soon lost sight of him. His name is _Corythornis cyanostigma_, and the
sight of another here in your hat carried me away so completely that for
the moment I almost fancied I was on the Nile again, the association was
so powerful."
"Well, papa, I am very glad of it. I will wear him only a day or two,
and then I will take him out and give him to you, and get mamma to put
something else in his place. You may be sure I shall never forget my
Nile-bird hat. But did you not say that there are kingfishers found in
other countries? I suppose they must be like this, even if they are not
so beautiful."
"Yes, there are; and I must tell you of one most remarkable species,
Millie--remarkable for his voice, though not for any beauty of color. We
will call him _Dacelo gigas_--gigas meaning very large, for he is a
great clumsy bird. He lives in Australia. The first night I ever spent
there 'in the bush'--which means out in the wild country--I was waked
just before daylight by a most outrageous racket in the thicket close to
me. I started up in some fright, and roused a man near me. 'Oh, go to
sleep; that is nothing but a jackass.' But as we were where a donkey
would not be likely to come, I could not tell what to make of it, and I
did not go to sleep, and by-and-by I heard him again and again, but my
comrades paid no attention to the sound, and so I said nothing further.
"After breakfast I took my gun, and started out to look for birds. Among
others I shot a great coarse-looking kingfisher, larger than a crow; and
when I returned to camp, the man whom I had roused in the morning
remarked, as I laid out my game: 'There, you have got him. That is the
very fellow that you heard this morning. We always call him the laughing
jackass.' And often after that I heard their harsh cry, like laughing
and braying together."
MAX RANDER'S WILD TIGER.
BY MATTHEW WHITE, JUN.
I didn't like that little French village. Thad and I were at our wits'
end to find some way to amuse ourselves. There wasn't any river to row
on, nor any hills to climb, and not a single person we could talk to out
of the family.
Then you sort of felt as if you were a lunatic in an asylum; for instead
of fences, every house had a high stone wall around it; that is, every
house except the one where we boarded, which was surrounded by an iron
railing, with the bars just far enough apart to make it look like a cage
in a menagerie. At least this is what Thad said it reminded him of, and
sometimes I used to see him tearing up and down behind it, playing he
was an African lion. I didn't tell him it was silly, because once in a
while I turned panther myself. It was an awfully poky town.
About three times every day Thad and I used to beg father to go
somewhere else, but he always said, "Have patience, boys." I wonder if
anybody ever counted the number of times fathers and mothers say, "Have
patience"? If it's as tiresome to say as it is to listen to, I feel
sorry for them.
Well, one morning when they both were out driving, and the landlady had
gone to market, and there was nobody at home but the French cook and us
boys, I was that sorry for Thad, not to mention how awfully dull I was
myself, that I felt I must do something. So I called Thad down-stairs,
and told him I'd invent a new play for him.
"We can use the fence just the same for a cage," I explained, "and
you're to be a tiger a keeper's trying to tame. I'll be the keeper, and
at first you must snap at me through the bars; but I'll look you
straight in the eye all the time (that's the way keepers do), and then
all of a sudden I'll open the door, rush into the cage, and you'll be
tamed."
Thad said that would be fun, and then I got father's cane, and we both
went out into the front yard. Hardly anybody ever walked on that street,
so I wasn't afraid of being interrupted.
I went outside, shutting the gate behind me, and Thad having curled
himself up close to the railing, pretending to be asleep, I began
operations by poking him with my stick.
At first he only gave a low growl (I wasn't sure whether tigers growled
or howled, but I told him a growl would do); but when the cane slipped
and tickled him under the arm, he jumped up, and neither growled nor
howled, but screamed, until I was obliged to remind him that he wasn't a
wild-cat.
"But tickling's no fair," he cried, still squirming a little.
"All right," I answered, beginning my taming operations, and keeping my
eye on him in a way that I think really began to frighten him.
Then he started racing up and down inside the fence, I after him on the
outside, until we were both quite out of breath, and then he stood
still, and snapped at me between the bars.
We were right by the gate, and while he had his head out, pretending to
gnaw my stick, I suddenly let go of it, and slipping through the
gateway, rushed up behind him before you could say "Jack Robinson."
"Now you must turn around, and we'll look at each other for a minute,
and then you'll give in," I cried, making believe crowd into a corner of
the cage.
