miles from Aberdeen.
He set out on a pony in good time, but when near the end of his journey
he felt a desire to take a pinch of snuff. The wind, however, blowing in
his face, he turned the head of the pony round, the better to enjoy the
luxury. Pocketing his snuff-box, he started the pony without again
turning it in the proper direction, and did not discover his error until
he found himself in Union Street, Aberdeen, at the very time he ought to
have entered the pulpit seven miles off.
On another occasion he was invited to dinner at the house of a friend,
and was shown into a bedroom to wash his hands.
After a long delay, as he did not appear, his friend went to the room,
and, behold! there lay the professor snugly in bed, and fast asleep!
=Prof. Aytoun's Courtship=
After Prof. Aytoun had made proposals of marriage to Miss Emily Jane
Wilson, daughter of "Christopher North," he was, as a matter of course,
referred to her father. As Aytoun was uncommonly diffident, he said to
her, "Emily, my dear, you must speak to him for me. I could not summon
courage to speak to the professor on this subject."
"Papa is in the library," said the lady.
"Then you had better go to him," said the suitor, "and I'll wait here
for you."
There being apparently no help for it, the lady proceeded to the
library, and taking her father affectionately by the hand, mentioned
that Aytoun had asked her in marriage. She added, "Shall I accept this
offer, papa; he is so shy and diffident, that he cannot speak to you
himself."
"Then we must deal tenderly with him," said the hearty old man. "I'll
write my reply on a slip of paper, and pin it on your back."
"Papa's answer is on the back of my dress," said Miss Wilson, as she
re-entered the drawing-room.
Turning round, the delighted swain read these words: "With the author's
compliments."
=A Sad Drinking Bout=
The following story of an occurrence at one of the drinking bouts in
Scotland, at which the Laird of Garscadden took his last draught, has
often been told, but it will bear repetition. The scene occurred in the
wee clachan of Law, where a considerable number of Kilpatrick lairds had
congregated for the ostensible purpose of talking over some parish
business. And well they talked and better drank, when one of them, about
the dawn of the morning, fixing his eye on Garscadden, remarked that he
was "looking unco' gash."
Upon which the Laird of Kilmardinny coolly replied, "Deil mean him,
since he has been wi' his Maker these twa hours! I saw him step awa',
but I dinna like to disturb guid company!"
The following epitaph on this celebrated Bacchanalian plainly indicates
that he was held in no great estimation among his neighbors:
"Beneath this stane lies auld Garscad,
Wha lived a neighbor very bad;
Now, how he finds and how he fares,
The deil ane kens, and deil ane cares."
=Not Surprised=
Benjamin Greig, one of the last specimens of tie-wig and powder gentry,
and a rich old curmudgeon to boot, one day entered the shop of Mr.
Walker--better known, however, by the nickname of "Sugar Jock"--and
accosting him, said, "Are you no' muckle astonished to hear that Mr.
L---- has left £20,000?"
"Weel, Mr. Greig," replied "Sugar," "I wad hae been mair astonished to
hear that he had ta'en it wi' him."
Greig gave a grunt and left the shop.
=The Best Crap=
A baby was out with its nurse, who walked it up and down a garden.
"Is't a laddie or a lassie, Jess?" asked the gardener.
"A laddie," said the maid.
"Weel," said he, "I'm glad o' that; there's ower mony lasses in the
world already."
"Hech, man," said Jess, "div ye no ken there's aye maist sawn o' the
best crap?"
=A Marriage "Not Made in Heaven"=
Watty Marshall was a simple, useless, good-for-nothing body, who somehow
or other got married to a terrible shrew of a wife. Finding out that she
had made a bad bargain, she resolved to have the best of it, and
accordingly abused and thrashed her luckless spouse to such an extent
that he, in despair, went to the minister to get unmarried.
The parson told him that he could do him no such service as marriages
were made in heaven.
"Made in heaven, sir," cried Watty; "it's a lee! I was marriet i' your
ain kitchen, wi' your twa servant hizzies looking on! I doubt ye hae
made an awfu' mistake wi' my marriage, sir, for the muckle fire that was
bleezing at the time made it look far mair like the other place! What a
life I'll hae to lead, baith in this world and the next, for that
blunder o' yours, minister!"
