much telling--you can be sure of that."
Miss Prim did find out, but not without any telling. Pickle wisely
determined to forestall all investigations. She went privately to the
grieved Miss Prim, and announced herself as the culprit.
Although Miss Prim punished Pickle at the time for her disrespect, the
kind-hearted girl--for she was kind-hearted in spite of her love of
mischief--was much more severely punished by her own conscience when, a
few days later, she learned why Herr Mueller allowed his curly locks to
grow down over his shoulders.
A brave young soldier in the German army, he had, during the siege of
Metz, left the shelter of the trenches, and in the face of almost
certain death rushed across the open ground where shot, shell, and
bullets fell thick as hail, to snatch up and bring safely back in his
strong arms a little child. It was a blue-eyed four-year-old girl who,
terror-stricken and bewildered by the death of her parents and the awful
firing, had wandered from one of the crumbling houses outside the walls
of the city. When the soldiers in the trenches first saw her she was
standing irresolute but unharmed amid the storm of flying death that
swept across the plain.
Just as he reached the trenches with his precious burden the young
soldier was hurled to the ground badly wounded, and apparently dead. A
fragment of a bursting shell had struck him on the back of the neck.
Although he lived and finally recovered, a terrible and unsightly scar
remained, and was only hidden from sight by the thick curls that Pickle
had so despised.
The brave soldier had adopted the child he had saved, and it was to
provide means for her support that he now taught German in Miss Prim's
school.
You may be sure that after this the little Elsie and her adopted father
had no firmer friend nor warmer admirer than Pickle, who through them
had learned a lesson that she never forgot.
A GAME FOR A RAINY DAY.
While every hour of a pleasant day by the sea-side or in the country
provides its own amusements, on a rainy day young people are apt to find
that time hangs heavily on their hands. So it happened, one day last
month, that the girls staying at Sandy Beach Hotel visited Miss Walker
in her room, and begged her to suggest some new game for them.
After a moment's hesitation she said that she had thought of a game that
might be new to them, though she had played it when a child.
"I shall want one assistant," she said, "to whom the secret of the game
will be intrusted; the others will have to try to guess it. I shall
remain in the room with the rest of you, and my assistant will go out.
During her absence I shall place my hand on the shoulder of some girl,
or upon the piano, or on my own shoulder, and when she returns she shall
tell you who has been touched."
Nobody seemed to know anything about the game, so Miss Walker chose
Alice Milne as her assistant.
The girl went out of the room. Miss Walker laid her hand on the girl
nearest to her, who happened to be Clara Lane, and on Alice's return
asked, "On whom did my hand rest?"
Alice at once replied, "On Clara."
"Right," was the answer.
But the girls, thinking they had found out the game, said, "You touch
the girl nearest to you, Miss Walker."
"I certainly did on this occasion; but the position of the girl has
nothing to do with the secret."
"I think I know it, but I shall see," said Bertha, and several girls
expressed a similar opinion.
Again Alice went out. Miss Walker touched Nellie, and Alice, as promptly
as before, named the right person on her return to the room.
The girls were at fault, and again failed to discover any look or
gesture that could help them.
"You must have heard, Alice," said one.
"But Miss Walker did not speak."
"She placed her hand in a particular position."
"Alice may come in blindfolded if you like," said Miss Walker.
One of the girls went out with Alice, brought her in backward, so that
she might not see Miss Walker, held her hands, and did everything but
find out the secret.
At last they said: "We give it up, Miss Walker. Do tell us the secret."
"Well," said Miss Walker, "if you really can not guess it, I will tell
you. As a rule, I placed my hand on the shoulder of the girl who spoke
last before Alice quitted the room. But sometimes there were two or
three speakers, and in this case I touched my own shoulders. If no one
spoke, I touched the piano. Any article that may be agreed upon will do
equally well. With this simple understanding, and an intelligent
assistant, a mistake is almost impossible."
SEA-BREEZES.
LETTER No. 3 FROM BESSIE MAYNARD TO HER DOLL.
OLD ORCHARD BEACH, _August, 1880_.
Dear Child,--It is two weeks, I do declare, since I have written you one
word, and what a state you must be in all this time; for I remember
perfectly well how suddenly my letter closed, just at the very smilax of
that awful adventure. But really, Clytie, so many things have happened
since, and every minute is so full of pleasures or catastrophes, that,
as I look back, that one seems almost insignificant.
I suppose you are surprised at my using such large words; but here we
meet a great many "people of culture," as they are called, and they are
all very busy "improving their minds"; and you know Solomon says, "Never
do till to-morrow what you can put off to-day," so I am trying to
improve mine too, while I am under their confluence.