"But I can't turn round," exclaimed Thad. "I can't get my head out."
"Why, how did you get it in, then?" I replied, stepping up to examine
into matters. "Twist it the other way."
Thad thereupon obediently gave a fresh tug, but all in vain; his head
remained stuck between the bars like a cow's in the patent stalls.
I was scared then, and never thinking about tigers, took him by the
neck, and tried my best to get him free; but I couldn't. Then he set up
a very unbeastlike yell, which brought the French cook out of the house,
with a bunch of garlic in her hand.
When she saw what had happened, she screamed louder than Thad. The noise
they both made together was something frightful, while I ran first one
side of the fence, then the other, wondering dismally if we'd have to
live in that town always because Thad couldn't get his head out.
If we'd had any neighbors except a deaf old man, a woman who never left
her bed, and two young men who went to work three miles away, I suppose
we'd soon have had a crowd around us, but as it was, nobody appeared but
a little girl with a hunk of bread, the sight of which caused Thad to
stop hollowing, and declare that we must bring him something to eat.
When I had opened and shut my mouth several times, pointing my finger
down it and then at Thad, the cook comprehended what was wanted, and
rushing outside of the fence, put that bunch of garlic right under my
brother's nose.
"Pah!" he exclaimed, and wrenched his head back so suddenly that I half
expected to see both his ears drop off.
"Oh dear," I groaned, "if he can't free himself with such a jerk as that
we can never get him out at all."
Then recollecting that Thad hated the smell of garlic as much as I did,
and seeing that the cook was still trying to feed him with it, I
motioned sternly toward the house, and ordered her to "departez," which
wasn't hard to say, as you just take an English word and put a little
French end to it.
She understood me at once, and seemed to feel quite insulted, for she
walked straight back to the kitchen, slamming the gate after her.
The next minute somebody slapped me on the shoulder, and turning, I
jumped as if I had seen a ghost, for it was Thad, and I was at least
five feet from the fence. You see, when the gate was open the space
between those two particular bars was a little smaller than when it was
shut. Thad and I might have remained in that pickle for any length of
time, he screaming at the top of his voice, and I dancing around him in
agony. Who knows how long it would have taken us to find out that all we
had to do was to shut the gate, if that woman hadn't got mad and given
it such an awful slam?
RUSTIC ADORNMENTS FOR LAWN AND GARDEN.
BY A. W. ROBERTS.
Small fingers always want to be kept busy. No matter how warm the
weather is, they can not lie comfortably quiet, but must be doing
something. Why not try a little rustic-work, setting up a good-natured
rivalry with florists and landscape gardeners? It will require the boys
and girls both--the boys to do the heavy work, and the girls to supply
the grace and minor ornamentation.
Rustic-work is a term that by general consent is now applied to all
structures of wood the forms and surfaces of which are left in their
natural shape, or covered with material such as bark, cones, fungi, etc.
[Illustration: FIG. 1.]
Fig. 1 is an excellent example of nature's rustic-work. How kindly the
golden-rod, blackberry, Virginia creeper, and ferns have ranged
themselves about the old stump to increase the picturesque beauty of its
decay!
Now imagine this stump transplanted to a lawn or garden with its wealth
of wild plants and shrubs, while in strong contrast to these are planted
in the hollow of the stump a variegated mass of drooping vines, and the
most beautifully marked and colored of the so-called "foliage" plants.
Truly no imported and expensive _jardinet_ (small garden) of highest
artistic workmanship was ever made that could compare with this of
nature's wild and cultivated beauty.
There are thousands and thousands of just such stumps that with a little
care and trouble might easily be converted into beautiful lawn and
garden adornments.
When digging out such a stump, the ground must be well excavated from
about and under the main roots, which are sawn (not chopped) off about
one foot below the surface of the ground. In replanting the stump, try
to imitate all the natural features of the ground surrounding it, even
to rocks and toad-stools. The latter are not poisonous unless eaten, and
are very picturesque.
The best soil for filling in the spaces about the roots and the bottom
of the stump is the black and rich "vegetable mould" found in all old
woods. Next to this comes peat, which can be obtained from dried-up
ponds and ditches, only care must be taken to crush it fine, and mix
with it about one-third of ordinary garden soil; otherwise it will be
apt to cake after rains.