="Another Opportunity"=
An old gentleman named Scott was engaged in the "affair of the '15" (the
Rebellion of 1715) and with some difficulty was saved from the gallows
by the intercession by the Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth. Her grace,
who maintained considerable authority over her clan, sent for the object
of her intercession and, warning him of the risk which he had run and
the trouble she had taken on his account, wound up her lecture by
intimating that, in case of such disloyalty again, he was not to expect
her interest in his favor.
"An' it please your grace," said the stout old Tory, "I fear I am too
old to see another opportunity."
=A Night in a Coal-cellar=
One night, sitting later than usual, sunk in the profundities of a great
folio tome, the Rev. Dr. Wightman of Kirkmahol imagined he heard a sound
in the kitchen inconsistent with the quietude and security of a manse,
and so taking his candle he proceeded to investigate the cause. His foot
being heard in the lobby, the housekeeper began with all earnestness to
cover the fire, as if preparing for bed.
"Ye're late up to-night, Mary."
"I'm jist rakin' the fire, sir, and gaun to bed."
"That's right, Mary; I like timeous hours."
On his way back to the study he passed the coal-closet, and, turning the
key, took it with him. Next morning, at an early hour, there was a rap
at his bedroom door, and a request for the key to put a fire on.
"Ye're too soon up, Mary; go back to your bed yet."
Half an hour later there was another knock, and a similar request in
order to prepare the breakfast.
"I don't want breakfast so soon, Mary; go back to your bed."
Another half an hour and another knock with an entreaty for the key, as
it was washing day. This was enough. He rose and handed out the key
saying, "go and let the man out."
Mary's sweetheart had been imprisoned all night in the coal-closet, as
the minister shrewdly suspected, and, Pyramis-and-Thisbe-like, they had
breathed their love to each other through the key-hole. [25]
=Not Quite an Ass=
James Boswell, the biographer of Dr. Johnson, was distinguished in his
private life by his humor and power of repartee. He has been described
as a man in whose face it was impossible at any time to look without
being inclined to laugh. The following is one of his good things: As he
was pleading one day at the Scotch bar before his father, Lord
Auchinleck, who was at that time what is called Ordinary on the Bills
(judge of cases in the first stage), the testy old senator, offended at
something his son said, peevishly exclaimed: "Jamie, ye're an ass, man."
"Not exactly, my lord," answered the junior; "only a colt, the foal of
an ass."
=A Cute Gaoler=
Before the adoption of the police act in Airdrie, a worthy named Geordie
G---- had the surveillance of the town. A drunken, noisy Irishman was
lodged in a cell, who caused an "awful row" by kicking at the cell-door
with his heavy boots. Geordie went to the cell, and opening the door a
little, said:
"Man, ye micht put aff yer buits, and I'll gie them a bit rub, so that
ye'll be respectable like afore the bailie in the mornin'."
The prisoner complied with his request, and saw his mistake only when
the door was closed upon him, Geordie crying out:
"Ye can kick as lang as ye like, noo."
=Not Qualified to Baptize=
The only amusement in which Ralph Erskine, the father of the Scottish
Secession, indulged, was playing the violin. He was so great a
proficient on this instrument, and so often beguiled his leisure hours
with it, that the people of Dumfermline believed he composed his sermons
to its tones, as a poet writes a song to a particular air. They also
tell the following anecdote connected with the subject:
A poor man in one of the neighboring parishes, having a child to
baptize, resolved not to employ his own clergyman, with whom he was at
issue on certain points of doctrine, but to have the office performed by
some minister of whose tenets fame gave a better report.
With the child in his arms, therefore, and attended by the full
complement of old and young women who usually minister on such
occasions, he proceeded to the manse of ----, some miles off (not that
of Mr. Erskine), where he inquired if the clergyman was at home.
"Na; he's no' at hame yeenoo," answered the servant lass; "he's down the
burn fishing; but I can soon cry him in."
"Ye needna gie yoursel' the trouble," replied the man, quite shocked at
this account of the minister's habits; "nane o' your fishin' ministers
shall bapteeze my bairn."
Off he then trudged, followed by his whole train, to the residence of
another parochial clergyman, at the distance of some miles. Here, on
inquiring if the minister was at home, the lass answered:
"'Deed he's no' at home the day, he's been out since sax i' the morning
at the shooting. Ye needna wait, neither; for he'll be sae made out when
he comes back, that he'll no' be able to say bo to a calf, let-a-be
kirsen a wean!"
