CHAPTER VIII.

THE COW AND CALF.

"The Old Cow" and "The Calf" are two enormous ledges lying not far asunder,

within sight from the coast in clear weather. "The Cow" is never completely

submerged; her bare brown back appears above the highest tides.

"The Calf" is not so fortunate; the sea must be very calm at high water,

when it is not buried in the surf.

Near one end of it, to mark the position of the dangerous reef, a pole is

anchored, rising out of the water with a slant that has gained for it the

name of "The Calf's Tail." Often at high tide the tail only can be seen

sticking out of the sea.

What Olly saw and heard was the billows combing over the end of one of

those huge rocks. He wondered why he hadn't thought of them before; for it

now occurred to him that if he could land on "The Old Cow," he might safely

pass the night on her back, and be seen from the shore, or from some

passing craft, in the morning.

But which of the ledges was he approaching? Familiar as their forms were to

him, seen from the shore, he could not in his strange position, in the

night, and amid the dashing waves, decide whether he was coming upon "The

Old Cow" or "The Calf."

Trembling with fresh hope and fear, and paddling cautiously, he strained

his eyes in the darkness, to get the broad outline of the ledge against the

faint sky-line. There was something awful in the sound of the surf on those

desolate rocks. The surges leapt and fell, rushing along the reef and

pouring in dimly-seen cataracts over the ledges, their loud buffets

followed by mysterious gurglings and murmurings, which might well appall

the heart of a wave-tossed boy.

The wind was blowing him on; but it was still in his power to pass the end

of the rock, or drive his dory upon the windward side, where the ocean

swells broke with least force. If he could only be sure which rock it was!

But he could distinguish nothing. All was as strange to him as if he had

been adrift on the lonesomest unknown sea in the world.

If it was "The Calf," then "The Tail" should be at the other end, and "The

Old Cow" beyond. If "The Cow," "The Calf" must be in the other direction,

and a little farther seaward; he might pass between the two.

He was getting used to his clumsy paddle; with it he kept his dory off as

well as he could, but in a state of terrible anxiety, thinking his life

might depend on what he should decide to do the next minute. He was still

hesitating, when accident decided for him.

The skiff was headed to the wind, against which he continued to paddle,

when suddenly a billow shot over a sunken projection of the ledge, smiting

the end of the boat with a force that slung it half about in an instant.

Olly felt a small deluge of water dash over and drench him from behind. He

was past thinking of his new clothes now; he thought of the dory. Even then

it might have escaped capsizing if it had not met at the same instant a

cross-wave, which tumbled aboard from the other side.

The two filled it so nearly that the water rushed cold across his knees;

and he knew that nothing he could do would prevent the boat from sinking.

Indeed, as the very next wave swept in, it settled on one side, and then

slowly rolled over. To save himself, Olly sprang up, grasping first the

uppermost rail, then clinging to the bottom of the overturned skiff, until

another billow swept him off.

He was an accomplished swimmer, as I think I have said before; and now that

skill stood him in good stead. In the first moment of his immersion he lost

his bearings; but rising with a wave, he looked about him from its crest,

and saw the little island not a hundred feet away.

He made for it at once, directing his course to a spot which the

overleaping surge did not reach.

The waves were dashing all about the rock, to be sure; and to land safely

upon it at any point would require not only vigilance, but good fortune.

I hardly know whether he was much frightened or not; he himself couldn't

have told. He didn't stop for a moment to reason about the situation, but

obeying the mere instinct of self-preservation, he swam to the ledge.

He was lucky enough to find a spot where it sloped gently into the sea. He

swam in on a wave, and as it subsided, he clung to the rock.

The broken surface of the rock was covered with barnacles, which cut his

hands; but he held on. They also scratched his knees through his torn

clothing, as he climbed up to the smoother rocks above.

The slant to the water was such that he could not, in the darkness, judge

of his elevation above the sea-level; nor could he determine, from that,

whether he had been thrown upon "The Old Cow" or "The Calf."

Yet everything depended upon the answer to that question. If on the greater

rock, he was comparatively safe; if on the smaller, his respite would be

brief--he might expect the next tide to carry him off.

Groping about on the jagged summit, trying to identify the rock by its

form, his foot plashed in a pool of water. He paused, startled by the

thought that here was a means of deciding his fate.

No doubt, much sea-spray dashed upon the back even of "The Old Cow," in

rough weather. But copious rains had succeeded the last gale; and so, if

that little pool was on the large rock, the water it held could not be very

salt. If on the back of "The Calf," it was the leavings of the last tide.

He felt that his doom was in the taste of that water.

He hesitated, heaving a sigh of dread; then he stooped quickly and put his

hand into the pool. He lifted the wet fingers to his lips, and immediately

grew faint--the water was bitterly salt.

Still, after a little reflection, he would not give up all hope. The sea

must have broken clear over "The Cow's" back, in the last storm; and the

rain might have had little effect in freshening the contents of the basin.

He thought of another test.

Barnacles live in the sea, or in receptacles of sea-water replenished at

every tide. If he was upon the back of "The Old Cow," the pool would be

free from them; if on "The Calf," there would be the usual incrustations

about its edges.

Once more he put down his groping hand; and then he uttered a despairing

wail.

The barnacles were there!

(_To be continued_.)

[Illustration: A BELATED FAIRY.]

AUNT DEBORAH'S LESSON.

BY G. H. BASKETTE.

[Illustration]

"The good lands! What's that!" excitedly cried frightened Aunt Deborah.

Aunt Deborah might well exclaim in surprise. For as she sat knitting

quietly and humming a quaint old tune of long ago, one she had learned as

a child----C-r-rash! bang! came a stone into the room, shivering the

window-pane, just missing the swinging lamp in the hallway, making an ugly

scar on the cabinet, and breaking into fragments a handsome vase. Then, as

if satisfied with the mischief it had done, it rolled lazily across the

floor, and finally stopped under the table, an inert, jagged bit of

granite.

Aunt Deborah, as the stone pursued its reckless course, placed her hands

over her head, and shrank back into her chair, a frightened and unwilling

witness to the destruction of her property. It was quite distressing.

Besides the nervous shock, there was the broken window; there was the

cabinet showing a great white dent that could not easily be removed; and

there, too, was the vase she had kept so many long years, lying shattered

and ruined before her eyes.

Aunt Deborah was one of the best and most kind-hearted of women; but--she

was human, and the sudden havoc wrought by the missile exasperated as well

as frightened her. She rushed to the window and opened it in time to see

three or four boys scampering down the street as fast as their legs could

carry them.

"Oh, you young scapegraces!" she cried. "If I could once lay hold on you,

wouldn't I teach you a lesson!"

But the boys never stopped until they had disappeared around a friendly

corner. Aunt Deborah was so overcome by the accident, and so intent upon

watching the retreating boys to whom she desired to teach a lesson, that

she did not at first notice a barefooted lad standing under the window on

the pavement below, holding a battered old hat in his hand, and looking up

at her with a scared face and tearful eyes.

"Please, Miss," said the boy tremulously.

"Oh! Who are you? Who threw that stone at my window?" called out Aunt

Deborah, as she spied him.

"Please, Miss," pleaded the boy, fumbling nervously his torn hat, "I threw

it, but I didn't mean to do it."

"Didn't mean to do it, eh?" replied Aunt Deborah, fiercely. "I suppose the

stone picked itself up and pitched itself through my glass!"

"I was going to throw it down the street, but Bill Philper touched my arm,

and it turned and hit your window," he explained.

There was an air of frankness and truth about the boy, and the fact that he

had not run away like the others (whom, somehow, Aunt Deborah held chiefly

responsible for the outrage), caused her to relent a little toward him.

"Come in here," she said, after eying him closely for a moment.

The lad hesitated; but summoning all his courage, he went up the steps, and

soon stood in her presence.

"Do you see that" she said, pointing at the window--"and that"--(at the

cabinet)--"and that?"--(at the broken vase)--"and that?"--(at the stone.)

"Now, isn't that a fine performance?"

"I am very sorry," said the boy, the tears welling into his eyes again.

He looked ruefully about at the damaged articles, and glanced at the stone,

wishing heartily that he had never seen it.

"Now, what's to be done about it?" asked she.

"I don't know, ma'am," said he, very ill at ease. "I will try to pay you

for it."

"What can you pay, I should like to know?" she said, glancing at his

patched coat and trousers and his torn hat.

"I sell papers," said he; "and I can pay you a little on it every week."

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Sam Wadley," answered the boy.

"Have you a father?"

"No, ma'am," replied Sam; "he's dead."

"Have you a mother?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What does she do?" continued Aunt Deborah.

"She sews, and I help her all I can, selling papers."

"How can you pay me anything then?"

[Illustration: "THERE SAT AUNT DEBORAH EARNESTLY KNITTING." [SEE NEXT

PAGE.]]

"Please, ma'am, I'll tell Mother all about it, and she'll be willing for me

to pay you all I make."

"Well, now, we'll see if you are a boy to keep his word," said Aunt

Deborah.

"How much must I pay?" Sam inquired anxiously.

"Let me see." Aunt Deborah put on her spectacles and made a critical survey

of the room. "Window--fifty cents; vase--one dollar--I wouldn't have had it

broken for five!--That'll do--one dollar and a half. I shan't charge you

for the dent in the furniture."

"I'll try to pay you something on it every week," said Sam. "There are some

days when I don't make anything; but when I do, I'll save it for you."

"Very well," said Aunt Deborah; "you may go now."

He thanked her, and went slowly out, while Aunt Deborah began to pick up

the fragments strewn over the floor.

"Oh, wait a moment!" she cried.

Sam came back.

"Take this stone out with you, and be careful what you do with it, next

time," she said. "By the way, if you wish to keep out of trouble, you'd

better not keep company with that Flipper boy--" Aunt Deborah had a rather

poor memory for names--"if I had him, wouldn't I give him a lesson!"

She uttered the last sentence with such a relish, that Sam was glad enough

to get away. He was afraid she might conclude to bestow upon him the

salutary lesson which she had proposed to give "Flipper," as she called

him.

Sam hurried home as fast as he could. His mother, a pale, delicate woman

whose wan features and sunken eyes showed the effects of too hard work,

heard his simple tale, wiped away his tears and encouraged him in his

resolve to pay for the damage he had done.

From that day, Sam began to be very diligent, and to earn pennies in every

honest way possible to him. And every week he carried some small amount to

Aunt Deborah.

"That boy has some good in him," she said when he had brought his first

installment. And though she grew more kind toward him every time he came,

occasionally giving him a glass of milk, a sandwich or a cake, she rarely

failed to warn him against the influence of that "Flipper" boy.

His young companions laughed at him for paying his money to Aunt Deborah,

and called him a coward for not running away when they ran; but all they

said did not turn him from his purpose.

One evening he went with a cheerful heart to pay his last installment.

As he passed the window of the sitting-room he glanced in. There sat Aunt

Deborah, earnestly knitting. The lamplight fell upon her sober face and Sam

wondered if she ever looked really smiling and pleasant. "It doesn't seem

as though she would be so stiff with a fellow," he said to himself. Then,

in response to her "Come in," he entered the room and handed her his money.

"I believe that is all, ma'am," said he.

"Yes, that pays the whole sum," said Aunt Deborah; "you have done well."

"I am still very sorry I have troubled you, and I hope you forgive me," he

said.

"I do, with all my heart," said she earnestly.

"Thank you," said Sam, as he started out, picking his old hat from the

floor, where he had placed it; on entering.

"Come back," said Aunt Deborah, "I've something more to say to you."

With a startled look he turned into the room.

Aunt Deborah went to the cabinet and unlocked it. She first took out a pair

of new shoes, then half a dozen pairs of socks, some underclothing, two

nice shirts, a neat woolen suit, and lastly a good felt hat.