Papa bought me a little pocket dictionary, and I look out all sorts of
words in it, and that is how I get so many big ones that perhaps _you_
don't quite apprehend, but I must use them inasmuch.
Excuse me for scratching out inasmuch, I _should_ have said
nevertheless. When I am not quite sure of a word, I look it out, for I
always have my little dictionary close at hand, and that is a great
conveyance, you know. I am trying to get over my babyish way of talking,
or at least of writing, and hope I may exceed.
[Illustration: HOW WE LOOKED AFTER _IT_ HAPPENED.]
But to go back to my story: where was I? We were crossing over the board
to the island, weren't we? Well, Fan was going ahead, wheeling Jane in
her carriage, then Dora and Snip, and me on behind with Moppet in my
arms. Randolph stood in the water, and watched his chance till we were
all fairly on the board, and then he gave a regular Indian war-whoop,
and threw himself right across the middle of the board, and shook it
with all his might, so that it jiggled awfully right up and down. Before
we had time to scream or to paralize our danger, over we all went,
pell-mell, helter-skelter, higgledy-piggledy, down, down, down into the
foaming water! What do you think of that, Clytie? Every single one of
us--dogs, Jane, carriage, and all! 'Twas worse, a thousand-fole, than
when we lost Lucille. Fan sat right down on the pebbles at the bottom of
the sea, and gave herself up for lost. I threw Moppet as far as I could
on to the beach, while Dora screamed: "You hateful boy! Go at him, Snip!
bite him! throw him over! eat him up!" And Snip _did_ go at him, as if
he would "tear him limb from limb," as the story-books say.
Randolph looked scared out of his wits, and without waiting to help one
of us, he turned and ran as fast as he could go, and never stopped till
he was safe back at the hotel, the mean coward that he is! We heard
afterward how he ran into the house with such a roar as to frighten
every one there, crying out at the top of his lungs, "They've set the
dog on me, and he'll kill me!" Did you ever know such a horrid boy?
As for the rest of us, we scrambled out as best we could, by the help of
the other boys, for, to tell the truth--and you know, my Clytie, I
always do that, and never mean even to inangerrate when I am telling a
story--the water was not very deep where we fell, not more than half way
up to our knees, and we often go in wading there; but it _seems_ a good
deal deeper when you are dumped right down into it without any warning.
Now wasn't this a teragical end of our picnic on the island?
A few days later Mrs. Peyton and her party left Old Orchard. Where they
have gone I do not know, but we children believe they went away on
Randolph's account. We _tried_ to treat him politely, but how _could_
we? I don't think any one would blame us for turning our backs on him
whenever he appeared, and only saying good-morning to him in a lofty way
over our shoulders. He neverdently didn't like it, and proberly
_coaxed_ his mother to go away.
Whatever _other_ people can do, I am very sure _I_ shall never be able
to love my emernies. _Love_ Randolph Peyton! Just think of it, Clytie,
I'd be _ashamed_ to love such a mean boy even if I could, emerny or not.
I truly hope we may never see him again.
Such heaps and heaps of things as I shall have to tell you, dear
Clytemnestra, when I get home! No letter would ever be long enough to
get them all in. There will be enough to talk about all next winter.
You don't know anything about the clam-bake we had last week, nor how
Dora and I got lost one day in a cave--a real _boner fidy_ cave, as papa
says, dark and dreadful, where smugglers used to hide their things.
I'm saving up lots of things to tell you some day, and if your eyes
don't open wider than ever before, it will only be because something is
the matter with your wires. Such fun as I am having this summer! And,
oh, Clytie! what do you think? Mamma is busy packing the trunk, and we
are going away from here to-morrow. We are going with some other people
to Mount Desert, 'way round the coast of Maine, ever so much farther
than this.
It is lovely everywhere here, and I don't believe Maine is half so
crooked and queer along the shore as it looks in the geography, and I'm
going to tell the girls so when I get back to school.
There's no sense in working so hard on our maps if 'tisn't true, and
Maine was the very hardest State of all to draw, for 'twas so awful
jiggly along the edge. Really, it isn't so a bit, for I have seen it,
and ought to know.
Here come Snip and Moppet, and I hear Fan and Dora rushing up stairs for
me, so I will bid you good-by, or "orevo," as I heard Dr. Le Baron say
to Miss Farrar when he went away last night--that is, it _sounded_ like
orevo. I don't know as I spell it right, for I can not find it anywhere
in my dictionary.
With ever so much love to the rest of the dolls, as well as to yourself,
dear Clytie, good-night.