"Wait, lassie!" cried the man in a tone of indignant scorn; "wad I wait,
d'ye think, to haud up my bairn before a minister that gangs oot at six
i' the morning to shoot God's creatures? I'll awa down to gude Mr.
Erskine at Dumfermline; and he'll be neither out at the fishing nor
shooting, I think."
The whole baptismal train then set off for Dumfermline, sure that the
Father of the Secession, although not now a placed minister, would at
least be engaged in no unclerical sports, to incapacitate him for
performing the sacred ordinance in question.
On their arriving, however, at the house of the clergyman, which they
did not do until late in the evening, the man, on rapping at the door,
anticipated that he would not be at home any more than his brethren, as
he heard the strains of a fiddle proceeding from the upper chamber. "The
minister will not be at home," he said, with a sly smile to the girl who
came to the door, "or your lad wadna be playing that gait t'ye on the
fiddle."
"The minister _is_ at hame," quoth the girl; "mair by token, it's
himsel' that's playing, honest man; he aye takes a tune at night, before
he gangs to bed. Faith, there's nae lad o' mine can play that gait; it
wad be something to tell if ony o' them could."
"_That_ the minister playing!" cried the man in a degree of astonishment
and horror far transcending what he had expressed on either of the
former occasions. "If _he_ does this, what may the rest no' do? Weel, I
fairly gie them up a'thegither. I have traveled this haill day in search
o' a godly minister, and never man met wi' mair disappointment in a
day's journey." "I'll tell ye what, gudewife," he added, turning to the
disconsolate party behind, "we'll just awa' back to our ain minister
after a'. He's no' a'thegither sound, it's true; but let him be what he
likes in doctrine, deil hae me if ever I kenk him fish, shoot, or play
on the fiddle a' his days!"
=One Scotchman Outwitted by Another=
Some years since, before the sale of game was legalized, and a present
of it was thought worth the expense of carriage, an Englishman who had
rented a moor within twenty miles of Aberdeen, wishing to send a ten
brace box of grouse to his friends in the south, directed his gilly to
procure a person to take the box to the capital of the north, from
whence the London steamer sailed. Not one, however, of the miserably
poor tenants in the neighborhood could be found who would take the box
for a less sum than eight shillings. This demand was thought so
unreasonable, that the Englishman complained to a Scotch friend who was
shooting along with him.
The Scotchman replied that "the natives always make a point of imposing
as much as possible upon strangers; but," he said "if you will leave it
to me, I will manage it for you; for with all their knavery, they are
the simplest people under the sun."
A few days afterwards, going out shooting, they saw a man loading his
cart with peats, when the Scotchman, approaching him, said, after the
usual salutation--"What are you going to do with the peats?"
"I'm going to Aberdeen to sell them," was the reply.
"What do you get for them?"
"One shilling and eightpence, sir."
"Indeed! Well, I will buy them, if you will be sure to deliver them for
me at Aberdeen."
"That I will, and thank you, too, sir."
All agreed, the Scotchman resumed his walk for about twenty yards, when
he suddenly turned round and said: "By-the-by, I have a small box I want
taken to the same place. You can place it on the top of the peats?"
"That I will, and welcome, sir."
"Well, if you will call at the lodge in the evening, I will give you the
direction for the peats, and you can have the box at the same time."
He did so, and actually carried the box, and gave a load of peats for
one shilling and eightpence, although neither the same man nor any of
his neighbors would forward the box _alone_ for less than eight
shillings.
=Quaint Old Edinburgh Ministers=
There was wee Scotty, o' the Coogate Kirk; and a famous preacher he was
at the height o' his popularity. But he was sadly bathered wi' his
flock, for they kept him aye in het water.
Ae day he was preaching on Job. "My brethren," says he, "Job, in the
first place, was a sairly-tried man; Job, in the second place, was an
uncommonly patient man; Job, in the third place, never preached in the
Coogate; fourthly and lastly, had Job preached _there_, the Lord help
his patience."
* * * * *
At anither time, before the service began, when there was a great noise
o' folk gaun into their seats, he got up in the pu'pit an' cried
out--"Oh, that I could hear the pence rattle in the plate at the door
wi' half the noise ye mak' wi' yer cheepin' shoon! Oh, that Paul had
been here wi' a long wudden ladle! for yer coppers are strangers in a
far country, an' as for yer silver an' gold--let us pray!"