"Sam," said she to the astonished lad, "I have taken your money, not

because I wanted it, but because I wished to test you. I wished to see

whether you really meant to pay me. That Flipper boy would never have done

it, I am sure. You have done so well in bringing me your little savings

that I have learned to like you very much. Now I wish to make you a present

of these articles. In the pocket of this jacket you will find the money you

have paid me. I wouldn't take a cent of it. It is yours. You must keep

working and adding to it, so that you can soon help your mother more. Go to

work now with a light heart, and grow up a true and an honest man. Tell

your mother that I say she has a fine son."

In making this speech, Aunt Deborah's features relaxed into a pleasant

smile; and Sam smiled too, and was so pleased that he could hardly utter

his thanks.

"And mind you," continued she, suddenly changing the current of his

thoughts, "don't associate with that Flipper boy!"

"Please, ma'am," said Sam, feeling a twinge of conscience that his former

companion should bear so much of the blame, "you have been very kind to me,

but Bill Philper didn't know the stone would turn as it did, and break your

window."

"Then why did he run away?" inquired Aunt Deborah somewhat fiercely. "It's

quite proper that you should try to excuse him, Sam; but I should like to

teach him a good lesson?"

"You--you--have taught me a good lesson," said Sam, with a blushing face,

"and I--I--thank you very much for it."

Aunt Deborah smiled benignly again, and warmly bidding Sam to come often to

see her, she let him out at the door.

She felt very happy as Sam disappeared down the street, and he was very

happy, as he hurried home with his great bundle, and told his mother all

about it, which made that good woman very happy, too. So they were very

happy all around.

And it all came about because Sam had stood up like a brave boy to confess

his wrong, which is always manly; and had offered reparation for it, which

is always right; and had gone forward, in spite of the taunts of his

companions, denying himself pleasures and comforts in order to do that

which he knew to be right, which is always heroic.

697

Of Timothy Timid and his happy thought: these lines and pictures by A.

Brennan.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

Timothy Timid, they say,

Once traveled the loneliest way;

For he traveled by night

Lest he should take fright

At things he could see in the day.

READY FOR BUSINESS; OR, CHOOSING AN OCCUPATION.[B]

A SERIES OF PRACTICAL PAPERS FOR BOYS.

BY GEORGE J. MANSON

[Footnote B: Copyright by G. J. Manson, 1884]

BOAT-BUILDING

[Illustration]

Boat-building is by no means one of the "lost arts," although in this age

of steam and iron, the "good old days" of the ship-builders are a thing of

the past. Of late years, however, there has been a marked increase in the

trade, and although the work is confined principally to yachts and smaller

craft, the steady growth of this branch of boat-building offers excellent

inducements to any young man whose tastes lie in that direction.

I know of one boy at least, now sixteen years of age, who intends to fit

himself during the next five or six years for the occupation; and his

father, a prominent and highly successful naval architect, believes that

there is a very promising future for American boat-building.

I take it for granted that the future boat-builder has, as a boy, been fond

of boats. He has not only taken advantage of the rivers and ponds near his

house, has navigated them in scow, in row-boat or in sail-boat, but I will

suppose that, from the time he has been the owner of a jack-knife, he has

been a constructor of toy boats. And, as he has grown older and become the

possessor of a tool-chest, or, at least, of a gauge, a mallet, a saw, a

plane, and a good knife, he has wrought out miniature cutters and

schooners, possibly a square-rigged ship, all of which have been much

admired by his young companions. If it has been his object in life to

become a boat-builder, he could not have been better employed during the

hours that have not been taken up with school duties.

In every business and profession there is some one object above all others

sought after, upon which success may be said to depend. The orator

endeavors to arouse our enthusiasm, the poet appeals to our sentiments, the

lawyer to our reason, the clergyman to our conscience. The genius of the

boat-builder lies in the one word "form." The one thing more than all

others for which he aims to have a reputation is the ability to give a good

shape to the mass of wood or iron coming from his hands, whether it be a

man-of-war or a sail-boat. And so it was good for the boy that he made

boats and models of boats. He was getting, as the naval architect would

say, "form impressed upon his brain." It may have been, it probably was, a

bad form, an incorrect form, but it was something from which to start. At

all events, the boy has formed a speaking acquaintance with the occupation

he is about to enter.

I shall assume that at the age of sixteen he has finished his school

studies, has a good knowledge of arithmetic and algebra, and has gone

through seven books in Euclid, with special reference to being proficient

in the fourth and seventh books. Two years before this, we will suppose, he

has expressed a desire to be a boat-builder. He has made a model of some

kind of a boat, and he has, as occasions have permitted, visited such

ship-yards as could be found in his vicinity, and carefully watched the men

while they were at work. At last, at the age of sixteen, he enters the

office of a thoroughly competent naval architect, who either is or has been

a practical ship-builder. The naval architect stands in the same relation

to ship-building that the architect of houses does to house-building, with

this difference,--not only does he make the plan, but very often he

executes it as well.

The beginner will find his quarters very pleasant. The room will be light,

cheerful, and quiet. On the walls he will probably see pictures of famous

yachts or other vessels; there will be a small library of technical books

of reference, which he will have occasion to consult later on; there may be

another student with whom he will chat now and then during the day; or his

teacher, while they are at work, may give him some stirring bits of

yachting reminiscence. I only mention this to show that there is none of

that strict discipline to which the boy has been accustomed at school. The

fact is, it is not needed, for, to use the language of a well-known

ship-builder, "it is a fascinating occupation; it grows upon you; and the

longer you are in it, the better you like it, that is, of course, if you

like boats and everything pertaining to them."

The boy will at first be given the drawing of a midship, or central,

section of a boat, and required to put a body to it, to give it a bow, a

stern--in short, to give to the boat its form. After working in that way

for a while, he will make more extended plans, until he is able to make the

full design of a vessel. He will remain with this naval architect for the

space of a year; and, by that time, he should have acquired a very good

knowledge of form.

It is a fact that boys in England who choose this occupation for their

life-work can more easily obtain a thorough education in it than can be had

by youths in our country. In England, and in France, Denmark, and other

European countries, there are schools where special technical instruction

is given, and many of these are close to large ship-yards, where the

practical work of ship-building can constantly be seen. The question now

arises, therefore, shall the boy go to England and get the benefit of this

instruction? It is by no means necessary that he should go there; but if he

has begun to learn while young, he can spare the time, and his parents know

whether they can spare the money which such a journey and residence would

entail. If he decides to go, he will remain away for three or four years.

Suppose, however, it is decided that he can not go abroad. It has cost him

for the year's instruction he has received from the naval architect, with

whom he had been studying, about $1000; or, he has given his services as a

draughtsman, paid $500, and during the twelve months has "picked up" such

knowledge as he could without receiving any regular instruction. His case

of drawing-instruments has cost him from $50 to $250, depending on the

number of instruments, the manner in which they are finished and the style

of the case in which they are kept. Let us assume that he has been a

full-pay pupil. His time is, of course, his own. It would be a good plan,

after he has acquired some theoretical knowledge of the business, to

regularly visit a shipyard and there begin to do the practical work which

falls to the lot of the boat-builder; studying in the office one-half the

time and working in the yard the other half. Now you will see, as I

observed before, that boat-building is a profession and a trade. It is

possible to be simply a naval architect and only make designs for boats,

but it is not advisable; it is better, by all means, to have the practical

knowledge which is obtained working among the men in the shipyard.

They do not now apprentice boys as they did some fifty years ago. I have

before me an indenture paper of a ship-builder (now alive) dated in the

year 1825. In it he promises "not to waste his master's goods; not to

contract matrimony within the said term; not to play at cards, dice, or any

unlawful game, nor frequent ale-houses, dance-houses, or play-houses, but

in all things behave himself as a faithful apprentice ought to do during

the said term." There are no such rules laid down nowadays. Perhaps all the

boys are so good that none are needed. All that needs to be done now is for

the boy to make his verbal agreement with the owner of the shipyard, and go

to work.

And now a word or two as to this practical work which will cover the second

method of learning boat-building as mentioned at the beginning of my paper.

The boy who has not had the benefit of any previous training with an

instructor may have to commence with turning the grindstone. The tools used

in boat-building are in such constant use that they grow dull very soon,

and the grindstone is kept going almost the whole of the day. Besides, the

work being very heavy, the men generally work in couples, so that the

learner when he is not turning the grindstone is assisting in lifting the

heavy timbers that have to be used. The first tool he is generally

permitted to use is the saw; then he begins to use the adze; then he is

trusted with the ax, and helps get out the planking and timber for the

frame of the ship.

Then comes the difficult part of construction. The apprentice must have

learned all this work with the tools (of which I am only able to make a

passing mention), before he comes to the constructive part; that is, the

part that our pupil has been studying with the naval architect.

Before the building of the ship is commenced, a small wooden model is made,

to give the owner and the builder an idea of what she is going to look

like.

"A little model the master wrought,

Which should be to the larger plan

What the child is to the man."

Doubtless, you have seen such models. They are built sometimes on a scale

of a quarter of an inch to a foot; they are made of pieces of cedar and

pine wood, placed alternately, and show the shape and whole arrangement of

one side of the vessel. This model is glued, on its flat side, to a piece

of board, for greater convenience in examination.

From this model, "life-size" plans of the ship are made with chalk on the

floor of a long, wide room, like a big garret, which is used especially for

this purpose. It will not be necessary to enter into a technical

description of these plans. There are three of them,--the sheer plan, the

half-breadth plan, and the body plan. They show the position of the

different planks to be used in the construction of the ship. To gain a

rough idea of these plans, take a cucumber, decide which you will call the

bottom and which the top, and cut it in the middle, lengthwise, from end to

end. Look into its interior and fancy that it is covered with lines, both

horizontal and vertical--and that will give you a very rough idea of the

sheer plan. By laying the cucumber on its side and cutting it lengthwise,

you will have a notion of the half-breadth plan. A division in the middle

(cutting it in two parts, so that you can see the whole circumference) may

suggest to you the body plan. This can not be made very clear, not even

with drawings, because it is the most technical part of the work; but its

object is apparent. From these three plans, taken from different points of

view, the boat-builder can locate the position of every piece of plank in

his vessel. So true is this that I understand it is possible to number the

planks of a ship, and send them off to some distant country, where a

ship-builder can construct the vessel without ever having seen the design.

A great deal of calculation and figuring enters into this part of the work,

but much of it has been made easy by the aid of a man (now dead, I believe)

named Simpson, the author of what are called "Simpson's Rules." These rules

are incorporated in small pocket handbooks which contain, in addition, a

large number of tables, rules, and formulas pertaining to naval

architecture. The most popular handbook of this character in England is

said to be "Mackrow's Naval Architect and Ship-builders' Assistant," and in

our country, "Haswell's Engineers' Pocket-book of Tables." These, however,

are only aids in making calculations, and are very much like the interest

tables you have probably seen, which save the trouble of going through the

figuring in detail. There are a great many books which will be interesting

and valuable to the young ship-builder. To give you some idea of their

character, I copy the following from the table of contents of a recent

standard work: "The displacement and buoyancy of ships;" "The oscillations

of ships in still water;" "The oscillation of ships among waves;" "Methods

of observing the rolling and pitching motions of ships;" "The structural

strength of ships," etc.

These titles may not at present indicate a very promising literary feast,

but when the young boat-builder has mastered the rudiments of the technical

part of the profession, he will read and reread such productions with as

much pleasure as he now peruses the stories in ST. NICHOLAS.

I have not entered into the details of iron ship-building, the practical

part of which the boy will learn in the same yard in which he learns to

work in wood; for it is presumed that he is going to some large yard to

obtain his instruction. Indeed, in this occupation it is the practical part

that is the easiest and the most interesting to young learners. They are

apt to slight the theoretical knowledge required and to long to spend their

time in the shipyard with real tools, doing real work, for a real ship.

With the boy who, through force of circumstances, has to enter on the life

of a journeyman and earn wages, there is more excuse for hastening to that

branch of the work than for the lad who is better situated in life. The

journeyman will learn construction last and from his master. Under the plan

I have suggested, the other lad will learn the general principles of

construction before he goes to the shipyard; at least he will not have to

commence with turning the grindstone. His first few visits will be confined

to watching the men at their work; then he will gradually make himself

familiar with the use of the different tools.