Your little mamma,
BESSIE MAYNARD.
WASHING THE BABIES' FACES.
THE GREEDY LITTLE MOUSE.
BY E. C.
Tottie and Lillie were twins, with the same wide-open blue eyes, the
same rosy dimples, and bright yellow hair. One day, when they were
seated at the little table in the nursery eating their dinner--for they
were too young yet to dine with mamma--Tottie thought she saw a little
black bead shining in a hole by the closet door. No, it could not be a
bead, for it popped in and out. Presently out came a little pointed
nose, with long stiff whiskers, two little round ears, and two bright
black--not beads, but eyes. The children sat very still, and thought
they had never seen anything quite so pretty as the little plump body
and long graceful tail whisking rapidly and noiselessly, while the
little creature peered cautiously about. Lillie threw gently a little
piece of bread, but terrified little mousie thought it was surely
intended to kill her, and flew back to her stronghold in the closet.
Tottie now put a little piece of bread quite close to the hole, and they
sat motionless for it to re-appear. They had not long to wait; the bread
was too sweet a morsel for mousie to resist, and they soon had the great
pleasure of seeing her first nibble a little, and finally drag it into
the hole. Lillie said, "Oh, don't you know, Tottie, mousie is the
mother, and she has a lot of little children in her house, and that is
going to be their dinner: let's give her some every day." And so they
did, until mousie grew so tame and so wise she seemed to know the dinner
hour as well as they, and would come nearer and nearer, and run in and
out under the table picking up the crumbs; but she was ever a little
distrustful.
If any one made an effort to catch her, or made ever so little noise,
off she flew to her hole, and would wait, and peep out for some time,
before she became re-assured. But when every one was fast asleep in bed,
then she became more brave; but with all her fine feeding, Mrs. Mouse
could not overcome her nature, and, I grieve to add, she was a _thief_.
She would rummage in pockets for cake and goodies, and climb to the
highest shelf if she smelt any dainty, and so, alas! fell a victim to
her greedy propensities.
Nurse had put a bowl of liquid starch, on the shelf in the closet, and
mousie, thinking she had a fine treat, scaled the side, and reaching
over for the dainty, lost her balance, and tumbled in. The fluid was too
heavy and the sides too steep and slippery for her to escape; so, after
vain endeavors, she sank exhausted to the bottom.
The next day, and the next passed, and no mousie came at the usual hour.
Tottie said she "_knew_ the old black cat had caught her." Lillie said
she "_knew_ the children were sick." So she threw little bits down the
hole for her. But when nurse went for her forgotten starch, the truth
was revealed. Poor mousie was dead. Many tears fell; and although the
children had many toys, nothing was equal to that sly, active,
bright-eyed, live little play-fellow.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.]
GROESBEECK, TEXAS.
I am twelve years old, and am a constant reader of YOUNG PEOPLE. I
think the story of "The Moral Pirates" is the best of all.
I am a member of the "Groesbeeck Cornet Band," considered the best
band in the State for practice. I play second B flat cornet. I
live not far from the railroad, and I have a little engine of my
own that runs by steam. I was born in London, England.
SAM RISIEN, Jun.
* * * * *
VANDALIA, ILLINOIS.
I have taken YOUNG PEOPLE from the first number, and papa says he
will have it bound for me if I keep it nice. Lots of times, when
papa brings it home, and dinner is just ready, I go without my
dinner to read it.
I have three little ducks for my pets. They are real greedy when I
feed them, and they fly upon my shoulders to get the first bite.
I am making a little cook-book, and would like any recipe from the
readers of YOUNG PEOPLE.
I am much obliged to Etta D. for naming her Paris doll after me,
although I don't suppose she knew she did it.
ROSA BELL H.,
Staten Island.
* * * * *
Dotty Seaman is my sister, but I am two years younger than she is,
and I can not write very well yet, so she is writing this letter
for me. I must tell you about my pets. I have a blue-bird that
bites very hard when I try to catch him. He is very wild, but I
hope he will get tame. My little sister Lucy has a pet lamb named
Will. It was very cross the other day. We have a bay horse named
Sue, and I ride round from the door sometimes. It is great fun. I
like YOUNG PEOPLE very much, and I love to make Wiggles.
WILLIE I. S.
* * * * *
NORTH ANDOVER, MASSACHUSETTS.
I have noticed that several correspondents of Our Post-office Box
inquire how to preserve eggs. Eggs should always be blown, for if
they are not, they gradually change their color, becoming darker
than is natural. Besides losing the delicacy of the tints, they
are also easily broken, while if blown, they can be dropped quite
a distance without being injured.