When setting up a stump _jardinet_ it is the easiest thing in the world
to establish at the same time a small menagerie. Tree-toads, common
garden-toads, all varieties of land-snails, field-mice, chipmunks, can
be induced to make their homes in and about your stump if they are well
treated and cared for.
[Illustration: FIG. 2.]
To set up a successful stump menagerie, little nooks must be formed
under the roots by means of stones so placed together as to leave open
spaces of various sizes. These must connect with one another, as shown
in Fig. 2. When covered with earth, these chambers are entered by means
of runs which connect with the under-ground chambers. All creatures that
set up a home in these chambers will have a good time if you do not dig
them out every other day, "just to see, you know, how they are getting
along."
But now let us imagine that no such rotted-out and picturesque stump is
to be obtained. There is still quite an easy way to make a _jardinet_.
[Illustration: FIG. 3.]
First obtain from a grocer a half butter-keg, which will cost about
twenty cents. Wash it out thoroughly with hot water to cleanse it of all
salt, that might prove injurious to growing plants. In the bottom bore a
number of small holes, and place a layer of broken flower-pots or pieces
of charcoal two inches in depth. The holes are for the purpose of
draining off all surplus water. The layer of charcoal is to prevent the
soil at the bottom of the tub from being carried away through the
draining holes. If these precautions are not taken, the earth in the tub
will "sour," and the roots of the plants will rot. Next obtain a log of
wood of rough exterior, and also some rough bark. The tub must be
fastened to the top of the log, as shown in Fig. 3, and the latter
firmly planted in the desired spot. The bark must be nailed to the tub
so as to join and match the bark on the stump.
[Illustration: FIG. 4.]
On dead and decaying white-birch-trees many kinds of fungi are to be
obtained, and at the bases of very old trees many varieties of lichens.
These, when fastened to the _jardinet_ as shown in Fig. 4, produce a
very natural and picturesque effect. About the base of the _jardinet_
rude-shaped stones are piled up. The spaces of earth between the rocks
are dug out to the depth of from one-half to three-quarters of a foot.
These are technically known as "pockets," and are for the reception of
vegetable mould. The rookery is now in condition for planting with
cultivated and wild ferns, and also low-growing varieties of plants. The
tub is also filled with mould, and planted with "foliage" plants and
vines.
[Illustration: FIG. 5.]
Fig. 5 is a _jardinet_, vinery, and fernery combined. The upright post
is of red cedar or locust, with the bark on. A square piece of board two
inches in thickness is nailed on top of the post, and on this is placed
a half butter-tub, on which pointed slats half an inch thick and two
inches wide are nailed. These slats are painted green, and a light and
graceful trimming of rustic vinery is tacked on near the top and bottom
of the slat-work. Instead of slats, straight rustic branches split in
half and pointed at both ends can be used.
The branch-work consists of a circle of branches of drooping habit, the
ends or stocks of which are both nailed and bound with wire or stout
twine, so as to support the weight of vines when they reach it from the
tub above and the trellis below. The twine-work for the vines consists
of gray or green twine. There is a twine sold by florists by the name of
"invisible twine," which is of a light green color, and is used for
training vines; this is far superior to the white cotton cord generally
used, which always looks cheap and inartistic, and in course of time
frays out and breaks. But this cheap cord can be made very durable and
pleasing in color by running it through hot yellow bees-wax in which has
been mixed any of the cheap chrome greens.
A small wooden hoop is securely fastened to the bottom of the post close
to the ground by means of four wooden hooks; to this hoop the lower ends
of the twine are securely fastened; the upper ends are tied to the
branch-work, which helps to retain them in a drooping position. To
obtain the best results and light and graceful effects, always plant
Madeira or cypress vines; avoid the fancy gourds and other heavy
climbers, as they are apt to break down the twine-work during heavy
storms. At the base of the structure a heavy rockery is massed,
containing numerous pockets. In these, ferns and the English ivy and the
so-called German ivy are planted.
All rustic-work should present the appearance of solidity and
durability, and must be strongly put together. Never use in any way
marine forms or material in conjunction with rustic-work or rockery.
They are entirely out of keeping and harmony with nature, and indicate a
great want of taste. Nothing can exceed the ugliness of a bordering of
clam or oyster shells, or Florida conch shells; they are worse than
calcimined or white-washed rocks.
