over.
Mamma has over two hundred little chickens. I have made a pet of
one of them. It follows me wherever I go, and does not seem
contented without me. We had quite a curiosity the other day in
the shape of a little chicken. It had four legs and four wings,
and was otherwise perfect. Unfortunately it did not live, which
was a great disappointment to us.
FLORENCE C.
* * * * *
NEW ALBANY, INDIANA.
I read so many letters in the Post-office Box from other little
girls that I thought I would write myself. I like YOUNG PEOPLE so
much that I can hardly wait until it comes.
I had some pet chickens. They were so tame they would eat out of
my hand. I had a bird too, but it fell into its bath-tub, and was
drowned. My only pet now is a cat named Kitty Clover.
N. V. L.
* * * * *
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS.
I am six years old. My cousin, who lives with me, has taken YOUNG
PEOPLE since the first number. My sister is writing this for me,
because I can not write very well yet, but I tell her just what to
say.
I have lots of pets. I live in Chicago, not far from the Park,
where I go to ride in a little goat-cart drawn by two goats that
my uncle Will gave me last Fourth of July, which was my birthday.
I have a pet canary which I have made very tame by catching it and
making it accustomed to being handled. Now it is so tame that it
will come when I call, "Goldy, Goldy," even if it is in another
room. It also does many funny tricks. It will pull all the pins
out of the cushion, and the hair-pins from mamma's hair.
I have a parrot which talks French, because we got it in France,
when we were there winter before last; also, a little white kitten
named Snowdrop, which always goes to sleep with Cecil, my dog.
My uncle has three horses, and one is so small and gentle that I
am learning to ride him.
I like to read the other children's letters in the Post-office
Box, and I can read them myself, except the long words.
My papa is in China. He sent me a little silk dressing-gown last
Christmas, and a tea-set.
I have learned to speak "Bofe dem Chillun's White," and mamma and
I think it is lovely.
CLARENCE D.
* * * * *
ROCHESTER, NEW YORK.
I am but a tiny baby, but my mamma takes YOUNG PEOPLE for me--so
she says; but when I grab it to cut my teeth on it, my mamma grabs
it away, which don't seem as if it were much mine.
I live in Rochester, and I am in a farm-house near the lake for
the summer. The lake air is good for little babies.
I go all over the farm in my little carriage, sometimes 'way out
in the field to see the cow from which I get milk fresh twice a
day. The man who takes care of her calls her Betsy, but my mamma,
who is a Baltimorean, calls her Madame Bonaparte, because she was
brought to the farm just after Madame Bonaparte's death. I feed
her on bread and sugar, to pay for her milk.
When I get bigger I'm going to be like Thackeray's little girl in
the Rose and the Ring. I'm going to "dance and sing, and do all
sorts of t'ing," and write you a real big letter.
"BABY HELEN."
* * * * *
NEW YORK CITY.
I have taken YOUNG PEOPLE from the first number, and I like it
very much. I like the story "For Mamma's Sake" best of all. I have
no brothers or sisters, but I have a pet canary I call Beauty.
Another little girl wrote that she had one by that name. Mine is
very tame. I have only lived in the city about eight months. I
always lived in the country, in Connecticut. I like it better than
the city. I am eleven years old.
MYRTLE E. S.
* * * * *
SALEM, OHIO.
I have tried Puss Hunter's recipe for cake, and it was very nice.
I am going to try R. C. W.'s recipe for candy, in YOUNG PEOPLE No.
28. I hope it will be a success.
I expect to have a young turtle given to me soon, and I should
like to tame it, if I can. Is there any reader of YOUNG PEOPLE who
can tell me how to tame a turtle?
I have a great many dolls, and I think a good deal of them all. I
have a wax doll named Maud, and a china doll named Nellie, and
another named Linnie. I like Nellie better than all the rest.
JESSIE B.
* * * * *
YOUNG PEOPLE is a very welcome visitor at our house. I like
especially the pieces entitled "Easy Botany." I would like very
much to exchange roots and seeds of wild flowers with any
correspondents of our Post-office Box.
FRANCES M. HEATON,
Flushing, Long Island.
* * * * *
FITCHBURG, MASSACHUSETTS.
My father has taken HARPER'S WEEKLY twenty-three years, and has it
all bound. Now I take YOUNG PEOPLE, and at the end of the year I am
going to have my paper bound too. I have a little baby brother,
three months old, and I think he is cunning. I also have a new
cart, made in Leominster. I go to school, and every Friday night I
go to grandma's, and stay over Saturday.
CHARLES H. P.
* * * * *
SAUGUS, MASSACHUSETTS.