In order to blow them, make two holes on the same side, a little
distance apart. The holes should be very small. Boys often make
them twice as large as necessary. It is better to make them both
on the same side, as that side can be placed down in the case, and
the egg looks neater.
HARRY W. C.
* * * * *
TAYLORSVILLE, TEXAS.
I love to read the letters in the Post-office Box very much, and I
like the story of "The Moral Pirates." Do you know whether Frank
Austin, the hero of "Across the Ocean," is living yet?
JOSEPH L. P.
Yes, Frank Austin is living, and often comes into the office of YOUNG
PEOPLE.
* * * * *
BROOKLYN, NEW YORK.
I am nearly thirteen years old. I have taken YOUNG PEOPLE from the
beginning, and I think it is the nicest paper published.
I have a collection of postage stamps, and am saving money to buy
a stamp album. My father has taken HARPER'S WEEKLY and MONTHLY
ever since I can remember. I wish YOUNG PEOPLE much success.
Can you tell me why some correspondents sign fancy names to their
letters?
CHARLES C. M.
You probably know that many great authors sign a _nom de plume_ to their
writings, and some little authors like to do the same. Our young
correspondents, with but few exceptions, send us their real names, even
when they desire the publication of a fictitious one, and it would
please us better if they would always do so.
* * * * *
JACKSON, MISSISSIPPI.
I am eight years old. I am writing this with my left hand, because
my right arm is broken. I have broken it three times.
I had a little turtle, but it died. Now I have a pet goat.
HARRY D. F.
* * * * *
HOBOKEN, NEW JERSEY.
I wish to tell Kittie G. that I tried her recipe for butterscotch,
and found it splendid. I am glad she liked mine. I also tried
Fanny S.'s recipe for caramels, and it was very nice.
REBECCA H.
I am five years old, and can not write myself, but my sister is
writing for me, and I tell her what to say. I have some pet
Plymouth Rock chickens, and they are all named. My brother Wilton
has four beautiful pet pigeons, and one of them is making a nest.
I have four cats, and a setter pup named Dash. Uncle Jimmie lives
with us, and takes YOUNG PEOPLE for my brothers, Wilton and Eddie,
and myself, and we all like it very much. Wilton reads everything
in it.
I have some beautiful morning-glories that have been blooming ever
since the first of June, and I will send some seed to any little
boy or girl who would like some, and will send me their address.
MARY EARLE,
Evergreen, Anderson County, South Carolina.
* * * * *
DENVER, COLORADO.
I am very much obliged for my nice little paper, YOUNG PEOPLE. My
uncle gave it to me for a Christmas present, and it amuses mamma
and me very much.
My only pet is a nice canary. When I let him out of the cage he
flies and picks the buds off from mamma's plants.
We can see the snow on the mountains all the time here where I
live. I am twelve years old.
LULU.
* * * * *
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.
I am seven years old. I like to read the letters in YOUNG PEOPLE
so much that I want to write one myself. I live in a large orange
grove. It is a lovely place, and summer lasts all the year.
My pet is a hen named Tinny. She is so tame I can pick her up
anywhere. She has eleven little chickens now. I can not write very
well, for I have been to school only eight months.
NELLIE E. C.
* * * * *
MONTICELLO, NEW JERSEY.
I think YOUNG PEOPLE is the nicest little paper that I ever saw.
The only pet I have is a dear little baby sister. I am eleven
years old, and I have been to a private school two years.
My papa is an editor, and in a year or two I am going to study
stenography so that I can report for his paper.
I have two younger brothers, and we are all learning to swim. I
can take fifteen strokes.
GEORGE E. W.
* * * * *
NETHERWOOD, NEW JERSEY.
Here is a recipe for cookies for Nellie E. O.: One cup of butter;
two cups of sugar; one cup of milk; one egg; one tea-spoonful of
royal baking powder; a little grated nutmeg; flour enough to make
it very stiff. Roll very thin. These cookies will keep good a long
time. I have made them, and I know they are good. I am twelve
years old.
EVA LOUISE P.
* * * * *
May M. Vinton, Mabel Lowell, Alberta F. Morrill, and K. R. send very
nice recipes for candy, but they are so very similar to recipes already
published that we can not make room for them. We would request the young
housekeepers to avoid repetition as much as possible, for while we thank
them all for their favors, we can only print such recipes as are new.
* * * * *
I would like to exchange for some birds' eggs a collection of
Christmas, New-Year, and birthday cards, about sixty in number,
and all in good order. Most of them are as good as new. If some
correspondent would write to me, stating the number and the
varieties of eggs he would be willing to exchange with me, we
might agree on terms.