JAPANESE FAN TALES.
BY KIRK MUNROE.
[Illustration]
A bright little Jap is Tommi Taroo,
And he swings on a piece of round bamboo;
For round bamboo is the very best thing
That a boy can use as a seat for a swing.
He lives in the town of Hiogo--
A very nice place to live, you know,
Because it's such fun to go to Kobé,
The city of strangers, just over the way:
A city of Yankees and English too--
Comical fellows to Tommi Taroo--
French and Dutch and Portuguese,
And many another from over the seas.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
Fish-day, fish-day in Hizen;
Fish for the women, but not for the men;
Fish for the girls, but not for the boys.
To-day only women know fishermen's joys.
And all on account of Queen Jungu,
Who once caught a fish as fishermen do;
The fish said, "Go and conquer Corea,"
And this she did within a year.
And that is the reason the girls to-day
Are all out fishing, instead of at play;
And I think the fish they show to you
Is as fine as that of Queen Jungu.
* * * * *
[Illustration]
Lu-wen lived in Hakodadi;
Lu-wen was a little laddie.
Lu-wen's head was nicely shaved.
He was very well behaved.
Suzume was Lu-wen's mother;
Nakamura was his brother.
Very fine was Nakamura,
And his dress was silk of Surah.
His umbrella and his fan
Were the largest in Japan.
Once he gave them to Lu-wen,
But bade him bring them back again.
This Lu-wen was glad to do
When he'd gone a block or two;
For people left their tea and soy
To stare at him, and call out, "Halloo, big umbrella! where are you
going with that little boy?"
* * * * *
[Illustration]
Three little Satsumas and old Satsuma,
Or four Satsumas in all,
Laid aside their tasks, and put on their masks
For a grand Matsuri ball.
They howled and growled, and acted like
Wild animals born and bred.
To make an impression they formed a procession,
With old Satsuma ahead.
Just then the clown, of all the town
The funniest man to be found,
Jumped on to the back of the first of the pack,
And merrily rode him around.
Now, when he begun, they thought it was fun,
And acted as though they'd gone mad,
Until old Satsuma, in very bad humor,
Said, "Enough of this thing we have had."
* * * * *
[Illustration]
Eight little girls of Japan,
All running as fast as they can
For fear she'll be late,
Each one of the eight
Is running as fast as she can.
Did you ever see children so fat?
In Japan, though, they say, "What of that?"
To be fat is a duty;
It adds to your beauty.
And that is the reason they're fat.
[Illustration]
NOT QUITE SATISFIED.
This dear little Mabel,
She isn't quite able
To say what it is has gone wrong;
But she looks in the glass.
And the shadow-frowns pass
O'er a face that is sweet as a song.
She is thinking of Lizzie,
Whose hair is so frizzy.
She wishes her own could be cut;
But papa, only said
When she showed him her head,
"What, spoil it, my darling?--tut! tut!"
OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.
The other day, as the Postmistress was driving down a pretty rural road,
she came upon a farm-house which stood all alone. It was late in the
afternoon, and there was nobody stirring about the place; doors and
windows were closed; the dog was asleep beside his kennel; the gray cat,
with two kittens cuddling close to her, was taking a nap on the mat by
the front door; and it was as quiet as could be all around, until--peep!
peep! cluck! cluck!--there came suddenly in view the prettiest brood of
chicks in the world; thirteen of them, dears, and every one as white as
swan's-down. The little snowy puff-balls were taking an airing with
their sober cream-colored mamma, and the Postmistress will not soon
forget how cunning Mrs. Hen and her family looked. Pray, Daisy and
Mattie, Freddy and Guy, have you a dainty brood of chicks at your house?
And why haven't you sent the Postmistress word about them?
* * * * *
DANBY FOUR CORNERS, VERMONT.
I am a little boy nine years old, and will be ten the 9th of
August. I have a calf and a canary-bird and a little kitten. I go
to school almost every day. I have an auntie who sends me the money
to buy HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. I hope she will send money every
year. My grandma sends me a little pin-money every month. I have
over fifty dollars in the bank. I have no father, and my mamma is
poor. I can't think of any more to write this time.
ROBERT.
When you are a man, as you will be one of these days, you will be able
to work for your dear mamma. She is not very poor if she has a good and
loving son ten years old. I am glad to hear that you do not spend for
toys and candies all the money grandma sends you, but save some of it
for future use.