The journeyman will receive at first $1 a day; during the second year,

$1.50 a day, and be gradually advanced until he receives the regular wages,

at the present time from $3 to $3.25 a day. It would not be advisable to

make any estimate of the profits of boat-building as a business, for, no

matter what they are now, by the time my young reader has started a

shipyard, they may be entirely different, owing to the increase or decrease

in the cost of material and labor.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: "THIS LITTLE PIG WENT TO MARKET."]

WHAT IT WAS.

BY MALCOLM DOUGLAS

Oh, they were as happy as happy could be,

Those two little boys who were down by the sea,

As each with a shovel grasped tight in his hand,

Like a sturdy young laborer dug in the sand!

And it finally happened, while looking around,

That, beside a big shell, a small star-fish they found,--

Such a wonderful sight, that two pairs of blue eyes

Grew large for a moment with puzzled surprise.

Then--"I know," said one, with his face growing bright,

"It's the dear little star that we've watched every night;

But last night, when we looked, it was nowhere on high,

So, of course, it has dropped from its home in the sky!"

[Illustration]

CAPTAIN JACK'S FOURTH-OF-JULY KITE.

BY DANIEL C. BEARD.

"Well, if that isn't the queerest sight!" exclaimed a passenger on the cars

going from Flushing to New York, last Independence Day.

And all the passengers on that train, and on all other trains during the

day, echoed the same words. It was a very strange occurrence.

Away up in the blue sky, and all alone, like a new declaration of

independence, fluttered that soul-stirring piece of bunting, the stars and

stripes. Not a sign of pole or support of any kind could the sharpest eye

discern; and yet, as steadily as if fixed on the dome of the national

capitol, it waved its gay stripes in the joyous breeze. It was a very

mysterious flag.

[Illustration]

There was, however, one individual who was both able and willing to clear

away the mystery--a certain jovial man who, on the morning of that

particular day, sat in exceedingly airy attire on the front porch of the

boathouse of the Nereus Boat Club. As his striped shirt, knee-breeches,

and skull-cap indicated, Captain Jack Walker was an oarsman.

[Illustration]

He afterward explained to his faithful crew that he had gone to the

boathouse early that morning, and while there had been struck with a novel

idea. The result of that idea was the mysterious flag which was waving over

the salt marsh by Flushing Bay, and was puzzling the brains of many good

citizens.

Fastened to the top of the flagpole of the club's boathouse was the end of

a piece of hempen twine. By following that piece of twine, which ran away

into space at an angle of sixty degrees, the eye came at length to the

floating flag. By looking closely, moreover, one could gradually discern

that from the flag the twine ran up five or six hundred feet higher to a

tiny kite--tiny, as seen away up there in the blue ether; but, in fact, a

monster kite.

Captain Jack had first sent up that great kite which some one had left at

the boathouse, and had let it out five or six hundred feet; then he took a

flag about five feet long, which belonged to one of the boats, and fastened

the upper end of its stick firmly to the kitestring. He next broke the

lower end of the flagstick so as to leave a short projection (_a_), just

long enough for him to fasten a piece of twine to it.

Then he again let the kite out, and also the string he had attached to the

lower end of the flagstick. As soon as the flagstick was vertical, the line

_a_, _b_ (see preceding page) was knotted securely to the kitestring at

_b_. All that was necessary then was to let out about five hundred feet

more twine, and Captain Jack's Fourth-of-July kite was soon gayly flying.

There was to be a regatta that afternoon, however, and the gallant oarsman

could not sit idly holding a kitestring in his hand. So he hauled down the

boat club's flag, tied the kitestring to the flag-halyards and then hoisted

both flag and kitestring to the top of the flagpole; and so his

Fourth-of-July banner floated serenely in the sky all day long,--a

beautiful sight, and an object of much surprise and wonder to all who saw

it.

IF.

[Illustration]

If I had a big kite,

With a very short tail,

And a very stout cord,--

And there came a great gale,--

I'd hold fast to the string,

And away we would fly,

I and my kite,

Up, up to the sky!

[Illustration: The biggest of birds without any wings. The oldest of

kingdoms without any kings. GEO. R. HALM.]

Tippie and Jimmie:

[Illustration]

TIPPIE AND JIMMIE.

BY MARY L. FRENCH

Tippie and Jimmie had come over to play with Ajax. Tip's whole name is

Tippecanoe. The boys call him a black and tan, but Bessie calls him a

darling. He has a little black shining nose that he is always sticking into

everything, and a little smooth, tapering tail that he is always wagging.

Jimmie's name is James Stuart; he is a little Maltese kitten, with gentle

blue eyes, and soft fur that is always ready to be smoothed, and claws that

are never used where they can hurt, and a purr that is always wound up.

Tippie and Jimmie live together, and eat together, and are the best of

friends.

Ajax is the kitten that lives next door. He is jet black, excepting a

little white spot where his cravat should have been tied. And he has a long

black tail that often waves over his back like a banner. He has large green

eyes that snap and shine when he plays, and he has just begun to look for

mice.

One day Tippie and Jimmie came around to the kitchen door of the house

where Ajax lived, and looked in.

They could not see Ajax, so Jimmie began to climb up the screen door,

sticking his claws into the holes. He had not climbed far before the lady

of the house saw him, and she said:

"Here's Jimmie looking for Ajax. Come, Ajax, where are you?"

Ajax was asleep on the lounge, but he jumped up and came running to the

door, for he comes when he is called, "quicker than any of the other

children," Mamie says.

He touched noses with Jimmie, and then he took his visitors around to the

front porch. There, he and Jimmie leaped upon a chair and shook their paws

at Tippie, who was on the floor. Then Tippie got upon another chair, and

Ajax ran under it and reached up to play with him.

It really seemed as if they knew how pretty they looked. After a while,

they all three had a good race up and down, over chairs, under chairs, and

through chairs. Sometimes Ajax stood on the back of a chair and poked his

paw at Tippie, and sometimes he ran to the top of a high rocking-chair and

jumped down to the porch railing. Jimmie was not so venturesome, however.

Soon they grew tired of such play, and then they rushed out-of-doors, and

down upon the grass. There, Tippie began to tease Jimmie. He pushed him

over, and stepped upon him, and nosed him, and even bit him gently, till

Jimmie suddenly cried out, "Meow-ow-ow!"

Ajax had been quietly looking on, with a shade of contempt on his handsome

countenance; but when he heard that appeal, he rushed at Tippie and pushed

him away from Jimmie and scratched him, and chased him from one end of the

yard to the other, two or three times.

When they stopped to rest after their run, Ajax settled himself comfortably

on the grass, perfectly quiet, except for the tip of his tail, which moved

just a little. Tippie watched that tail with longing. He danced around and

around Ajax. He pranced forward and skipped back, and practiced all his

dancing-steps, before he dared touch it. At last he boldly rushed upon it,

and a moment later Ajax held him fast around the neck, and with heads close

together, and smothered growls of happiness, the cat and the dog were

rolling over and over. Then, they suddenly let go, and stood half a foot

apart, glaring at each other for a second, before they rushed together

again, and went through the whole frolic once more.

Mamie and Herbert had seen it all while building ships, in the side yard,

and as they watched the grand closing scene, Herbert, in the tone of an

oracle, announced,

The Moral:

"It is good to be good-natured, but bad to be imposed upon."

NUMBER ONE.

BY CHARLES R. TALBOT.

"I tell you," said Robbie, eating his peach,

And giving his sister none,

"I believe in the good old saying that each

Should look out for Number One."

"Why, yes," answered Katie, wise little elf,

"But the counting should be begun

With the _other one_ instead of yourself,--

And _he_ should be Number One."

VOL. XIII.--45.

AMUSING THE BABY.

BY EVA LOVETT CARSON.

A sudden tumult arose one day,

In the nursery overhead.

'T was like wild horses a-galloping there,

Or a whole procession led.

Nursie, with face of terror,

Deserted her cup of tea,

And rushed up the stair, in a state of despair,

To see what the noise might be.

She found in the room three Zulu chiefs

Prancing across the floor.

Their faces beamed, as they danced and screamed,

And their arms waved more and more.

In a corner sat Ted, the baby,

Silent and pale with fright:

"We're amusing the baby--Oh, Nurse, come and see!"

Cried the Zulus in great delight.

"Oh, horrors!" cried Nursie in anger,

Rushing to poor little Ted.

"To go on that way, such ri_dic_-u-lous play!--

'T will put the child out of his head!"

--With expressions of injured goodness,

Stood Dudley, and Gordon, and Fred,

"Why, Nursie, how mean!--We should think you'd have seen,

We're amusing the baby!" they said.

[Illustration]

THE BROWNIES IN THE MENAGERIE.

BY PALMER COX.

The Brownies heard the news with glee,

That in a city near the sea

A spacious building was designed

For holding beasts of every kind.

From polar snows, from desert sand,

From mountain peak, and timbered land,

The beasts with claw and beasts with hoof,

All met beneath one slated roof.

That night, like bees before the wind,

With home in sight, and storm behind,

The band of Brownies might be seen,

All scudding from the forest green.

Less time it took the walls to scale

Than is required to tell the tale.

The art that makes the lock seem weak,

The bolt to slide, the hinge to creak,

Was theirs to use as heretofore,

With good effect, on sash and door;

And soon the band stood face to face

With all the wonders of the place.

To Brownies, as to children dear,

The monkey seemed a creature queer;

They watched its skill to climb and cling,

By either toe or tail to swing;

Perhaps they got some hints that might

Come well in hand some future night,

When climbing up a wall or tree,

Or chimney, as the case might be.

Then off to other parts they'd range

To gather 'round some creature strange;

To watch the movements of the bear,

Or at the spotted serpents stare.

[Illustration]

The mammoth turtle from its pen

Was driven 'round and 'round again,

And though the coach proved rather slow

They kept it hours upon the go.

Said one, "Before your face and eyes

I'll take that snake from where it lies,

And like a Hindoo of the East,

Benumb and charm the crawling beast,

Then twist him 'round me on the spot

And tie him in a sailor's knot."

Another then was quick to shout,

"We'll leave that snake performance out!

I grant you all the power you claim

To charm, to tie, to twist and tame;

But let me still suggest you try

Your art when no one else is nigh.

Of all the beasts that creep or crawl

From Rupert's Land to China's wall,

In torrid, mild, or frigid zone,

The snake is best to let alone."

Against this counsel, seeming good,

At least a score of others stood.

Said one, "My friend, suppress alarm.

There's nothing here to threaten harm.

Be sure the power that mortals hold

Is not denied the Brownies bold."

[Illustration]

So from the nest, without ado,

A bunch of serpents soon they drew.

And harmlessly as silken bands

The snakes were twisted in their hands.

Some hauled them freely 'round the place;

Some braided others in a trace;

And every knot to sailors known,

Was quickly tied, and quickly shown.

Thus 'round from cage to cage they went,

For some to smile, and some comment

On Nature's way of dealing out

To this a tail, to that a snout

Of extra length, and then deny

To something else a fair supply.

Around the sleeping lion long

They stood an interested throng,

Debating o'er its strength of limb,

Its heavy mane or visage grim.

[Illustration]

But when the bear and tiger growled,

And wolf and lynx in chorus howled,

And starting from its broken sleep,

The monarch rose with sudden leap,

And, bounding round the rocking cage,

With lifted mane, it roared with rage,

And thrust its paws between the bars,

Until it seemed to shake the stars,

A panic seized the Brownies all,

And out they scampered from the hall,

As if they feared incautious men

Had built too frail a prison pen;

And though the way was long and wild,

With obstacles before them piled,

They never halted in their run

Until the forest shade they won.

A LETTER FROM A LITTLE BOY.

[Illustration]

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I want to tell little boys and girls about my two pets.