* * * * *
An' there was Deddy Weston, wha began ane o' his Sunday morning services
in this manner: "My brethren, I'll divide my discourse the day into
three heads: _Firstly_, I'll tell ye something that I ken, an' you dinna
ken. _Secondly_, I'll tell ye something that you ken, an' I dinna ken.
_Thirdly_, I'll tell ye something that neither you nor me ken.
_Firstly_, Coming ower a stile this mornin', my breeks got an unco'
skreed. That's something that I ken, an' you dinna ken. _Secondly_, What
you're gaun to gie Charlie Waddie, the tailor, for mendin' my breeks, is
what you ken, an' I dinna ken. _Thirdly_, What Charlie Waddie's to tak'
for mendin' my breeks, is what neither you nor me ken. _Finally and
lastly_, Hand round the ladle."
* * * * *
An' there was Doctor Dabster, that could pit a bottle or twa under his
belt, an' was neither up nor down. But an unco' bitter body was he when
there was a sma' collection. Before the service began, the beadle
generally handed him a slip of paper stating the amount collected. Ae
day a' the siller gathered was only twa' shillin's an' ninepence; an' he
could never get this out o' his head through the whole of his sermon.
He was aye spunkin oot noo an' then. "It's the land o' Canawn ye're
thrang strivin' after," says he; "The land o' Canawn, eh?--twa an'
ninepence! yes, ye're sure to gang there! I think I see ye! Nae doot
ye'll think yersel's on the richt road for't. Ask yer consciences, an'
see what they'll say. Ask them, an' see what they'll say. Ask them, an'
what _will_ they say? I'll tell ye: 'Twa miserable shillin's an'
ninepence is puir passage-money for sic a lang journey!' What?
Twa-an'-ninepence! As weel micht a coo gang up a tree tail foremost, an'
whistle like a superannuated mavis, as get to Canawn for that!" [26]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Said by Burns, at the request of the Earl of Selkirk.
Glossary
=Aa. I.=
_Aboon._ Above.
_Ae._ One.
_Aff._ Off.
_Afit._ Afoot.
_Aiblins._ Perhaps, possibly.
_Ain._ Own.
_Ane._ One.
_A'thegither._ Altogether.
_Auchteenpence._ Eighteenpence.
_Aught._ Eight.
_Auld._ Old.
_Ava._ At all.
_Awn._ Own.
_Aye._ Always.
=Babble-ment. Confusion.=
_Bairns._ Children.
_Baith._ Both.
_Bane._ Bone.
_Bauld._ Bold.
_Bawbee._ A half-penny.
_Begond._ Began.
_Belyve._ Immediately, quickly.
_Ben._ Towards; towards the inner; the inner room of a house.
_Blate, blait._ Bashful.
_Blinkit._ Flashed, glanced.
_Birkies._ Lively young fellows.
_Blude._ Blood.
_Bobshanks._ Knees.
_Braes._ The sides of hills.
_Braik._ Break.
_Braw._ Fine, gay, worthy, handsome.
_Bree._ Soup, sauce, juice.
_Brig._ Bridge.
_Brocht._ Brought.
_Brose._ A kind of pottage made by pouring hot water on oatmeal, and
stirring while the water is poured.
_Bucky._ Hind quarters (of a hare).
_Buits._ Boots.
_Buss._ Kiss.
=Canny. Cautious, Prudent.=
_Cantrip._ Charm, spell, trick.
_Carle, carl._ A man, as distinguished from a boy.
_Carline._ An old woman.
_Cauld._ Cold.
_Caup._ Cup, wooden bowl.
_Chapping._ Striking.
_Chau'ders._ Denoting large quantities.
_Cheekit._ Entrapped.
_Chiel._ A stripling, a fellow, a servant.
_Chwat._ What.
_Clachan._ Clan.
_Claes._ Clothes.
_Clan._ Tribe.
_Con'le-licht._ Candle-light.
_Coo._ Cow.
_Cuddy._ Donkey.
_Crackit._ Cracked.
_Crand._ Grand.
_Craw._ Crow.
_Crouse._ Boldly, lively, brisk.
_Custrin._ Silly.
_Cutties._ Short spoons.
=Dae. Do.=
_Daft._ Foolish, gay, giddy, wanton.
_Daunder._ To wander.
_Deavin'._ Deafening.
_Dee._ Die.