VANCE MARTIN,
243 Dearborn Avenue, Chicago, Illinois.
* * * * *
I am ten years old. My aunt takes HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE for my
sister and myself.
I would like to exchange pressed leaves and flowers with some
little girl in California.
MAUD EVERETT,
Newark, Delaware.
* * * * *
I am collecting different kinds of seeds, and I would like to
exchange them with any correspondents of YOUNG PEOPLE. We have
only purple and white larkspurs, and if Mary Lowry has any other
colors, I will gladly exchange pink seed for them.
DOTTY SEAMAN,
Richmond, Staten Island, New York.
* * * * *
Some boys, friends of mine in this part of Brooklyn, are going to
start a young chemists' club, and I desire recipes for simple
experiments from any readers of YOUNG PEOPLE.
I also send a recipe for Puss Hunter's cooking club. Currant
ice-cream: one table-spoonful and a half of currant jelly or
juice; one cup of sugar; one pint of sweet cream; the juice of one
lemon. Stir until the sugar is thoroughly melted, and freeze.
I will exchange flowers, ferns, leaves, and mosses from the Long
Island woods with any readers of YOUNG PEOPLE.
CHARLIE WILLIAMSON,
293 Eckford Street, Brooklyn, New York.
* * * * *
I tried Fanny S.'s recipe for caramels, and thought it was very
nice.
I would like to exchange postage stamps with any boy or girl.
J. FRED SEAMAN,
114 Cumberland Street, Brooklyn, New York.
* * * * *
My home is eighteen miles from St. Paul, on Lake St. Croix. It is
a beautiful lake, and is navigable for large steamers, and there
is splendid fishing here for boys. We find many specimens of
carnelian on the lake shore. It is a species of agate or
chalcedony. I would like to exchange some for any curiosities from
any other State.
CARRIE E. SILLIMAN,
Hudson, St. Croix County, Wisconsin.
* * * * *
I have taken YOUNG PEOPLE from the first number, and like it very
much.
I am collecting birds' eggs, and would be pleased to exchange
varieties with any of the correspondents of YOUNG PEOPLE.
I have six catalogues of the birds and eggs of Ohio, which I will
take pleasure in forwarding to any six correspondents engaged in
collecting, if they will send me the necessary postage.
WALTER DOUGLASS,
Mount Auburn, Cincinnati, Ohio.
* * * * *
I subscribed for YOUNG PEOPLE immediately on seeing it. I liked it
ever so much then, and I like it more and more all the time.
I have a lot of United States, official, and foreign postage
stamps that I would like to exchange with any readers of YOUNG
PEOPLE (especially with those just beginning a collection, as I
have not many rare stamps) for minerals, curiosities, or relics of
any kind.
Correspondents will please write to me, stating what kind of
stamps they would like, and what they have to exchange for them.
GEORGE M. FINCKEL,
P. O. Box 368, Washington, D. C.
* * * * *
If Paul R. H., of Philadelphia, whose letter was in Post-office Box No.
35, will send his address to Annie M. Wickham, Titusville, Pennsylvania,
she will send him some Canton and Hong-Kong postage stamps for his
collection.
* * * * *
A dear friend sends me YOUNG PEOPLE every week. I have all the
numbers, and enjoy them very much.
I tried Puss Hunter's recipe for cake, and found it very nice.
I am seven years old, and have been to school only one term, but
mamma taught me to write more than a year ago.
I have two flower beds of my own, in which are geraniums,
verbenas, heliotropes, pansies, daisies, and forget-me-nots. I
would like to exchange some of these pressed with Genevieve, or
any other little girl.
MAY DOOLITTLE,
19 South Union Street, Rochester, New York.
* * * * *
I have a small stamp collection of two hundred and fifty different
kinds, and I would be glad to exchange with any readers of YOUNG
PEOPLE. I am thirteen years old.
ERNEST ARONI,
Bloomfield, Nelson County, Kentucky.
* * * * *
I would like to exchange minerals with some one in a Western or
Southern State.
EDWIN O. JORDAN,
Thomaston, Knox County, Maine.
* * * * *
I have a pony of my own, and I ride him almost every day. I would
like to exchange stamps with any readers of YOUNG PEOPLE. I have
about four hundred stamps.
PIERRE JAY,
Mamaroneck, Westchester County, New York.
* * * * *
I am collecting postmarks of different towns and cities of this
and foreign countries. I have only two hundred now, but am very
anxious for more, and would like to exchange with any reader of
YOUNG PEOPLE.
STANLEY K. HAWKINS,
United States Hotel, Boston, Massachusetts.
* * * * *