I am seven years old. I live on the bank of a river and at the
foot of a hill. Some of the rocks that surround us are full of red
jasper, and parties come from the cities near by to gather
specimens. I go to the sea-shore every summer together with my two
little sisters. We pick up lovely stones and shells. My pets are
twenty little black and white chickens, and a nice kitty named
Tabby Gray. I made a doll's cake by Puss Hunter's recipe. It was
very nice indeed.
GERTRUDE H. N.
* * * * *
CONCORDIA, KANSAS.
I made cake from the recipe given by Bessie L. S. in YOUNG PEOPLE
No. 28, and thought it very nice. But I think I put a little too
much egg in it.
I send a recipe for crullers for Puss Hunter's Cooking Club: One
heaping cup of sugar; half a cup of sweet milk; one table-spoonful
of lard; three eggs well beaten; one heaping tea-spoonful of
baking-powder; flavor with cinnamon or lemon. I read all the
letters in the Post-office Box.
GRACE MYRTLE G.
This little housewife forgot to state the amount of flour required to
complete her recipe; but any little girl's mamma will say how much is
necessary to make the batter stiff enough for crullers.
* * * * *
BRISTOL, RHODE ISLAND.
Here is a recipe for ginger-cake that I send to Puss Hunter's
Cooking Club: One cup of molasses; half a cup of butter; half a
cup of water; two cups of flour; two tea-spoonfuls of ginger; one
tea-spoonful of soda.
EMMA B.
* * * * *
I am thirteen years old, and I live in the Blue Ridge Mountains,
in Northeast Georgia. My home is in a lovely valley, called
Nacoochee. It was called after an Indian princess of that name.
I have two dogs--Cupid and Brave. Cupid is a rat-terrier, but he
likes to hunt rabbits better than rats. Brave is a white and
yellow spotted dog. He is also a good rabbit hunter.
I am making a collection of Indian relics and quartz. I would like
to exchange specimens with some of the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE.
JOHN R. GLEN,
Nacoochee, Georgia.
* * * * *
I have some little ponies. They are the prettiest little things
you ever saw. And I have a nice Maltese kitty, and a little bird
that sings like everything.
The town where I live was settled by the Hutchinson family of
singers. I am nine years old.
I would like to exchange pressed flowers with Genevieve, or any
other little girl in California.
MATTIE L. DAY,
Hutchinson, Minnesota.
* * * * *
Yesterday morning I went to the Soldiers' Home, in Dayton, to
spend the day. It is the largest and handsomest institution of its
kind in the United States. I went with a friend of mine, and we
had a splendid time. What we enjoyed most were the flowers. We
each bought a great number, and among others we got a quantity of
pansies, which are my favorite flowers. I would like to exchange
some pressed pansies for some of the floral beauties of
California. I have a great many varieties, and some are very rare.
RALPH M. FAY,
Xenia, Ohio.
* * * * *
If any boy living at the sea-side or in the South will exchange
birds' eggs with me, I will be very much obliged, and will, as
quick as I receive any, send eggs in return.
I would like all eggs sent to me to be plainly marked, that I may
know what kind they are.
FRED R. BENEDICT,
Norwalk. Huron County, Ohio.
* * * * *
If "Dot," of Washington, D. C., will send me her address, I would
like to write to her. I am an invalid myself, and can sympathize
with everybody that is sick in any way. I am eleven years old.
CLARA L. KELLOGG,
Fulton, Oswego County, New York.
* * * * *
NEW ALBANY, INDIANA.
I should like to tell the little girl named "Dot" all I know about
taming birds. I had two canaries, and they both died, but my
sister had one, and every day I would take it out of the cage and
pet it. It became so tame that it would eat out of my hand, and
when I let it out of its cage, it would fly upon the tops of the
picture-frames, and sometimes come and perch upon my shoulder.
When school began I did not have time to pet it any more, and it
became wild again.
N. L. V.
* * * * *
I am twelve years old. My mamma raises canary-birds. We are
raising some mocking-birds, and if any of the correspondents of
YOUNG PEOPLE could arrange to exchange a pair of pure Maltese
kittens for a singing mocking-bird, I would be very much pleased.
CORNELIA FITTS,
West Point, Clay County, Mississippi.
* * * * *
I am making a collection of birds' eggs and minerals, and would
like to exchange specimens with any one. I would like very much to
have some birds' eggs from the North. I send a list of eggs which
have all been found in the Georgia woods: jaybird, cat-bird,
sap-sucker, thrush (two kinds), redbird, bluebird, wren (different
kinds), mocking-bird, woodpecker, partridge, bee-martin, and
several kinds of sparrows. Any of these I would like to exchange
for other kinds.
I saw a letter in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 29 from Samuel P. Higgins, of
New Jersey, offering to exchange eggs. If he has any kinds not
mentioned in my list, I would be very glad to exchange with him.