_Deil._ Devil.
_Ding._ To beat.
_Dinna._ Do not.
_Dittha._ Do they.
_Dochter._ Daughter.
_Douce._ Sedate, sober.
_Doit._ Numskull.
_Doup._ The breech, the bottom or extremity of anything.
_Dour._ Bold, inflexible, obstinate, stern.
_Drap._ A drop; to drop.
_Drookit._ Soaked.
_Droon't._ Drowned.
_Dub-shouper._ Gutter-cleaner.
_Durdham._ Squabble.
=E'e. Eye.=
_E'en._ Eyes; even.
_Eer._ Air.
_Eneuch._ Enough.
_E'enow._ Even now.
_Extrornar._ Extraordinary.
=Faa'. Fall.=
_Fack._ Fact
_Far eist?_ Where is it?
_Far was't?_ Where was it?
_Fash._ Trouble.
_Fat?_ What?
_Faud._ Found.
_Faut._ Fault.
_Fecht._ Fight.
_Feck._ A term denoting space, quantity, number; _the feck o' them_
means "the most part of them."
_Feckled._ Made weak.
_Feine._ Fine.
_Ferry._ Very.
_Fifish._ Somewhat deranged.
_Fleg, fley._ To frighten.
_Flit, flyt._ To change, to remove, to transport. Commonly used of
changing one's residence.
_Fluir._ Floor.
_Flyte, Flytings._ To scold, scolding.
_Fog._ Moss.
_Forebears._ Ancestors.
_Forrit._ Forward.
_Fortnicht._ Fortnight.
_Foo'._ A fool, through being drunk.
_Fou, fu'._ Drunk, full.
_Fouk._ Folk.
_Freens._ Friends, relatives.
_Fremit._ Strange.
_Fules._ Fools.
_Fund._ Found.
=Gaed. Went.=
_Gait._ Way.
_Gang._ Go.
_Gars._ Causes, makes.
_Gash._ Ghastly.
_Gav'd._ Made, induced.
_Gey, gay._ Moderately.
_Gied._ Gave.
_Gin._ If.
_Glint._ Sight, glimpse.
_Gowd, goud._ Gold.
_Gowk, golk._ Cuckoo, fool.
_Greetin', greitin._ Crying, the act of.
_Grit._ Great.
_Grond._ Grand.
_Grup._ Grip.
_Gude, guid._ Good.
_Gully._ A large knife.
=Hae. Have.=
_Haggis._ A pudding, made in a sheep's stomach, with oatmeal, suet, the
heart, liver and lungs of the sheep, minced down and seasoned with salt,
pepper, and onions, and boiled for use.
_Haist._ Haste.
_Hale._ Whole.
_Haudin'._ Holding, keeping.
_Haveril._ One who talks habitually in a foolish manner.
_Heck, hech, high._ To pant, to breathe hard; an exclamation which
expresses a condition of breathlessness.
_Heid._ Head.
_Hemmel._ A cow without horns.
_Het._ Hot.
_Hielans._ Highlands.
_Hirple._ To move in a halting manner, as if crippled or momentarily
injured, as by a blow.
_Hoo._ How.
_Hunner._ Hundred.
_Hurdham._ Squabble.
_Hustrin._ Lascivious.
=Ilka, ilk. Every, each.=
_Intil, intill._ In, into.
_Intil't._ Into it.
=Jalouse. Expect, guess.=
_Jaud._ Jade.
=Keeking, keiking. Looking= with a prying eye, peeping.
_Kame, kaim._ To comb, comb, honeycomb.
_Ken._ To know; to be acquainted; to understand.
_Kintra._ Country.
_Kirk._ Church.
_Kirsen._ To christen.
=Laird. A man of superior= rank; the owner of a property.
_Lang._ Long, to long or yearn.
_Langsyne._ Long since.
_Lawin'._ A tavern bill.
_Leear._ Liar.
_Lees._ Lies.
_Leeve._ Live.
_Leeving._ Living.
_Lippened._ Trusted, depended.
_Li-thall._ Lethal, deadly, mortal.
_Loon._ Clown, fool.
_Lugs._ Ears.
_Lum, lumb._ Chimney.
_Louring drouth._ Thirst.
=Mair. More.=
_Mairret._ Married.
_Maun._ Must.
_Meikle._ See "Muckle."
_Micht._ Might.