One is a hen. She lives all alone, and leaves her coop every night, and

goes in the barn, and flies up on old Jim's back, and sleeps there all

night. Old Jim is a horse. Old Jim has a blanket for cold nights. It is an

old one, and there is a hole in it on the top, and the old hen walks all

around till she finds that hole, and puts her feet in there where it is

warm, and there we find her every morning.

My other funny pet is an old cat, named Catharine. She has only three feet,

but I liked her just as well as I ever did, till last summer, when one

morning we found the bird-cage door pushed in, and the bird was gone. We

have another cat. We don't know but the bird flew away; but who pushed the

door in? I don't like any cats so well now. Your friend,

RALPH.

[Illustration]

* * * * *

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS:

A sadder tale I never heard!

Just think of that poor little bird!

Ralph's bird was killed,--I say so, flat,--

By that three-footed sly old cat!

Now, I'm a gentlemanly pup,

And I say cats should be locked up.

For every time I walk the street,

A crowd of cats I'm sure to meet.

They rumple up my smooth, clean coat,

They spoil my collar, scratch my throat,

They rush and push, and tease and whirl,

And pull my ears all out of curl.--

There's nothing on four legs as rude

As cats and kittens are.

Yours,

"DUDE."

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.

DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPET

If I drum in the house,

"Oh, what a noise you make!"

Sighs Mamma. "Baby'll wake!"

If in the garden green

I drum, our Bridget cries:

"Ye'll mak' me spile the pies

And cakes! I can not think!

That droom destroys me wit!

Be off, me b'y,--or quit!"

If I drum in the street,

Out comes Miss Peters, quick,

And says her ma is sick;

Or Doctor Daniel Brown

Calls from his window: "Bub,

That dreadful rub-a-dub

Confuses my ideas.

My sermon is not done.

Run on, my little son!"

The creeps crawl up my back

When I am still, and oh,

Nobody seems to know

How very tired I get

Without some sort of noise,

Such as a boy enjoys!

Last summer, on the farm,

I used to jump and shout,

For Grandpa Osterhout

And Grandma both are deaf.

But soon some neighbors came

And said it was a shame,

The way I scared them all.

They called my shouts "wild yells,"

And asked if I had "spells"

Or "fits, or anything."

You see, grown people all

Forget they once were small.

Now, isn't there one place

Where "wriggley" tired boys

Can make a stunning noise

And play wild Injun-chief,

And Independence-day,

And not be sent away?

Or was that place left out?

Dear Jack, please tell me true;

I've confidence in you.

Your friend without end,

TOMMY.

This is a very touching epistle, my hearers, and Tommy has my hearty

sympathy. There must be such a place as he is looking for, though the

Deacon says that in the course of a long life he has never happened upon

the exact locality. According to the Little School-ma'am, too, it is not

described in any of the geographies; but she says that, for the sake of all

concerned, it is very desirable that the missing paradise of little drummer

boys should be discovered;--to which the Deacon adds, "Perhaps that's why

the grown folk wish to find the North Pole."

While we are upon this subject, here is a letter describing some tiny

drummers that make almost as much noise as patriotic youngsters, and do

quite as much mischief. To his credit, however, it must be said that this

other small musician only makes his appearance as a drummer once in

seventeen years. Is he bent on setting an example, I wonder? He is called

THE SEVENTEEN-YEAR LOCUST.

DEAR JACK: The seventeen-year locust isn't a locust at all. This may seem a

strange thing to say, but it is true, nevertheless. The locust looks very

much like a grasshopper, while the seventeen-year cicada, which is the

insect's proper name, looks a great deal more like a gigantic fly than

anything else.

There is a cicada which comes every year, and is also wrongly called a

locust. Anybody who has been in the country about harvest-time has heard

the shrill noise made by this cicada and probably has come upon his

cast-off shell sticking to a fence-rail or a tree-trunk.

The seventeen-year cicada is a cousin of the one-year chap; though, as he

comes only once in every seventeen years, he is probably only a far-away

cousin. Fancy spending the best part of your life prowling about in the

darkness underground and then coming up into the sunlight with a gorgeous

pair of wings, only to die in a short time!

That is what the seventeen-year cicada does. In the very first place, it is

an egg which its mother deposits in a tiny hole in a twig. In a few weeks

it makes its way out of the egg and drops to the ground, into which it

burrows, and in which it remains for nearly seventeen years before it is

prepared for life above ground.

When, at last, it is ready for the bright sunlight, it may be one foot from

the surface or it may be ten feet deep in the ground. In either case it

begins to dig upward until it finds its way out, when it climbs up the

nearest tree and fastens itself by its sharp claws to a leaf or twig. There

it waits until its back splits open, and behold! it immediately crawls out

of itself, so to speak.

The new insect is a soft, dull fellow at first, but he grows as if he had

been storing up energy for seventeen years for just that one purpose.

Within an hour, two pairs of most beautiful wings have grown, and in a few

hours more it has become hard and active.

The female cicadas are quiet enough, but the males are as noisy as so many

little boys with new drums. Indeed, they do have drums themselves. Just

under their wings are drums made of shiny membrane as beautiful as white

silk, and these are kept rattling almost all the time.

One cicada can make noise enough; but imagine the din of millions of them

all going at the same time. It sounds as if all the frogs in the country

had come together to try to drown the noise of a saw-mill. Now it is the

saw-mill you hear, and now the frogs.

[Illustration]

It sounds like a big story to say millions, but if you could go into the

woods where they are, you might be willing to say billions. I have counted

over a thousand cast-off shells on one small tree, and on one birch leaf I

have seen twelve shells. And the earth in some places is like a sieve from

the holes made by the cicadas as they came out.

But within a few weeks from the insects' first appearance their eggs have

been laid and the cicadas have all died. A great many of them are eaten by

the birds and chickens, but most of them simply can not live any longer.

Yours truly,

JOHN R. CORVELL

"THE GREAT LUBBER LOCUST."

As it appears from Mr. Coryell's letter that the seventeen-year cicada is

only an imitation locust, I shall give you a portrait of another member of

the family who is, perhaps, more nearly related to the insect he is named

after. At all events, he is certainly more like a grasshopper than is the

seventeen-year cicada. The grasshopper that lives in this part of the world

is a fine fellow to hop, as you know, but he always lights on his feet, and

looks as composed and as much at his ease as if he had walked to the spot

in the most dignified manner.

[Illustration]

Well, now look at this picture! See one absurd fellow lying on his back and

pawing the air with all his long legs, and another, like a circus clown,

standing on his own foolish green head. Would you think these awkward and

ridiculous creatures bore any relationship to the grave little hoppers who

gently alight on your clothes as you run through the grass, stop a moment

to stare at you with their great goggle eyes, and then take leave without

saying "good-morning"?

He is no less than a cousin, I assure you, from the Far West, the great

plains where few beasts, birds, or insects can find enough to live upon.

This fellow does not suffer for food; he is the biggest of his family in

America, and his curious performances have brought him several names. By

some people he is called "the clumsy grasshopper," and by others he is

dubbed "the great lubber locust," while by the scientific men, as usual, he

has been given a long Latin name. Of course, you will be so eager to know

it that you will wish to find it out for yourselves!

THE DOG AND THE QUEER GRASSHOPPERS.

[Illustration]

By the way, a story is told of a dog that was fond of snapping up

grasshoppers, and eating them. In one of his journeys with his master, he

chanced to fall among those queer grasshoppers--the lubber locusts. As he

ran along through the grass, his feet started up hundreds of the clumsy

fellows, and, in trying to jump out of his way, they came down in groups

upon him, as you see in the picture. Some stood on their heads upon his

back; others turned somersaults over his ears, and a few struck him full in

the face. Besides being impertinent they were very large, each two or three

times the size and weight of one of our modest little hoppers. So poor Tom

was first annoyed, and then scared. One or two, or even half a dozen, he

could eat up or drive away, but a hundred were too many, and at last Tom

dropped his head and tail and ran for his life, while his master scolded,

and his master's friend laughed at the droll sight of a big dog running

away from grasshoppers.

THE LETTER-BOX.

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

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

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

the magazine with contributions will please postpone sending their MSS.

until after the last-named date.

If C. F. H. will send us her address, we shall gladly forward to her a

number of letters sent us by readers of ST. NICHOLAS, in answer to

her query.

* * * * *

LA CRESCENT.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: While reading in the November number of ST. NICHOLAS

about "Our Joe," I thought some of the ST. NICHOLAS readers would be

interested in hearing about _our_ Joe. _Our_ Joe is a Broncho pony that

belonged to Rain-in-the-face, a chief in one of Sitting Bull's bands. When

the ponies were taken and driven down in a drove, Our Joe got loose from

the others and was caught somewhere near here. His name was Joe, but when

Papa brought him home and we saw how little he was, we called him Little

Joe, and when we rode him he went so easy we named him Little Joe Dandy.

We have a little red cart we call the dump, to drive him in. He is such a

funny little fellow that everybody has to take a second look at him. I am

five feet tall, and his shoulders are not quite as high as mine; his hair

in winter is as thick and long as a buffalo's; his tail touches the ground,

and his mane hangs far down on his shoulders, and is always stuck full of

burrs in summer. His color is iron-gray, if it's anything, but it's hard to

tell what color he is. I had my picture taken on horseback, and he looks as

if he was about ready to fall asleep, but he has life in him if he takes a

notion to go! He is mean to the boys. He picked my brother up by the

shoulder and shook him, and one day he kicked Papa.

There was a pair of them--Our Joe and a Little Buckskin. The Buckskin would

bunt his head against Joe, as a signal to go, and then they would make

things fly! Every one who knew the pony before we got him says he was so

ugly, it was dangerous to go around him; but he is the kindest little

fellow to us. If I go out in the pasture where he is, he will follow me

everywhere I go. We think the world of him. Hoping my letter is not too

long, I remain,

our constant reader, H. C.

* * * * *

CHICAGO.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I live in Chicago, where the boys play marbles almost

all the time in the spring. I am a fairly good player. I have six hundred

and four. I hope the boys who read ST. NICHOLAS will try to get as many

marbles.

Yours truly, CHESHIRE S.

* * * * *

CITY OF MEXICO.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl seven years old, and live alone with

my father, who is a Baptist missionary. I have a mother, and little

brother, and two sisters, living in the States.

I have learned to spell the names of three places that I can see from our

roof. They are Chapultepec, and Popocatepetl, and Ixiaccihuatl.

There are lots of strange things here. We never slide downhill here,

because there is no snow. I like ST. NICHOLAS, especially the "Brownies."

EDWINA S.

* * * * *

B----A, N. J.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: In looking over our old ST. NICHOLASES we found, in the

January number for 1882, a piece entitled, "Puppets and Puppet Shows," and

as it struck our fancy, we agreed to try it. After several attempts, we

succeeded in obtaining very good figures. With a little ingenuity and the

plans of three busy brains, we arranged an excellent screen and scenery;

then, with two of us to work and one to read, the puppets were set in

motion. Our audience, though not large, was an appreciative one, and the

show was a grand success. The puppets were carefully placed in a box, and

will be kept for another entertainment.

Last summer we girls made a twine house in our orchard. A couple of cows

strayed in one afternoon and ran through the house, and the chickens dug up

a number of the morning-glories; but, in spite of these obstacles, a great

many happy hours were spent in the house.

We wait impatiently from one month to another for your pleasant magazine,

and we remain,

Your interested readers,

"PUSS-IN-BOOTS,"

"CARABAS,"

"CORSANDO."

* * * * *

CAMILLA VAN KLEECK: The article you wish is entitled "Lady Bertha," and was

printed in ST. NICHOLAS for December, 1880.

* * * * *

EASTON, MASS.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: This is the first year I have ever taken you and the

first year I have ever lived on a farm. I enjoy reading your stories and

enjoy living on a farm. When I lived in the city I could not have as many

pets as I can out here. Neither should I have had you. You are sent us

through the kindness of a Mr. Ames, to whom I should like to extend my

thanks through your columns. I also wish to thank you for making your pages

so interesting to us boys and girls. Yours truly,

W. S. B.

* * * * *

ST. LOUIS.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have taken the ST. NICHOLAS for three years, and I

like it very much. I take it for my little sister now, but always read it

first myself, and enjoy it very much, and so does my little sister. I send

it to her by mail after I am through with it.

I have been making my own living for five years, and I do not get much time

to read. I almost always read the ST. NICHOLAS going and coming from work,

as I have to take the street-car.

Seven years ago, I came from Sweden and could not speak a word of English,

but now everybody takes me for an American.

There is some splendid coasting and skating in Sweden, but I do not think

the young people here would enjoy going to boarding-school there; at least,

not the one I went to. They are very strict. For instance, once when I did

not know my lesson, I had to stay up until 12 o'clock that night and study

it by moonlight, without having had a bit of supper; and the next morning,

instead of my breakfast, I had to stand in the center of the dining-room

and watch the others eat. I intend to write a story when I get older, and

relate my experience there.

I should feel very proud if you would print this letter, as it is the first

one I have written to you.

Yours truly, JO.

* * * * *

MAY BRIDGES: The address which you desire is "The Art Interchange, 37 West

22d street, New York City, N. Y."

* * * * *

MCGREGOR, IOWA.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I live about a mile from the "Great Father of Waters." I

can not see the river from my home, but as I go to school in McGregor I can

see it every day.

McGregor is a small town of about 2000 inhabitants. It is nestled in among

the hills, and some people think it a very pretty place; indeed, some think

it ought to be a summer resort.

About a mile and a half from here is the highest bluff on the Mississippi,

called Pike's Peak. I suppose it is named after the famous Pike's Peak in

Colorado. From it there is a very lovely view. We can see the mouth of the

Wisconsin River, the State of Wisconsin, and a great distance up and down

the Mississippi. The river is full of islands near here. Believe me your

loving reader,

BESSIE B. L.

* * * * *

L. M.: You can obtain the information you wish, by referring to article

"Iamblichus" in Smith's Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and

Mythology.

* * * * *

FREDERICKSBURG, VA.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: This is the second year we have taken you; at least, the

second year since I can remember. We took you some years ago, and then

stopped, and started again two years ago. When Papa told us each to vote

for which paper we wanted last year, I think we all voted for you, and take

you again this year. I look forward to your coming with delight. I must

confess I am selfish about it, for I always try to get you first.

This is a quiet old town, with beautiful scenery all around it. There are

no mountains, but it lies between two high hills, in a little valley.

Washington used to live here, and his house is only a square from ours.

Mary Washington's monument is quite near, and we often go there. I have

often climbed the heights where the battle of Fredericksburg was fought. It

overlooks the quiet little town, peacefully slumbering, and it is hard to

realize that once the shells and balls were flying across it from hill to

hill. I have lived most of my life here, and I think it the nicest place in

the world. I fear I have tired you with my long letter. So now, good-bye,

dear old ST. NICHOLAS. I look forward already to your next coming. I

remain, your devoted reader,

CARRIE B.

* * * * *

FORT SILL, I. T.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have a brother who is nearly seventeen years old. He

had the first number of ST. NICHOLAS, and we have taken it most of the time

ever since. I have a year's subscription for my birthday. I am always glad

when the time comes for you.

Your reader, SARAH B. H.

* * * * *

NORTH LEOMINSTER, MASS.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl eleven years old, and take your

magazine. I am deeply interested in "Little Lord Fauntleroy" and "George

Washington," and hope they will be continued for a long time. I have a

number of pets; among them are nine cats, which I like better than all the

others. One is very large; he weighs eleven and a half pounds. He stays in

the house 'most all the time. His name is Toddlekins, and he goes to bed

with my brother every night. We live on a farm, and keep five horses. In

summer we go to ride almost every day. I have a pair of wooden horses,

which I will describe to you, as it may interest some of your little

readers. You take a keg and bore four holes in the side of it, and then

take short round handles and put four of them into the holes. Then take two

shingles and drive them into one end of the keg (for a neck); then take

another shingle and cut to the shape of a horse's head, and put it between

the two shingles that have been driven on to the top of the keg; then put a

feather duster in the other end, and you have a horse complete; when done,

they are comical-looking enough. I like to read the letters in the

Letter-box. I hope you will print my letter, as I have not written one

before.

Your interested reader, M. C. B.

* * * * *

OUR PRESIDENTS.

BY G. MACLOSKEE.

_A help for memorizing United States History_.

FATHER WASHINGTON left us united and free,

And John Adams repelled French aggression at sea;

Boundless Louisiana was Jefferson's crown,

And when Madison's war-ships won lasting renown,

And the steam-boat was launched, then Monroe gave the world

His new doctrine; and Quincy his banner unfurled

For protection. Then Jackson, with railways and spoils,

Left Van Buren huge bankruptcies, panics, and broils.

Losing Harrison, Tyler by telegraph spoke;

And the Mexican war brought accessions to Polk.

Taylor lived not to wear the reward of ambition,

And Fillmore's sad slave-law stirred up abolition;

So, compromise failing, Pierce witnessed the throes

Of the trouble in Kansas. Secession arose

Through the halting Buchanan. But Lincoln was sent

To extinguish rebellion. Then some years were spent

Reconstructing by Johnson. Grant lessened our debt;

Hayes resumed specie-payments; and Garfield was set

On Reform, which, as Arthur soon found, came to stay.

Now for President Cleveland good citizens pray.

* * * * *

GREENVILLE, S. C.

MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been a subscriber to your charming magazine

for over three years, and have never yet read a letter dated Greenville, S.

C., so thought I would write to you from that place. Greenville is a city

in the upper part of South Carolina. It is divided into two parts by a

small river which runs through it, and on which are several cotton-mills.

It is about thirty miles from Caesar's Head, a mountain said to bear a

striking resemblance to a profile view of the human face. It used to be a

stopping-point for travelers on their way to Greenville. During the very

severe weather last winter, we thought that our town, instead of being

called Greenville, should be named after some snowy berg of Greenland.

It seems to be the custom of your correspondents to give their ages and a

minute description of their occupation, so I will follow. I am fourteen

years old, and have never been to school a day in my life, my mother having

always taught me at home until this year, when I have a tutor for Algebra

and Latin. I continue the study of French with my mother, using Fasquelle's

Grammar and reading a pretty story called "Le Petit Robinson de Paris,"

besides having lessons in English composition, geography, history,

declamation, music, and drawing.

I am a lineal descendant, being a great-great-granddaughter, of "The Martyr

of the Revolution," as he is sometimes called, Colonel Isaac Hayne, who was

hanged by the British, and of whose execution at Charlestown a very

interesting account is given by Ramsay, in his "History of South Carolina."

My grandmother had a lock of Colonel Hayne's hair. It was a beautiful

chestnut color, and had a slight wave through it. I am also a cousin of the

poet, Paul Hayne.

I like all the stories in ST. NICHOLAS, but my favorite is "Little Lord

Fauntleroy," who seems to be a second Paul Dombey, with his quaint,

old-fashioned sayings. I hope he will not die shut up in the gloomy castle,

with his cross old grandfather, away from the companionship of "Dearest."

With best wishes for the welfare of your delightful magazine, I remain,

Your devoted reader, MARGUERITE H.

* * * * *

THE TWO TOADS.

TWO TOADS went out to take a walk,

And being old friends they had a long talk.

Said one to the other, "A leaf I see.

Will you be so kind as to bring it to me?"

"Of course!" said the other. "Let's build us a house,

And have for a pony a little gray mouse."

"Yes," said the other, "and a carriage too,

Of a nice red tulip, which I'll bring to you."

They built them the carriage and harnessed the mouse,

And drove to the mill-pond to build them a house.

They built them a house very near to the mill,

And if they're not dead, they are living there still.

MABEL WILDER (9 years old).

* * * * *

We print this little letter just as it came to us.

ESCANABA, MICH.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I like you very much. since we have been taking you we

got some ginney pigs they are quite cute.

GENIE A. LONGLEY (aged eight).

* * * * *

A young friend sends us this drawing, which he calls:

[Illustration: A FOURTH OF JULY TRAGEDY.]

* * * * *

SOUTH FRONT ST., HARRISBURG, PA.

EDITOR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought that perhaps the following-description of a

sort of kaleidoscope would be of service to your magazine, for the

entertainment of your young readers, on a rainy evening:

Have the room brilliantly lighted, then raise the lid of a square piano

just as if for a player, but, instead of resting it on the surface of the

piano itself, let it rest upon two or three large books placed on the top

of the piano, so as to form at the front, where the hinges are, an angle of

sixty degrees. Cover the open side of the triangle thus formed with a thick

cover, which should extend also over the crack caused by the hinges of the

lid. Thus you will have a hollow, triangular prism, the length of the

piano, open at both ends. Polish well with a silk duster the inside of one

end of this triangular prism; hold pieces of crazy patchwork, or long

pieces of silk ribbon,--the more variegated and brilliant the colors the

better,--in a large hanging bunch, and shake gently about two inches in

front of the polished end toward the angle of the front, while the

spectator looks through the opposite end of the kaleidoscope. A watch,

chain, or looking-glass among the ribbons makes a pleasing variety.

Yours very respectfully,

MARY J. KNOX.

P. S. The lid on the top of an upright piano may also form a kaleidoscope

in the same way, but smaller.

* * * * *

PHILADELPHIA, PENN.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am one of the many little folk who have listened to

readings from your pages all my life. I am too small to write you a letter

all myself, so Mamma will write it, for I wish to tell you about our salt

crystals. You remember you told us how to make them, in your number for

July, 1884. Mamma and I each started one, and every one thinks they are

great curiosities. Papa photographed them so that you could see them also.

The large one belongs to Mamma, and the small one is mine; they are about

five months old. We have ceased adding salt and water, and have them under

a glass shade, one resting on the other, and they make a very pretty

ornament. Every time we stop to admire them we smack our lips and think how

well-seasoned the ST. NICHOLAS always is.

We receive our ST. NICHOLAS on the 25th of each month, and, dear Editor,

you may always know that on that night there is a little hand resting under

a pillow, holding tightly your enjoyable book waiting for the morn to dawn.

Lovingly yours, HAROLD H. T.

[Illustration: THE SALT TUMBLERS.]

* * * * *

We thank the young friends whose names here follow for pleasant letters

received from them: J. G. F., Bettie M. K., Gussie and Nannie M., Edith

Norris, Harold K. Palmer, J. E. P., Eleanor D. Olney, Daisy B. Holladay,

Nan E. Parrott, Elizabeth P., May E. Waldo, Alma and Estelle, Irene B. D.,

H. Olina Herring, Carrie L. Walker, Hattie Homer, Florence Halsted, Fay and

Fan, Clara E. Longworth, May M. Boyd, Annie G. Barnard, Katie E. G., Alice

Butterfield, Mabel P., E. C., James H. Saycock, E. Converse, Abe M. B., P.

C. Brittain, L. H. E., May M. Boyd, Marie Clark, Morris Miner, Jo and Flo

Overstreet, Roy C. Chambers, May Barton, Bessie Heath, Lawrence E. Horton,

Charles R. Van Horn, Albertie G. Russell, S. M. K., Henry H. Townshend,

Edith S. C., Blanche Sloat, Sadie Nichols, Jesse L. Pusey, Bessie Lenhart,

John N. Force, Madge C. DeW., E. A. Burnham, "Sammy," A. G. K., Fannie B.

S., Emily T. H., John R. P., Jr., Tommy Bangs, Florence, Julia McC.,

Brenda, Harry M. M., Gertie E. Kendall, H. E. H., A. K. E., Anna E.

Roelker, M. H. N., "Katie," Etta A. Harper, May S., Tillie Lutz, W. P.