ALICE I. PAINE,
Ingleside Farm, Cherokee County, Georgia.
* * * * *
E. I. RADFORD.--E. & F. N. Span, New York city, can supply you with
catalogues and books of all kinds relating to telegraphy.
* * * * *
WILLIE B. M.--The dates you require are given in "A Personation," on
page 392 of YOUNG PEOPLE No. 28.
* * * * *
CHARLES L. S.--Fort Dodge, the military post, is in Kansas. There is a
town in Iowa of the same name.
* * * * *
ELWYN A. S.--The shells of your doves' eggs are soft because the doves
probably eat nothing from which the shell can be formed. A piece of
cuttle-fish hung in the cage might answer the purpose; or, still better,
the shells of hens' eggs broken in pieces and scattered in the cage. The
doves also need plenty of clean gravel to scratch in.--Your first favor
was acknowledged in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 19.
* * * * *
MAUD H. B.--In an article on "The House-Sparrow" in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 14
you will find out what kind of food your "sparrow named Hopkins" will
like best.
* * * * *
PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.
No. 1.
DIAMOND.
In marble. To lay a wager. To yield blossoms. An animal. Reptiles. An
abbreviation. In ascend.
A. H. E.
* * * * *
No. 2.
WORD SQUARE.
First, to stuff. Second, a European city. Third, a boy's name. Fourth, a
net-work.
"THE TRIO."
* * * * *
No. 3.
CONUNDRUM.
What is it that goes to India, stops there, comes back, and yet never
went there?
* * * * *
No. 4.
DROP-LETTER PUZZLES.
1. A Carthaginian General: H--n--i--a--.
2. A proverb: A--t--t--h--n--i--e--a--e--n--n--.
3. A proverb: F--n--f--a--h--r--d--n--t--a--e--i--e--i--d--.
* * * * *
No. 5.
DOUBLE ENIGMA.
Our firsts in agate, not in stone.
Our seconds in brittle, not in bone.
Our thirds in pitcher, not in bowl.
Our fourths in wheel, but not in roll.
Our fifths in chance, but not in skill.
Our sixths in stream, but not in rill.
As classic city and classic land,
Our names united for ages stand.
C. P. T.
* * * * *
No. 6.
DOUBLE ACROSTIC.
A town on the Vistula River. A notion. To act idly. Smooth. A country in
the possession of the English. A Northern region. A part of the hair of
many animals. Answer--Primals form the first name and finals the second
name of a celebrated Scottish patriot.
"TOUT OU RIEN."
* * * * *
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN NO. 30.
No. 1.
H A N D L E S
C A R D S
M A T
G
B O G
S H O C K
R U N N E R S
No. 2.
Breslau.
No. 3.
G uardafu I
E veres T
N ev A
O rtega L
A lleghan Y
Genoa, Italy.
No. 4.
M A N Y
A L O E
N O R A
Y E A R
No. 5.
1. Harmony. 2. Conglomeration. 3. Consternation. 4. Manipulate. 5.
Broadway. 6. Mathematician.
No. 6.
Dante.
* * * * *
Favors are acknowledged from C. G., B. B., Bettie Melone, Effie M.
Richards, Nyman Coit Gates, M. J. R., Willie S. O., S. F. W., Joseph
Roseboom.
* * * * *
Correct answers to puzzles are received from George W. Raymond, Robbie
H. Osborn, Frank E. Hayward, John A. Wood, K. L. Huckaus, M. Brigham,
Willie M. Bloss, Norris W., Wroton M. Kenny, S. A. Hibbs, O. A. H.,
Laura McC., Joseph Van Doren, George H. Rech.
ADVERTISEMENTS.
HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE.
HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE will be issued every Tuesday, and may be had at
the following rates--_payable in advance, postage free_:
SINGLE COPIES $0.04
ONE SUBSCRIPTION, _one year_ 1.50
FIVE SUBSCRIPTIONS, _one year_ 7.00
Subscriptions may begin with any Number. When no time is specified, it
will be understood that the subscriber desires to commence with the
Number issued after the receipt of order.
Remittances should be made by POST-OFFICE MONEY ORDER or DRAFT, to avoid
risk of loss.
ADVERTISING.
The extent and character of the circulation of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE
will render it a first-class medium for advertising. A limited number of
approved advertisements will be inserted on two inside pages at 75 cents
per line.
Address
HARPER & BROTHERS,
Franklin Square, N. Y.
FISHING OUTFITS.
CATALOGUE FREE.
R. SIMPSON, 132 Nassau Street, N. Y.
The Child's Book of Nature.
* * * * *
The Child's Book of Nature, for the Use of Families and Schools:
intended to aid Mothers and Teachers in Training Children in the
Observation of Nature. In Three Parts. Part I. Plants. Part II. Animals.