_Misca'._ Miscall.
_Modiwarts, modywarts, moudicworts._ Moles.
_Mon._ See "Maun."
_Muckle._ Much, great.
_Mune._ Moon.
=Nit. Nut.=
_Noo._ Now.
=Ocht. Ought.=
_Oot._ Out.
=Parritch. Porridge.=
_Pawkily, paukily._ Slily, artfully.
_Pawpish._ Popish.
_Poother._ Powder.
_Pow._ The head; a slow rivulet--one moving on lands nearly flat.
_Provost._ The mayor of a burgh or township.
_Puir._ Poor.
=Rale. Real.=
_Reekit._ Smoked.
_Reestit._ Smoke-dried.
_Richt._ Right.
_Rippet._ A difference of opinion such as to estrange; a quarrel.
=Sair. Sore.=
_Scart._ To scratch; to scrape money together; to scrape a dish with a
spoon.
_Sclate, sclait._ Slate.
_Scoonril._ Scoundrel.
_Sheltie._ A Shetland pony.
_Shoost._ Just.
_Sic._ Such.
_Sicht._ Sight.
_Siller._ Silver.
_Sink._ Think.
_Skalin'._ Dispersing, retiring, spilling.
_Skelpin'._ Clapping, applause.
_Skirl._ To cry shrilly, shriek.
_Sleekit._ Smooth, shining, oily.
_Sma'._ Small.
_Smiddy._ A smith's shop, smithy.
_Sneeshin'._ Sneezing.
_Sooming._ Swimming.
_Sorners_ Spongers, loiterers.
_Southrons._ Those who live in the south.
_Spier, speir._ To ask.
_Spigot._ Peg, vent-peg.
_Spune._ Spoon.
_Stane._ Stone.
_Strae._ Straw.
_Strathspeys._ A dance tune for two.
_Steekit._ Soon.
_Suppone._ Suppose.
_Syne._ Since.
=Tacket. A nail of a shoe.=
_Tae._ The toe.
_Taes._ Toes.
_Taigle._ Confound.
_Tauld._ Told.
_Thae._ Those (just referred to).
_Thocht, thoucht._ Thought.
_Thrang._ Busy, pressed, crowded, thronged.
_Tift._ Coolness, estrangement.
_Tint._ Lost.
_Toom._ Empty.
_Trow._ To believe.
_Twa._ Two.
=Unco'. Unknown, very, extra.=
=Wad. Would.=
_Wadna._ Would not.
_Wanse._ Once.
_Ware._ Trouble, fuss.
_Wast._ West.
_Wean (wee-ane)._ A child, little one.
_Wee._ Small, little, a short time.
_Weed._ Wild.
_Wersh._ Insipid to the taste.
_Wha._ Who.
_Whaur._ Where.
_Wheen._ A number, quantity, division.
_Whets._ What is, that which is.
_Whilk._ Which.
_Worilt._ World.
_Wot._ To know.
_Wowf._ Half-mad.
_Wud._ Would.
_Wull._ Will.
_Wunnering._ Wondering.
=Yestreen. Last night.=
_Yirth._ Earth.
Out of School Series
It is the intention of the publishers to include in this series only the
best copyright stories for boys and girls by well-known popular authors.
This idea has been kept in mind in making the selections, and we can
heartily recommend any or all of the stories.
=A Roman Maiden=
=By Emma Marshall, author of "Fanny and Her Friends," "Master
Martin," etc., etc. 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. $1.00.=
A quaint story of the fourth century which maids of the twentieth
century will thoroughly enjoy. Hyacintha is the daughter of one of the
most noble houses of Rome, and as such she is permitted to enter the
Temple of Vesta as a Vestal Virgin; the greatest honor possible to a
daughter of Rome. The charm and simplicity of life in the Temple of
Vesta are beautifully described, and a tender little love story gives to
the book the needed touch of romance.
=The Worst Boy in Town=
=By John Habberton, author of "Helen's Babies," "Phil Fuzzytop,"
etc., etc. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth. $1.00.=
What Tom Hughes did for the Rugby boy, Habberton has in this volume done
for the American village lad. The book is manly and valuable.--_New York
Herald._
The "worst boy" is simply a lad whose exuberant spirits are eternally
leading him into pranks. * * * A pleasant volume for the Boys'
Library.--_Detroit Free Press._
=A Little Turning Aside=