Haslett, Charles L., Charlie P. Storrs, Maurice S. S., May, Freddie M.,

Florence M. Wilcox, Ida R. G., Louis R. E., Bertha, Muriel C. Gere, Ralph

M. Fletcher, Bertha B., Ella O., C. H. Pease, Alice W. Brown, Clara L.,

Arthur F. Hudson, Katie, Thomas H. King, Jr., Mary L. Mayo, O. P., Carrie

L. Moulthrop, Alice Dickey, M. Eva T., Daisy W., Marie G. Hinkley, Agatha

Montie Duncan, Agnes S. Barker, Samuel S. Watson, Madaleine C. Selby,

Hattie A. Taber, Cecelia R. G., Belle Sudduth, Johnnie E. Shaw, Inez B.

Fletcher, Eva, Ferrars J., C. P, Hermann Thomas, Annie and Margaret,

Edmonia Powers, Alice M. B., D. and A., Anna A. H., Lizzie Kellogg, Louis

J. Hall, Charles H. Webster, C. L. Wright, Jr., Merrick R. Baldwin, Eleanor

Hobson, Lottie A. D., John Moore, Harold Smith, C. W. F., L. Hazeltine, A.

C. Crosby, Mabel L., May J., Grace Plummer, Alice Dodge, Bessie K. S., Ella

Bisell, Irma St. John, Irene Lasier, F. L. Waldo, Ruth Morse, Maude G.

Barnum, Bertha M. Crane, Aggie Drain, Roy Gray Bevan, John W. Wainwright,

Edith, Ella L. Bridges, Bessie Rhodes, Floy G., C. A. G., L. O. C., Mary S.

Collar, Pearl Reynolds, Evelyn Auerbach, Mabel E. D., Grace Fleming, Eddie

Persinger, Charlie B., Lillie Story, Maude B., Mary M. Steele, Doris Hay,

Gussie Moley, Ethel W. F., Arthur, Mary Springer, Marion M. Tooker, Mary F.

K., Lizzie E. Crowell, Josie W. Pennypacker, Bertie Barse, Nellie B., J. W.

L., Maude Cullen, Daisy C. Baker, Esther S. Barnard, Blanche M. C., Aurelia

M. Snider, Howard E. T., Bacon, Hildegarde G., Kittie L. Norris, Nellie L.

Howes, Leverette Early, Virginia Beall, Henry W. Bellows, Bissell Currie,

Violet Quinn, Mamie Sage, Belle C. Hill, Alvah and Arden Rockwood, Lillian

Miln, Adele Yates, Lillie S. E., Ollie C., Maggie Wispert.

[Illustration: The Agassiz Association. SIXTY-THIRD REPORT.]

A COURSE OF OBSERVATIONS ON TREES.

The United States Government, through the Forestry Division of the

Agricultural Department, solicits the assistance of volunteer observers

belonging to the Agassiz Association. The chief of the Division of

Forestry, in consultation with the President of the A. A., is preparing a

special "schedule of phenological observations" for the A. A. This is a

very simple series of questions, in spite of its long name. One object of

this series of observations is to determine the effect of climate upon the

growth of plants. Among the facts to be noted are the dates of the

appearance of first leaf, first flower, and first fruit. Nothing is

required that can not be accurately and easily done by an intelligent boy

or girl of twelve years of age. It is earnestly desired by the Department

that as many as possible of our members undertake this work, in the

interest of science, and for the practical results of the information

sought.

All who are willing to try, will kindly send their addresses, at once, to

"The Chief of the Division of Forestry, Department of Agriculture,

Washington, D. C."

The complete schedule of observations desired will then be sent to them,

and they can begin at once.

THE IOWA CONVENTION.

The following programme has been prepared for our next General Convention

to be held at Davenport, Iowa, in August:

WEDNESDAY, August 25:--9 A.M. Reception of the National delegates, and

visit to the Academy of Sciences.--2 P.M. Opening of Convention, 1. Prayer.

2. Address of welcome by Senator James Wilson of Iowa. 3. Response by the

President of the A. A. 4. Reading of papers.--7 P.M. Reception and banquet,

with toasts and responses.

THURSDAY, August 26:--9 A.M. 1. Question Box. 2. Visit to the Government

Island.--2 P.M. 1. Working Session. 2. Address by the President of the A.

A.--7 P.M. Lecture, by Prof. T. H. McBride, of the Iowa State University.

FRIDAY, August 27:--Steam-boat excursion down the Mississippi.

PROF. CROSBY'S CLASS IN MINERALOGY.

BOSTON, MASS.

The class now includes 122 _bona fide_ correspondents. The great majority

have very greatly and agreeably surprised me by the excellence of their

work. I have been especially delighted by the success of the chemical

experiments. I was in doubt at first as to the propriety of introducing

these; but I should never hesitate again. The success of the class is so

much beyond my expectations that I am fully reconciled to the time and

labor it has cost me.

W. O. CROSBY.

HONORABLE MENTION.

MR. PAUL L. SMITH, President of Chapter 653, of La Porte, Ind., goes

fifty-nine miles, on the first Saturday of every month, to preside at the

meetings of his Chapter. And yet some doubt whether Natural History can

awaken the interest of the young!

THE A. A. BY THE SEA.

MISS FLORENCE MAY LYON and two associate teachers of the Detroit High

School, members of Chapter 743, are making arrangements to take a bevy of a

dozen or twenty young ladies for a summer vacation of six weeks, to the

charming town of Annisquam, Mass. They propose to teach them in as

"unbookish and delightful a way as possible about sea-side plants and

animals." These ladies have had abundant experience, and we wish them the

greatest success.

BIRDS' EGGS.

The destruction of the singing birds of America is a growing and a very

serious evil. Many ladies wear on their bonnets enough birds to flood a

grove with melody--if only the birds were not dead and in pieces.

We may make an appeal on this subject to the girls and women of the A. A.,

at a later date, but just now it is a question of robbing birds' nests.

This association strictly maintains the scientific ground that when birds'

eggs are actually _needed_ by a young naturalist, as a means of

identification or of practical knowledge, it is justifiable to take them,

when the law allows. But the collection of eggs as curiosities, and the

wholesale robbery of nests for purposes of sale or exchange, is a wanton

destruction wholly unworthy of any earnest student of nature.

In view of the impossibility of discriminating between the two classes of

collectors, we shall hereafter decline to publish in ST. NICHOLAS, any

requests for the sale, purchase, or exchange of the eggs of singing or game

birds.

_We shall notice, as formerly, eggs of the Penguin, eagle, crow, and

ostrich._

DELAYED CHAPTER REPORTS.

60, _Pigeon Cove, Mass._ We have not lost a member from our books since you

first enrolled us, and although at present we are all so occupied by our

daily work that we can not hold regular meetings, we all look forward to

the time when we shall be able to begin again.--Charles H. Andrews.

150, _Flushing, L. I._ Our Chapter has not been very active during the past

year, but I hope in the near future to build up a lively Chapter. Father

and Mother will help me.--Frances M. L. Heaton, Sec.

189, _W. Medford, Mass._ The Chapter is still in existence, and is holding

meetings every week.--Daisy G. Dame, Sec.

257, _Plantsville, Conn._ We have been very successful; meetings full of

interest and well attended. Our last paper on "Crystals" was by E. N.

Walkley, who illustrated the subject by plaster casts. We have a good male

quartet in our Chapter; also gentlemen who play on the violin, flute,

piano, and 'cello, so we can have a good time if we want it, at any

meeting.

We have just papered, painted, and whitewashed our room, and intend to give

an entertainment to procure funds to buy a new carpet (_Bravo!_)--Albert L.

Ely, Pres.

287, _Ottawa, Ill._ Our members are scattered, some in college, most of the

others going soon; but we do not wish to be counted out of that society

from which we have received so much pleasure and profit.--Edgar Eldredge,

Sec.

331, _New Orleans, La._ This Chapter has passed through severe trials,

being sustained at one time by only two earnest members, but it is now

triumphantly successful. It is unique in that it has for its president a

gentleman, Mr. P. M. Hoit, who lives in Santa Barbara, California, more

than fifteen hundred miles away from the Chapter. He sends plans of work,

rules of order, by-laws, etc., and really governs the Chapter, with which

he first became acquainted through a letter asking about exchanges. The

Chapter has over 600 specimens.--Percy S. Benedict, Sec.

350, _Los Angeles, Cal._ The children never tire of going to the beach, and

a trip to the mountains is another favorite excursion. Our cabinets grow,

and I sometimes fear we shall get crowded out of the house by the "trash"

that is accumulating!--Mrs. M. F. Bradshaw, Sec.

366, _Webster Groves, Mo._ We have thirteen workers, all active.

We have a collection of 510 specimens, mostly minerals and fossils of our

own State; a library of 123 volumes; a microscope; and a chemical

laboratory. We intend to hold an encampment this summer. How do you think

it would work to have a "Midsummer Night's Dream," on some summer

evening?--we might have the telescope-man come out from the city, do some

star-gazing, and have an open-air magic lantern entertainment? (_It would

work "to a charm"!_)--Edwin R. Allan, Sec.

400, _Fargo, Dakota._ We gave an oyster supper a few weeks ago, and cleared

$15. Our rooms are in the Masonic Block, and the Masons kindly let us use

their dishes for the occasion. We have one of the finest rooms for this

class of work in the Northwest. Our members are taking hold in earnest, and

it will be a success. We have a fine teacher in Judge Mitchell. Mr.

Mitchell will be glad to aid any of the western Chapters, if they wish. I

think for my part there could be more chapters formed in Dakota, if the

boys and girls would volunteer work earnestly. How many of the Dakota

Chapters would like to organize the Dakota Assembly of the A. A.? Those in

favor will please correspond with me.--Frank Brown, Sec.

THE FIFTH CENTURY

403, _Newark, N. J._ We have begun to study the mounting of plants and

leaves. We are going to admit some lady friends to our Chapter, which we

think will be a great benefit to us.--Chas. Barrows, Sec. Wm. Earle, Pres.

404, _Baraboo, Wis._ We are still working, and our collection is steadily

growing. One of our boys caught a common painted turtle, I put it into a

tub with another of the same kind. They soon became so tame that they took

food from my hand quite readily. One day I fed them as usual, but before

they finished their meal I emptied the water from the tub, when one of them

that had a worm in its mouth began to choke and could not swallow. I gave

the other one, too, but he only took the end of it in his mouth. But as

soon as I put water enough in for them to cover their heads, they swallowed

as easily as ever. I tried this several times with the same result. We gave

an entertainment and cleared $25.--Marie McKennan, Sec.

409, _Sag Harbor, N. Y._ This year has been marked by greater progress than

any other since our organization. In April, 1885, a valuable addition was

made to our cabinet by the finding of a shrew--_genus sorex_. This little

animal, the least of the mammals, measured not quite two inches in length,

excluding the tail. During May and June we organized for summer work, on a

new plan,--the President appointing committees to collect in special

departments. In July and August we spent numerous "field-days" in the woods

and on the shore. We found a rare specimen of trap-rock. The skeleton of a

bottle-fish excited a great deal of curiosity. One of our members who had

caught a live one identified it.

In November, we commenced a series of discussions: "Which is of more value

to mankind--cotton or wool?" (Decided in favor of wool.) "What is the most

useful mammal?" (Four members voted for cow and four for sheep.) "What

insect is most valuable in promoting human happiness?" (Decided for

honey-bee.) "What is the most valuable fish?" (Cod.) Many other questions

were debated. We have received many curious specimens: sea-horse,

porcupine-fish, key-hole shells, etc. We intend to collect sea-weed and

mosses this summer.--Cornelius R. Sleight, Sec.

423, _Perth Amboy, N. J._ Our thirty members have manifested great interest

in collecting and examining specimens from the different divisions of the

animal kingdom. Much attention has been given to articulates, including

insects of the sea. At present we are engaged in a very interesting course

of observation in mineralogy. We have the highest appreciation of the

assistance we have derived from the A. A., in learning to observe and love

nature.--Bertha M. Mitchell, Cor. Sec.

424, _Decorah, Iowa._ Several of our lady members are teachers, and highly

value our meetings. We shall try to have public lectures in geology. We are

connecting with these subjects that of humane work, proposing to organize

as the Agassiz Band of Mercy. So we have two harmonious lines of good work

begun, and hope to make both of them permanent.--M. R. Steele, Sec.

428, _St. Paul, Minn._ Since our organization we have had seventy-eight

meetings, all at our house. As one of our number is studying for the

occupation of mining engineer, and has a forge, furnace, lathe, etc., we

have decided to study iron, steel, and the methods of mining and

manufacturing them. We have a club-room, where we keep our cabinets, and a

small library.--Philip C. Allen, Sec.

436, _Toronto, Canada._ Our president and several of our members have moved

from town, so we have done comparatively nothing since I wrote you. But

Charles Ashdown and I are endeavoring to get some new members, and I

believe we shall have a stronger and better Chapter than ever.--David J.

Howell, Sec.

439, _Wilmington, Del._ We have collected more cocoons and chrysalids this

winter than ever before. Many of them are very rare, among them, _Achemon_,

_P. satellitia_, _Smerinthis gemmatus_, _E. imperalis_, and _Callosama

angulitera_.--Percy C. Pyle.

440, _Keene, N. H._ We have several hundred specimens, mostly _lepidoptera_

and _coleoptera_. Have found a great many fine beetles lately under the

bark of dead trees and stumps where they pass the winter. We always note

the place of capture of all specimens, and all other items of

interest.--Frank H. Foster, Sec.

448, _Washington, D. C._ We bring to our third anniversary, a gratifying

sense of well-being and desert, with promise of continued vigor. Our

portfolios hold 343 reports, and every member is there represented. Our

fifty books and pamphlets are read with application. We are ambitious for a

children's Chapter, and long to make discoveries. Perhaps some of us may

some day, and with this thrilling thought we are planning careful summer

walks, with thoughtful "observation books."--Sabelle Macfarland.

450, _Fitchburg, Mass._ As we have consolidated all our Fitchburg Chapters

into one, now known as No. 48, Fitchburg, A, there is no special report

from 450, but I think we now have an earnest society on a solid

foundation.--Geo. F. Whittemore.

453, _Oswego, N. Y._ Active. Will soon hold meetings weekly instead of

fortnightly. Special study for the year has been archaeology and geology.

Have been much interested in the _archeopteryx_. On archaeology, will send

you a more lengthy report.--Will A. Burr, Sec.

[_The promised report came in due time, and it is a masterpiece of patient

work,--carefully illustrated with drawings of Indian arrow-heads, axes,

pottery, needles, fish-hooks, pipes, and anvils. It covers twelve pages

closely written. We value it, and have placed it carefully on file._]

460, _Washington, D. C._ This Chapter was organized in the spring of 1882

from a small association we then had; it had already existed for two years

or more when we heard of the A. A. We concluded this would give us a wider

scope for scientific investigations, and so made formal application for

admission into the Association, which had already advanced with marvelous

rapidity.

Vernon M. Dorsey, an unusually promising mineralogist and chemist, was

elected president. When a new member was elected it cost him nothing, so he

was elected with the full consent of _all_ the members, not one objecting.

Passive members were allowed in this Chapter, they paying ten cents a

month, which money went into the treasury.

We adopted most of the rules and regulations in the Hand-book, and, after

having arranged the executive portion of the Chapter, we commenced to have

a regular course of essays or lectures, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, given by

the active members, which lectures the passive members could attend if so

inclined. After the lectures we generally had debates, and as each member

had a different branch of Natural History to which he devoted his

attention, the lectures and debates were not monotonous.

We ran on pretty smoothly for about a year and a half, until the money in

the treasury commenced to accumulate, when, with the exception of one or

two members, the Chapter spontaneously combusted.

We have never been able to rebuild it. We can hold no meetings. _It

exists_, really, _only in name_, because the prospects for the future look

rather dull.

If you will allow our Chapter to remain on the list, I should much prefer

you would do so.

I have carried on investigations in various branches of zooelogy, but, as

this is merely a report of the Chapter, I will not enter into details

concerning them.

I hope that the other Chapters will meet with better success than ours,

though it may yet revive.

Yours respectfully, F. A. Reynolds, Cor. Sec.

[_We are sorry that this excellent Chapter experienced "spontaneous

combustion," but we hope and believe that it will ere long also experience

voluntary resurrection._]

465, _Waterville, Maine._ Our president has moved away. The rest of us have

been exceedingly busy. We have been obliged to vacate our room, and, as we

could not get another, have had to store our specimens. But we are not dead

yet! Far from it! It is only a case of suspended animation. We fully expect

to take up work again this summer.--Charles W. Spencer, Sec.

[_Not even "suspended animation;" the Chapter is only catching its breath

for more vigorous exertion._]

470, _Nicollet, Wis._ Still prospering. We have a small room nicely fitted

up, in our High School building, of which we are quite proud. We have a

working membership of twenty-four, and hold regular meetings.

[_A friend of the Chapter adds to this report of Miss Sara Ritchie, the

secretary, the following:_]

"I was exceedingly interested in listening to the different members

reporting formally the occurrence of our spring birds, with which was

associated the arrival of certain insects. Two years ago, such reports were

impossible, as the observing faculties of very few of the members had been

sufficiently trained. If nothing more has been acquired, this one habit of

close observation, developed by our A. A. work, is worth all it may have

cost those who have encouraged and carried out the plan of the

Association."

CHANGE OF ADDRESS

The address of Chapter 850 is now simply Chapter 850 A. A., Box 1587,

Bangor, Maine.

EXCHANGES.

Correspondence with other family Chapters whose members are beginners in

botany or entomology.--Mrs. R. Van Dien, Jr., Box 13, Hohokus, Bergen Co.,

N. J.

Correspondence desired. Entomology and botany.--Paul L. Smith, 3348 Indiana

Av., Chicago, Ill.

Postmarks and fossils (_Lingulipis pinnaformis_) for books on zooelogy.

Write first.--Chas. F. Baker, St. Croix Falls, Wis.

_Cecropia_ moths for other _lepidoptera_.--W. B. Greenleaf, Box 311, Normal

Park, Ill.

Correspondence with other Chapters earnestly desired.--Stephen R. Wood,

Sec. 776, Oakland, Cal.

Florida (east coast) shells, star-fishes, coquina, small live alligators,

etc., etc., for anything rare or curious.--J. Earle Bacon, Ormond, Volusia

Co., Fla.

Coquina, trap-rock, asphaltum, Skates' egg-case, key-hole shell, and

cocoons.--C. R. Sleight, Sec. Ch. 409, Sag Harbor, L. I., N. Y.

All kinds of Chinese curiosities for fine Indian relics.--Kurt

Kleinschmidt, Box 752, Helena, Montana.

NEW AND REORGANIZED CHAPTERS.

_No._ _Name._ _No. of Members._ _Address._

957 Galveston, Texas (B) 9 Emma E. Walden, Cor. 34th

and N. 1/2 streets.

958 Greenup, Ky. (A) 20 Mrs. Geo. Gibbs, Box 104.

959 Hartwick Sem., N. Y. (A) 5 Alfred A. Hiller.

960 Geneva, N. Y. (C) 6 F. H. Bachman, Box 559.

961 Hartford, Conn. (G) 12 Austin H. Pease,

4 Canton street.

962 Kansas City, Mo. (B) 5 R. F. Breeze, 611 E. 17th St.

963 Geddes, N. Y. (A) 4 G. E. Avery, Box 76.

964 Manchester, Iowa (A) 20 Fred Blair.

965 Three Rivers, Mich. (A) 7 G. W. Daniels.

966 Randolph, Ill. (A) 24 Miss Grace Stewart.

863 Hinsdale, Ill. (B) 9 N. H. Webster.

60 Rockport, Mass, (A) 12 Chas. H. Andrews.

145 Indianapolis, Ind. (A) 8 G. L. Payne,

care of T. B. Linn.

352 Amherst, Mass. 4 Miss Edith S. Field.

DISBANDED.

349 Linden, N. J. E. H. Schram.

[_Members removed._]

494 Northfield, Vt. T. M. Hitt.

535 Chapel Hill, N. J. Miss Clara J. Martin.

371 Granville, O. Miss Ida M. Sanders.

83 St. Louis (A) Maud M. Love.

[_Members removed._]

190 Duncannon, Pa. Miss Annie I. Jackson.

Address all communications for this Department to

MR. HARLAN H. BALLARD, Lenox, Mass.

THE RIDDLE-BOX.

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JUNE NUMBER.

HALF-SQUARE 1. Canada. 2. Arena. 3. Neat. 4. Ant. 5, Da(w). 6. A.

RHOMBOID Across: 1. Sloop. 2. Organ. 3. Ergot. 4. Eerie. 5.

Sandy.----CROSS-WORD ENIGMA, Blossom.

ST. ANDREW'S CROSS OF DIAMONDS. I. 1. P. 2. Fur. 3. Fares. 4. Puritan. 5.

Retip. 6. Sap. 7. N. II. 1. N. 2. Fen. 3. Fagin. 4. Negroes. 5. Niobe. 6.

Nee. 7. S. III. 1. N. 2. Pen. 3. Puman. 4. Nemesis. 5. Nasal. 6. Nil. 7. S.

IV. 1. N. 2. Ben. 3. Baton. 4. Nettles. 5. Nolle. 6. Nee. 7. S. V. 1. S. 2.

Let. 3. Livid. 4. Several. 5. Tired. 6. Dad. 7. L.

"DIAMOND" PUZZLE. Across: 1. S. 2. Ape. 3. Bream. 4. Car. 5. R. Downward:

1. B. 2. Arc. 3. Spear. 4. Ear. 5. M.

BURIED CITIES. 1. Berne. 2. Basle. 3. Bergen. 4. Quito. 5. Herat. 6.

Mandalay. 7. Venice. 8. Bremen.

A BERRY PUZZLE. 1. Dogberry. 2. Checkerberry. 3. Strawberry. 4. Shadberry.

5. Barberry. 6. Raspberry. 7. Partridgeberry. 8. Snowberry. 9.

Thimbleberry. 10. Gooseberry. n. Elderberry. 12. Bayberry.

DIAMOND. 1. S. 2. Lea. 3. Larva. 4. Serpent. 5. Avert. 6. Ant. 7. T.

DOUBLE ACROSTICS. Primals, Thomas; finals, Arnold. Crosswords: 1. ThaliA.

2. HorroR. 3. OberoN. 4. MikadO. 5. AstraL. 6. SinbaD.

P1 In June 'tis good to lie beneath a tree

While the blithe season comforts every sense,

Steeps all the brain in rest, and heals the heart,

Brimming it o'er with sweetness unawares.

Fragrant and silent as that rosy snow

Wherewith the pitying apple-tree fills up

And tenderly lines some last year robin's nest.

_James Russell Lowell._

BEHEADINGS. Trinity. 1. T--ape. 2. R--asp. 3. I--con. 4. N--ail. 5. I--man.

6. T--ide. 7. V--end.

DOUBLE DIAGONALS. From 1 to 2, chaffinch; from 3 to 4, goldfinch.

Crosswords: 1. Corroding. 2. Childhood. 3. Gradually. 4. Confident. 5.

Chafferer. 6. Exhibited. 7. Penitence. 8. Acoustics. 9.

Hair-cloth.----CHARADE. Jack-stones.

METAMORPHOSES. 1. Ape; ale, all, ail, aim, rim, ram, ran, man. 2. Oars;

bars, bard, card, cord, cold, colt, coat, boat. 3. Lead; bead, beat, belt,

bolt, bold, gold. 4. Warm; harm, hard, card, cord, cold. 5. One; owe, awe,

aye, dye, doe, toe, too, two. 6. Age; aye, dye, die, hie, his, has, gas.