* * * * *
ROCKPORT, MASSACHUSETTS.
As I have never seen a letter in Our Post-office Box from Rockport,
I thought I would write one to tell you how much I enjoyed reading
"Toby Tyler," and how much I like "Mr. Stubbs's Brother." I have a
dear little baby sister nearly eight months old. Her name is
Mattie. We think she is the prettiest baby in the world. Mamma says
that every one thinks the same of their baby, so I suppose all are
satisfied. I am twelve years old, and go to the Grammar School. My
studies are arithmetic, reading, spelling, history, grammar, and
geography. I take music lessons twice a week. My sister and I are
much interested now in reading the works of C. C. Coffin. I like
_The Story of Liberty_, _Old Times in the Colonies_, _Boys of '76_,
and _Winning his Way_ the best.
ANNIE L. B.
You could not read better books, dear, than those you mention. _Boys of
'76_, in particular, should be in the library of every American child.
* * * * *
SULLIVAN, INDIANA.
I am a little girl ten years old. I have a Maltese cat; its name is
Mallie. I have three chickens. One of them is a bantie. My sister
Libbie gave it to me. Its name is Chickie, and the other two are
Dick and Topie. My papa gave me HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE for a
Christmas present. My sister Effie took it two years, and now I am
taking it. I wrote a letter once before, and it was not published.
Oh, I hope this one will not be put in a pigeon-hole! We have a
pea-fowl. We call him Sancho, because he speaks the word so
plainly, and mamma thinks he tries to be like Sancho Panza. I am
taking music-lessons, and learning to ride on horseback, and when
papa leaves the old gentle horse at home we go out riding. I have
two sisters and one brother. I signed the red-ribbon pledge. I
think Jimmy Brown's stories are very nice.
MAGGIE A. C.
* * * * *
CAHTO, CALIFORNIA.
A little girl, a subscriber of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, thinks all
the little girls should say something, to Mr. Harper to tell him
how pleased we are every week to receive our paper. I wish every
little girl could have as nice a time as I do, fishing for trout.
Away out here where we live is a creek that has fish in it. Brother
and I go fishing every Saturday, and I enjoy the sport very much.
Brother Ed cut down a tree which was one hundred and fifty feet
tall, and in the top of it was a rat's nest. We thought it strange
that a rat would go so high to build its nest. I brought the little
rats home, but they died.
SOPHIA R. (aged seven.)
That was a very ambitious rat, little Sophie. It was just as well the
rat babies did not live; they would have been very troublesome pets. Do
you ever forget to come home to dinner when you are waiting for the
trout to bite? That is what a little friend of mine does sometimes.
* * * * *
MONTCLAIR, NEW JERSEY.
I want to tell you about my pets. In the first place, we have two
canaries; mine is Dick, and Dandy belongs to my brother Willie.
Dicky was bought for me, but Dandy came to us. One Sunday morning
papa was reading, and Dicky hung on the piazza. We suddenly heard
_two_ canaries singing, and looking to see what was the matter, we
saw a strange bird eating Dick's seed. He was willing to be caught,
and papa gave him to Willie. Dick and he sing together a great deal
now. Dick was once carried down into the cellar in the mouth of
Henry, our cat, who laid him on the coal-bin, and was just
preparing to eat him when the girl came down and took him
up-stairs. We did have a mocking-bird too--his name was Jack--but
he died. A horrid cat came in one dark night and frightened poor
Jackie to death. Another pet is a dog, whom we call Chaucer. He is
five years of age, and we have had him since he was two weeks old.
EFFIE E. H.
What a good thing the birdie was rescued in time from the clutch of
Madame Puss, who can not help being a hunter, as it is her nature.
* * * * *
PENSACOLA, FLORIDA.
I am a little boy nine years old. I like to read about Mr. Stubbs's
Brother, and I watch every week for YOUNG PEOPLE to come. I have
two dear sisters. Mary, aged five, who is in Jacksonville with our
grandma, and Ethel, who is the sweetest and the prettiest baby in
the State. My papa is the principal of the High School here. I am
going to take lessons on the piano from my mamma this summer. It is
nice to walk down to our lovely bay, and see it full of ships from
all countries.
ALFRED MCC. W.
* * * * *
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA.