every one else did. Old gentlemen with high-bred noses came and peered
at them through big spectacles. Young ladies talked of their families,
and--oh, horrors!--said they would like to dissect them. Old ladies
smiled on them pleasantly, and one, a grandmother, actually shed tears,
and said, "I haven't seen their like in fifty years."
But now it began to grow tiresome, this big world they had come to see;
the sunlight streamed through the great windows, the tiny blossoms grew
faint in the sultry air. When would the hum of speech grow silent, the
clouds come brooding above them, and the soft rain-drops patter down?
The flowers grew fainter and fainter. A grand old man is now speaking at
the end of the hall; but they can not listen.
"Oh, for a breeze from the pine-barrens!" sighed the beauty.
"Give me to drink the dew of the meadow," moaned the Daisy.
"I die for the woodland shadows," murmured the Violet.
"And I for the sound of cool waters," wept the Lily.
[Begun in HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE No. 94, August 16.]
PENELOPE.
BY MRS. JOHN LILLIE.
CHAPTER III.
"Why, aunt," exclaimed Penelope, "what do you mean? Surely you can't
have seen this screen of Lion's?"
"But I _have_, dearest," Miss Harleford said, dreamily. "I have seen
this long ago--before you were born. Oh, Penny dear, it all comes back
to me. This screen, I am _sure_, is one your own papa gave to Nora
Phillips, an American girl who visited us at Baynham. Oh yes, love, I am
sure of it, for we had such a discussion about it; and don't you suppose
I would know my dear brother's painting? I was looking over his shoulder
half the time he was putting in those letters--'Penelope.' Dear, you
were named Penelope, I believe, for her sake. Your mother was very fond
of the name, and when it was suggested, your father remembered pretty
Nora. Well! well!"
"But _she_ was not Penelope," said the girl, wonderingly. "Oh, aunt,
what does it all mean?"
"But we always _called_ her Penelope in fun, because she was such an
indefatigable little worker. Oh, what a darling she was, and how we all
loved her!"
"But what became of her?"
"Well, my dear, you see, after she and her father went back to America,
we rather lost sight of her--she and my mother had a little
misunderstanding. It is all a long time ago, and your grandmamma and my
dear brother are both dead. Nora may be gone as well, but I seem to see
her now just as she stood, laughing gayly, with this screen in her hand.
Oh, where can she be? Where did Lion find it? I feel as if I _must_
know."
Penelope felt as if she would dearly like to solve the mystery of her
cousin Lionel's present. She went back to the breakfast table very
grave, and so preoccupied in manner that she had to explain herself at
once; and then all the young people were fired by the story. What did it
mean? Penny grew absolutely mournful trying to understand it, but it was
finally resolved to write to Lionel, who, in a few weeks at least, would
let them have the history of the screen, so far as he knew it. This was
all that could be done at present.
Penelope and her aunt were only visitors at the Deanery. Their own home
was ten miles distant from Nunsford. There Penny was mistress of a
beautiful old home known as The Manor. Miss Harleford had been for years
as a mother to the girl, and although her uncle, the Dean of Nunsford,
was her legal guardian, she knew no heavier rule than the gentle old
lady's. If there could be needed a complete contrast to poor Nora Mayne,
it might have been in the petted heiress of Harleford Manor. Every one
tried his best to make her life happy, and I think only her natural
loveliness of disposition saved Penelope from being completely spoiled.
The letter to Lionel Harleford, Penelope's second cousin, who had just
gone to India, was dispatched at once, and for days Aunt Letty talked
over old times with her brother and nieces. The Dean only half
remembered the beautiful, bright American girl who had visited his
mother's house, now Penelope's, twenty years before; but Miss Harleford
recalled so many scenes to his memory that he was soon as eager about
Lion's letter as the most romantic member of the family could desire.
Many conjectures were put forth, many ideas suggested; but who could
guess that not half a mile away the once light-hearted Nora Phillips lay
poor and dying!
Meanwhile things continued to sink lower and lower with Nora and her
mother, the worst feature of their case being the fact that kind-hearted
Mrs. Bruce could no longer keep them; her son James had suddenly
appeared, and declared himself horrified to find his mother keeping
lodgers who could not pay their rent; and so, with many tears, poor Mrs.
Bruce had broken this news to Mrs. Mayne.
"Of course we must go," said poor Nora, looking at the tender-hearted
landlady with a white face and set lips. "Oh, Mrs. Bruce, I know it
isn't your fault, and if the day comes when I can earn anything, you
shall be paid."
Mrs. Bruce wept bitterly the day that saw Mrs. Mayne, still weak and
ill, leave the house with Nora, whose brave heart was tried to its
uttermost. Where were they to go? Nora could not be sure enough to tell
even Mrs. Bruce. She had sold the last of their wardrobe that morning,
and as Mrs. Bruce refused to take a penny from them, they started forth
with money enough to pay somewhere for a week's lodging.
"I will try to let you know where we are, Mrs. Bruce, as soon as
possible," said Nora, turning back with a weary smile as they were
leaving.
Mrs. Bruce wiped her eyes, and vented her feelings upon James, her tall,
vulgarly dressed son, who was gazing with great satisfaction upon the
lodgers' departure.
"You good-for-nothing creature!" exclaimed his mother, angrily
indignant.
Mr. James Bruce smiled sarcastically. He did not share any of his
mother's compassion for forlorn lodgers.
"Never you mind, mother," he said. "You'll thank me one of these days."
Days passed with no tidings from the Maynes. Mrs. Bruce could not forget
her lodgers, and Nora's face, as she had seen it last, haunted her
painfully. Where were they? Had the mother died? Was Nora ill? Were they
starving? These and many other conjectures tormented the poor woman as
the days lengthened into weeks, and no sign was made by mother or
daughter. Many times Mrs. Bruce's tears fell over her wools when she was
alone in the shop, and recalled the December evening Nora had served
there, uniting so much sweet good-humor with her refined, lady-like
ways, which had from the first captivated the heart of the simple-minded
country-woman. Mrs. Bruce had a small assistant now in the person of a
niece, and this young woman was never tired of hearing about Miss Mayne.
She was listening to one of her aunt's stories as they sat over the fire
in the shop one February day, when she suddenly exclaimed:
"Law, aunt, there's Miss Penelope Harleford in the Deanery
carriage--coming in here, too!" and there, sure enough, was bright Miss
Penny, in a long fur cloak, and a pretty felt hat shading her sweet
young face. "A picter," as Mrs. Bruce said, "worth taking down." Young
Miss Harleford came hurrying in, looking very eager and interested.
"I've come to inquire for some one who sold a screen here, Mrs. Bruce,"
said the young lady, cheerfully. "My cousin, Mr. Lionel Harleford,
bought it here in December--a young lady sold it to him."
"Land, miss!" cried Mrs. Bruce, "so she did, my poor pretty! I wish I
knew where she was now--she and her mother."
Penelope looked dismayed.
"And you _don't_ know!" she exclaimed.
"I wish I did," repeated Mrs. Bruce. "Mary Jane and I was just talking
of her. Gone, poor lamb, she and her mother, and I know nothing of
them."
And Mrs. Bruce proceeded to detail the history of Nora and her mother,
so far as she knew it. The sad, simple story left no doubt upon
Penelope's mind as to who they were.
"Nora Phillips," she said to herself. "Yes, she was Mrs. Mayne, I feel
sure, and so near us!"
She confided a few facts only to Mrs. Bruce, and then sorrowfully drove
back to the Deanery, where she and Aunt Letty held a long confab in the
twilight. What could be done? Aunt Letty cried, and Penelope shook her
head sadly, but she declared that she would not give up the search
suggested in so strange a manner that it seemed her duty to continue it.
Could Penelope and her aunt have seen Nora at that moment, I fear they
would have gone to rest with a bitterer heart-ache.
Afternoon service was over the next day at the abbey church, yet
Penelope lingered with little Joe, loitering down the path, where the
snow still lay white on the ground, talking to the little boy about the
service, which that day had peculiarly impressed her. She was thinking
of Nora Mayne, recalling Mrs. Bruce's description of the sweet young
girl whose life was so heavily burdened.
"And I," thought Penny, with a shamefaced color--"I have _everything_,
and yet how cross and selfish I am!"
"Penelope! Penelope!" cried out little Joe, pulling at her hand; "see
those sparrows--do they mind the snow?"
And at this moment Penny heard what she thought the echo of her name.
"Penelope," said a strange voice; there was a faint, despairing ring in
it.
Penelope stood still, turning her head quickly in the direction of the
unfamiliar voice. Standing in the side path was a girl's figure; the
hands were tremblingly clasped together, the face, thin and pale,
eagerly watching her.
[Illustration: "PENELOPE--IS IT PENELOPE?"--DRAWN BY E. A. ABBEY.]
"Penelope--is it Penelope?" said the tired voice again. "Oh, was it for
you he bought the screen?"
And in a moment more Nora Mayne felt her hands fast imprisoned in young
Miss Harleford's. There were tears running down the English girl's
cheeks.
"Oh, Nora," she said, joyfully, "I am so thankful to have found you!"
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
[Illustration: EVERY CLOUD HAS A SILVER LINING.
MAMMA. "If you continue to be so naughty, I'll have to buy a whip to
punish you with."
MIMI. "But when I'm good, you'll let me play with it, won't you, mamma?"
[_A fact._]]
[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.]
SCHLOSS KIS-TABOR, POST: ROHITSCH, STYRIA, AUSTRIA.
My brother and I are so glad to get YOUNG PEOPLE again! We both
like it so very much! I will tell you something about this part of
Croatia. It is called "Zagoria," which means "beyond the
mountains." Our peasants live principally on maize, made into bread
and a sort of porridge. They are a good-natured and gay-tempered
people, and always singing. Our most important products are wine,
"slivovitz" (plum-brandy), and dried plums. Not far from us, on a
lofty hill, stood a Celtic Temple of the Sun. Later, the Romans
conquered the Celts, and we have some ancient Roman coins and
broken bronze objects dug up in the vineyards. Looking out from our
windows one sees innumerable churches, chapels, castles,
picturesque ruins, and far-away snow-covered Alps. It is very
beautiful. We have a pet donkey, and a pretty little carriage to
drive in. I am collecting coins, fossils, and minerals.
Last week a Bosniak came into our court-yard leading a bear caught
in Slavonia. He waltzed, saluted, kissed his master, and then held
up the tambourine for money. We sent him some wine and bread, which
he devoured greedily.
LUCY KAVANAGH.
* * * * *
CAMP CARLING, WYOMING TERRITORY.
My two little boys, aged four and six years, want me to tell you
that they were very much interested in Mr. Frey's article about
Indian relics. They tried this summer with their mamma to dig up a
grave on a hill near the South Platte River. But being in a ledge
of rock, the mamma and little boys were not strong enough to get
down more than two feet, and had to give it up. Mamma tried to hire
a man to dig for her, but the men were all afraid of small-pox. It
was said that thirty years ago more than a thousand Indians had
died of small-pox, and had been buried in that vicinity. A ranchman
on a neighboring hill, however, had opened one, and we obtained
some clam shells, a red clay pipe, a thin piece of bark with some
blue writing on it, and a round leather amulet worked with beads. A
few weeks later, Sidney and Willie drove with their papa and mamma
through North Park, Colorado, into Middle Park, and on a hill near
the range which separates the two parks they found about a hundred
graves which had never been molested. They wanted very much to open
them, but had no shovel, and could not spend the time to stop. I
wonder how many more of the Young People have tried to open graves.
MRS. MARY E. B.
* * * * *
BURLINGTON, IOWA.
I am nine years old. Papa has taken YOUNG PEOPLE for me ever since
it was published. I like the stories very much, and would like to
see the little girls who write such nice letters. I have one sister
and two brothers. I wish the little readers of YOUNG PEOPLE could
see my cat Polly. She can knock on the door, walk on her hind-feet,
and beg for food like a dog, and will come to us when we whistle,
and do lots of cunning tricks.
My brother Arthur has a dog whose name is Brownie, and he can
laugh. He looks so funny. We have two pigs, and a horse. Mamma one
day found a coal-black kitty in the street, and brought him home.
He is now a big cat, and very pretty. Mamma calls him Frank.
When I write again I will tell you about my doll family.
LOUISE L.
* * * * *
JERSEY CITY, NEW JERSEY.
I have a little Scotch terrier named Nellie, and she loves me
dearly. Every time I enter the house she kisses me, and will stand
on her hind-legs, sit up, beg, and do lots of tricks. I am seven
years old.
HARRY L.
* * * * *
BROOKLYN, NEW YORK.
I think the stories of "Toby Tyler," "The Moral Pirates," and "The
Cruise of the 'Ghost'" are very nice, and I hope the story of "Tim
and Tip" will be equal to any of the three. Another boy will write
on the rest of this sheet.
EDDIE G.
I have a velocipede, and so has Eddie G. He and I are great
friends, and we have nice times together. We have some pigeons at
our house, but we intend to give them away. We have given away all
our chickens. We had three canaries, but one flew away, and my
mother is afraid the cat got it.
A. T.
* * * * *
WORCESTER, MASSACHUSETTS.
Seeing the article in No. 93 on "How the Baby Elephant Eats
Pea-Nuts," I thought I would write and tell you of a nut-cracker
which I discovered in the same show that contained the "baby." My
father and I were watching a number of the larger elephants hunting
for pea-nuts thrown in the straw, when I saw one of them who, if he
found a nut, would take it up with his trunk, and rub it against
his leg until the shell was cracked, after which he proceeded to
eat the kernel. I am glad C. H. Williamson has accepted the
presidency of the Natural History Society. I for one am entirely in
favor of admitting girls.
C. M. H.
Your interest in the article about the baby elephant, and your own
observation of the way the baby's big brother managed his pea-nuts,
prove that you will be a good member of the society. Some of our boys
and girls are, we fear, waiting to be very dignified before they send
any letters with regard to what they have seen. Some wish to send a long
report. The better way is to write about interesting things, one at a
time, just as they are noticed.
* * * * *
BENTLEY'S, MARYLAND.
I often think about Toby Tyler. If he had only staid with the
circus, he would not have lost dear Mr. Stubbs. I am anxious to
know how the boys who went on "The Cruise of the 'Ghost'" got along
with their canoe cruise, or if they ever had one.
MCB.
* * * * *
SANDWICH ISLANDS.
We have observed so many nice little girls writing to you that we
have been thinking for some time that we would send you a letter.
We are Hawaiians, as our mother is a native of the island, though
our father is a white man. We live close to the mountains, and have
quite a number of birds around our place. Land-shells are as
numerous on the mountains as sea-shells are down on the beach. Some
time hereafter we may probably visit New York, and then we shall
not forget to go and see the editor of YOUNG PEOPLE, and thank him
very much for making such a nice paper for children. It has been a
great comfort to us, and amused us many a lonely hour. We are a
large family, consisting of father, mother, four sisters, six
brothers, one nephew, and one niece. _Aloha_ (love to you).
LYDY, ELIZA, and HANNAH.
Our love to you, little friends. We will be glad to see you in New York
some day.
* * * * *
ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI.
I am thirteen years old. I came to New York from England, May 23,
1880, on the steam-ship _City of Chester_ (Inman Line). We made a
short trip of nine days and eight hours. I like this country very
much, but sometimes wish myself back in the old home. I began to
take your paper about two months ago. I think "The Cruise of the
'Ghost'" was a very instructive and interesting story, and I hope
"Tim and Tip" will be more so. I like the Post-office Box very
much, especially the puzzle column. I have made an effort to write
an enigma myself, and have sent it with this letter.
HUGH P. W.
* * * * *
FREEPORT, ILLINOIS.
We were very much gratified to see dear Mary's name among those who
had sent answers to the tangles. The letter she wrote you in July
was her last writing. She was taken sick the following Monday with
malignant diphtheria, and before another Sabbath closed, her
trusting heart was asleep in Jesus. His name was the last upon her
lips. I wish that all who die could exercise her calm,
unquestioning faith in Christ. The Thursday before she died, she
looked eagerly in the puzzle department for her name. I explained
again that it could not possibly be in for a week yet at least. "I
wonder if they will publish my enigma, mamma? If I get well, I'll
send that diamond I made up yesterday." On Wednesday she felt so
well, and all day amused herself drawing birds and trees, and made
a diamond and some-beheadings. She thought so much of YOUNG PEOPLE!
She was a poor scribe, but her thoughts were very quaint, and
expressed in the language of culture. She rarely made a grammatical
error, and all things fine seemed natural to her. As we all grow
interested in the little folks whose names fill your departments, I
thought I would send you this notice that the dear bird who
brightened our home for so brief a time, and who promised our
hearts such lofty pleasure through her active mind and bright
imaginings, will never on this earth sing for you again.
MRS. E. C. BURCHARD.
From time to time in our great circle of readers, dear children, some
drop from the ranks. Little Mary will never be forgotten in her earthly
home, and those who loved her here will hope to meet her again where
there is no death. We are glad she found so much pleasure in YOUNG
PEOPLE.
* * * * *
NEW YORK.
I am only five years old, and my mamma is going to write this
letter for me. I think "Toby Tyler" was a "booful" story; but I did
cry when Mr. Stubbs got "shotted." And I want you, please, to ask
Mr. Otis not to kill Tim's poor little doggie. Tim's the boy in the
new story. I have got three little new kittens, and I am going to
name them Toby and Tim and Tip.
AMY E. V.
The kitties are Blossie's "chillun."
* * * * *
MONTE SANO, HUNTSVILLE, ALABAMA.
I would like to tell you what a nice time I am having on our lovely
mountain, four miles from Huntsville, where I am spending the
summer. I make beautiful sand houses, and my mamma ornaments them
with fairy feet, which she makes with her hands. They look like a
baby's tiny foot. I have a dear little baby brother, whose name is
Tyler. For fun we call him Toby Tyler. I am going to send an
offering to the "Young People's Cot," for I think it will be very
nice to have one which the readers of the paper may claim. I enjoy
my paper very much, as I am now beginning to be able to read it
myself.
EDWIN L. W.
* * * * *
NANTUCKET, MASSACHUSETTS.
I am ten years old, and have never been to school, but study at
home. We have a cat that was born with three legs. His name is
Trip. The first time Trip ever saw Rover, our dog, he ran right up
to him, and ever since he always runs up to Rover when frightened.
Once we had a Maltese cat who was very fond of Rover, and Rover was
fond of Tom. Once mamma and papa were looking out of the window,
and they saw Tom with his tail full of burrs, and Rover pulling
them out. He got them nearly all out, when he came to one that
stuck so hard that when he tried to pull it out it lifted Tom right
up in the air. Tom was rather surprised, but concluded that it was
all right, while Rover did not know what to do. At last he put his
paw on Tom's tail, so that he should not be lifted up, and pulled
out the burrs. Papa did have a live porcupine, but it died. I like
the YOUNG PEOPLE very much indeed. I think that "Toby Tyler" was
splendid.
M. N. W.
* * * * *
PORTLAND, MAINE.
I am sure I shall like "Tim and Tip" as much as I did "Toby Tyler"
for it begins so well. I wrote a composition on Toby, and I know a
boy who has a monkey that is the very picture of Mr. Stubbs. I am
almost ten years old.
EDDIE L. M.
* * * * *
PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA.
My father has coal-works, and the engineer is teaching me how to
run his locomotive. It is about the best one in the United States,
and it is named for me.
LOUIS B. H.
* * * * *
BLACKFOOT, ONEIDA COUNTY, IDAHO.
I thought I would write a letter, as I have seen no letters from
this part of the country. My brothers Willie and James and I sent
50 cents each to get your nice paper. I am the oldest, so I wrote
for it, and had it come in Willie's name, because he thought it
would be so nice to have it addressed to him. We have no schools
here, and we study at home.
FRED J.
* * * * *
OWENSBOROUGH, KENTUCKY.
I am almost ten years old, and I live in Kentucky, on the Ohio
River, and first and last have lots of fun. I have the cutest dog.
His name is Dodger. He is only a puppy, but can shake hands and
carry sticks like anything. Our whole family mourned Mr. Stubbs's
sad death. I have some queer stones and pebbles that I found in our
Kentucky caves and creeks and on the hill-sides, that I will
exchange for things from other States.
MALCOLM H. MCINTYRE.
* * * * *
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA.
Some fifty days ago I sent to a boy in Mankato, Minnesota, 250
postmarks, he agreeing to send Indian relics in exchange. I have
asked him to send them three times, but he will not answer. If he
is out of relics, he ought to return the postmarks or send some
word.
FLETCHER M. NOE.
Perfect honor and honesty should be observed by exchangers. We hear
complaints like this with regret, and hope the delinquent boy will
explain the matter. Several correspondents are in trouble because those
who have written to them have carelessly omitted to give their proper
names and addresses, or have written illegibly.
We have spoken of this frequently, but we call attention to it now
because it has been almost impossible for us to read some of the
exchanges lately sent to the Post-office Box. Please write plainly, and
with ink; pencil marks are rubbed off in the mail. Again we say, in
answer to several inquiries, that there is no charge for exchanges. We
do not accept those which offer or ask for money, however, because they
come under the head of advertisements, and refer to buying and selling.
* * * * *
FALLS CITY, NEBRASKA.
My home is on a farm two miles from Falls City, four miles from the
line of Kansas, and eight from the Missouri River. I have three
brothers and two sisters at home. We read the first chapter of "Tim
and Tip" to-day, and we do not blame Tim for running away. We think
it will be a very good story.
Like many of the young people who write for the Post-office Box, we
had a pet. It was a young mare named Nelly, and she was so gentle
that any of us could ride her; but last week, when she was in the
pasture, she lay down to roll near a rattlesnake, and it bit her so
that she died in three days. She swelled very much, and suffered
terribly, and we all felt like crying when she died. Papa has
buried her in the orchard. She left a little colt only six weeks
old, and we have given it to another mare, who now has two colts to
care for. There used to be a great many rattlesnakes here, but they
are getting scarcer every year. I wish some good saint would drive
all the snakes out of Nebraska, as St. Patrick is said to have
banished them from Ireland.
MAMIE H. H.
* * * * *
The following exchanges are offered by correspondents:
Foreign stamps, for same. Write to describe exchange.
E. E. BROWN, Comstock's Bridge, Conn.
* * * * *