TO OUR PUZZLERS: In sending answers to puzzles, sign only your initials or

use a short assumed name; but if you send a complete list of answers you

may sign your full name. Answers should be addressed to ST. NICHOLAS

"Riddle-box," Care of THE CENTURY CO., 33 East Seventeenth Street, New York

City.

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE APRIL NUMBER were received, too late for

acknowledgment in the June number, from Esther Reid, East Melbourne,

Australia, I--R. F. Graham, London, England, 1.

ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE APRIL NUMBER were received, before April

20, from "B. L. Z. Bub, No. 1,"--Paul Reese--Emma St. C. Whitney--"The

McG's"--May and Julia--Ed, Beth, and Charlie--Maggie T. Turrill--Arthur and

Bertie Knox--N. B. Oakford--M. G. Jackson--"Cricket and Cripsy"--Elisabeth,

Richard, and Ruth--Pough--etc.--Dorothea E. Kennade--Josie and

Lillie--Blanche and Fred--"B. L. Z. Bub, No. 2"--"The Spencers"--C. and S.

Andrews--The Stewart Browns--"May and 79 "--Effie K. Talboys--Delia, Lou,

Ida, and Lillie--"San Anselmo Valley"--Madge and the Domimie--Edith

McDonald--Maud E. Palmer--Mary Ludlow--Mamma and Jokie--"Clifford and

Coco"--Francesco and Co.--Mamma and the Girls--Shumway Hen and

Chickens--"Theo.Ther"--Alice--M. E. d'A.--Blithedale--"Betsy

Trotwood"--Belle and Bertha Murdock--Judith--Randolph and Robert--"Miss M.

and the Gals"--W. R. M.--Nellie and Reggie--Fannie and Louise

Lockett--Bertha H.--"R. U. Pert"--Francis W. Islip--X. and Y.--Alice and

Lizzie Pendleton--Frying-pan--Hallie Couch--S. and B. Rhodes and de

Grassy--Savoir et Sagesse--X. Y. Z. and Ulysses--B. Z. O.--Carrie Seaver

and Alice Young--Dash.

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE APRIL NUMBER were received, before April 20, from

Foster and Remer, 2--Clark Holbrook, 3--"Triangle," 4--J. M. Moore,

1--Eleanor B. Ripley, 6--E. M. Benedict, 1--"Block and Chip," 9--H. E.

Hanbold, 2--A. G. Tomay, 2--E. O. Brownell, 2--Geo. S. Seymour and Co.,

9--N. Beall, 2--Philip and Mamma, 4--N. L. Peacock, 1--"Yum Yum," 2--E.

Parks, 1--F. A. and H. C. Hart, 2--Alice and R. G., 1--Maud S., 1--"Egg,"

1--B., H., M., M., and A. Read, 1--Bub and Bubess, 1--"Infant," 1--Pepper

and Maria, 9--A. Ransom and W. Chase, 1--A. H. Sibley, 1--Ned L. Mitchell,

4--Eddie B., 1--"Lone Star," 7--A. F. S., 1--G. E. C. and E. B. F., 5--M.

Kershey and S. Sweet, 9--G. E. Campbell, 3--G. F. Cameron, 2--B. Sudduth,

2--Kendrick Bros., 9--R. B. C., 2--E. and K. Mitchell, 3--L. D. Shropshire,

1--"J. McDuffe," 1--"Doane-utsand Rice," 1--"Phlimpy," 2 --D. Thomas and

Auntie, 2--"Snags," 2--F. Althaus, 4--Daisy Condell, 3--Me and Be, 2--N. E.

Miner, 4--Geo. Hawley, 5--A. B. Smith, 2--R. K. Allison, 1--M. Flurscheim,

1--Mrs. Emma Sloat, 3--Millie Atkinson, 1--H. Frost, 1--B. C. Ketchum.

1--Billy and Me, 7--S. R. Manning, 1--Mamma and Belp, 1--Rose H. Wedin,

1--Mary and Jennie Butler, 4--No name, Fredericksburgh, 4--"Dixie," 2--M.

S. Bird, 1--R. L. Foering, 1--F. Jarman, 3--E. F. and F. E. Bliss, i--L.

and C. Kendrickson, 2--Tessie Gutman, 7--A. D. C., 2--Joe and Billy, i--L.

Wainman, 2--"Yum Yum," 1--N. L. Howes, 2--"B. Rabbit and T. Baby," 4--H. S.

Chalmers, 1--"Pen and Ink-bottle," 1--Maginnis, 1--J. R. F. S.,

1--Christine and Cousin, 5--I. M. Lebermann, 6--Albert and Gussie, 1--C. J.

Tully, 2--Laura W. and Alice M., 2--Grace E. Keech, 6--Agnes Converse,

4--"Head-lights," 1--C. Gallup, 1--C. W. Chadwick, 2--Prof. P. H. Janney,

1--E. E. Hudson, 1--"Dixie and Pixie," 1--"Mr. Pickwick," and "Sam Weller,"

8--M. F. Davenport, 1--"89 and Chestnuts," 1--J. A Keeler, 6--Edith, Grace,

and Jessie, 2--Bessie Jackson, 4--H. N. and Nickie Bros., 2--J. M. B., G.

S., and A. Louise W., 8--K. L. Reeder, 1--Mamie R., 9--Walter La Bar, 8--H.

C. Barnes, 1--Jennie Judge, 3--E. H. Seward, 3--"The Lloyds," 8--A.

Wister, 2--Fred T. Pierce, 6--Lucia C. Bradley, 8--Puzzle Club, 9--Alina

and Estelle, 1--Pearl Colby and Nell Betts, 7--Eleanor and Maude Peart,

7--S. B. S. Bissell, 4--Estelle and Edith, 1--F. J. and Flip, 2--"Mohawk

Valley," 8--H. Allen, Jr., 1--R. Lloyd, 5--Mamma and Fanny, 9--Mrs. E. and

Grace E., 5--L. Delano and M. Wilson, 8--I. and E. Swanwick, 5--Anonymous,

4--Herbert Wolfe, 9--Lulu May, 7--No name, 7--"Koko and Pitti-sing,"

1--Sallie Viles, 9--Tessie and Henri, 3--Murray and Percy, 9--S. L. Meeks,

6--Marjorie Daw, 1--C. and H. Condit, 8--"Peggotty," 7--Katie, 1--Edith

Young, 3--Two Cousins, 9--Eva Hamilton, 9--Chip and Block, 2.

[Illustration]

NUMERICAL ENIGMA.

I am composed of ninety-three letters, and am a famous toast given at

Norfolk by a distinguished naval officer who was killed in a duel in 1820.

My 89-41-8-49 is a preposition. My 22-73-33 is belonging to us. My

53-15-46-65-29-85 is a specter. My 57-70-1-10 is a float. My 25-59-3 is a

term used in addressing a gentleman. My 13-76-48-19 is stockings. My

68-83-26 is to fasten. My 75-5-81 is bashful. My 62-91-6-80 is a division

of time. My 69-23-44-55 is restless. My 27-35-37-18-50-90 is the name of a

season. My 67-63-92-88-47 is the Christian name of a famous American poet.

My 31-28-20-58 is a conflagration. My 30-72-82-24-32-64 is intense dread.

My 4-51-17-12-42-60 is a military engine. My 9-34-93-16-45-14-78-86 is a

body of men commanded by a colonel. My 40-2-74-38-21-87-54-71-56 are

renegades. My 36-39-61-79-52-11-7-66 84-77-43 is a machine-gun that can

fire two hundred shots a minute.

CUBE.

1 . . . . 2

. . . . .

. . . .

3 . . . . 4 .

. . . .

. 5 . . . . 6

. . . .

. . . .

7 . . . . 8

From 1 to 2, a parent; from 2 to 6, tranquillity; from 5 to 6, a

useful instrument; from 1 to 5, a feminine name; from 3 to 4, consuming;

from 4 to 8, voracious; from 7 to 8, actively; from 3 to 7,

the flag which distinguishes a company of soldiers; from 1 to 3, a

very small fragment; from 2 to 4, resounded; from 6 to 8, not difficult;

from 5 to 7, part of the day. DAVID. H. D.

CHARADE.

My _first_ is that happy position

The holders of stock love to see;

'T is the point above which the aspiring

Are evermore hoping to be.

My _second_ made haste for the doctor;

His mother was ailing, he heard;

And that mother ever had taught him

To revere and be kind to my _third_.

Then he went to my _whole_ and requested

Its master his mother would see,

For he knew that my _first_ and my _second_

To his mother most welcome would be.

W. H. A.

ANAGRAMS.

The letters of each of the following anagrams may be transposed so as to

spell the name of a well-known novel.

1. Nod, quiet ox. 2. Wilt sit over? 3. Visiting near H. 4. Earning my gun.

5. Lord Poicy is south. 6. But no nice clams. 7. I hem when I want to. 8.

Is it of papa's homely Ted? 9. If we have lifted a cork. 10. We quit Dr.,

and run. E. L. G. M.

METAMORPHOSES.

The problem is to change one given word to another given word, by altering

one letter at a time, each alteration making a new word, the number of

letters being always the same, and the letters remaining always in the same

order. Sometimes the metamorphoses may be made in as many moves as there

are letters in each given word, but in other instances more moves are

required.

EXAMPLE: Change LAMP to FIRE in four moves. Answer, LAMP, LAME, FAME, FARE,

FIRE.

1. Change COW to RAT in three moves. 2. Change HARD to SOFT in six moves.

3. Change LEFT to EAST in four moves. 4. Change HIT to LOW in four moves.

5. Change LONG to WEST in five moves.

"D. I. VERSITY."

RHOMBOIDS.

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

I. ACROSS: 1. Poison. 2. An ancient philosopher memorable for his

friendship with Pythias. 3. Large bundles. 4. A substance obtained from

certain trees. 5. A strip of leather.

DOWNWARD: 1. In prove. 2. A nickname. 3. To seize by a sudden grasp. 4. A

famous mosque. 5. Certain burrowing animals. 6. A cosy place. 7. A title of

respect. 8. A word of denial. 9. In prove.

II. ACROSS: 1. A very wealthy man. 2. A bricklayer. 3. Inhabitants of a

certain European country. 4. To send back. 5. A benefactor.

DOWNWARD: 1. In Rhine. 2. A verb. 3. Vicious. 4. A low ridge of stone or

gravel. 5. Freed from osseous substance. 6. The name of a captain in one of

Jules Verne's stories. 7. Iniquity. 8. A preposition. 9. In Rhine.

NORA L. WINSLOW.

PI.

Nilgang yam eb dais ot eb os kile eth hatemcatsim atth ti nac veern eb

fylul ratlen.

ZIGZAG.

Each of the words described contains the same number of letters, and the

zigzag, beginning at the upper left-hand letter, will spell a day famous in

history.

1. A creeping vine. 2. A common insect. 3. A cover. 4. Nourished. 5.

Placed. 6. A boy's nickname. 7. A kitchen utensil. 8. To augment. 9. An

extremity. 10. A conjunction. 11. A fabulous bird. 12. Conducted. 13. To

delve. 14. A month. 15. A song.

HENRY C. ROBERTS.

HOUR-GLASS.

1 . . . * . . . 3

. . . * . . .

. . * . .

. * .

*

. * .

. . * . .

. . . * . . .

4 . . . * . . . 2

ACROSS: 1. Unmarried women. 2. With quick beating or palpitation. 3. A

musical term meaning "slowly." 4. A gentle blow. 5. In water. 6. An

exclamation. 7. A marked feature. 8. A French coin. 9. More comely.

The central letters spell articles much worn during the summer. The letters

from 1 to 2 name the delight of invalids during the summer months; from 3

to 4, an instrument used for timing races.

"L. LOS REGNL"

Transcriber's Note: All apparent printer's errors retained. Formatting transcribed as close as possible to original book.

End of Project Gutenberg's St. Nicholas v. 13 No. 9 July 1886, by Various