Saint Nicholas - ::: MEMORIA DE MADRID :::

' A M ; D W 1 N T E R ' N I G H T . ” E N G R A V E D B Y E L B R I D G E K I N G S L E Y .

( S c c a r t i c l e in ih is n rn n b o r e n t i t le d " A n E n g r n v e r o n W h e e l s " )

Ayuntamiento de Madrid

ST. NICHOLAS.VOL. X I . F E B R U A R Y , 1 8 8 4 . No . 4.

[ C o p y r i g h t , 1884 , b y T h e C E N T U R Y C 0 .|

T A B B Y ' S T A B L E - C L O T H . — S E C O N D S P I N N I N G - W H E E L S T O R Y ,

B y L o u i s a M . A l c o t t -

T h e s to rm k e p t 011 a l l n ig h t , a n d n e x t m o rn in g the d rifts w e re h ig h e r , t h e w in d s t ro n g e r , a n d th e snow fa l l in g fa s te r th a n e v e r . T h r o u g h th e d a y the ch ild re n ro v e d a b o u t th e g r e a t h o u s e , a m u s in g tliem selves a s b e s t th e y c o u ld ; a n d , w h e n e v e n in g carne, th e y g a th e r e d a ro u n d th e f ir e a g a in , e a g e r for the p ro m is e d s t o r y fro m G r a n d m a m m a .

“ I 've a little coid,” said the oíd lady, “ an d am too hoarse for talk ing, m y d e a rs ; b u t A u n t E linor has looked up a parcel o f oíd tales th a t I ’ve told her at different tim es an d which she has written dowi). You will like to h ea r h e r read ing b e tter than my dull way o f te lling them , and I can help Minnie and L otty with th e ir w ork, for I see they are bent on learn ing to sp in .”

The young folk were well pleased w ith G rand- ma’s p roposal; for A u n t N ell was a favorite with all, being lively an d k ind and fond o f children, and the only m aiden au n t in the family. Now, she smilingly produced a faded oíd portfolio, and, turning over a little pile o f m anuscrip ts, said in her pleasant way >

“ Here are all sorts, p icked up in m y travels at home and abroad ; an d in order to su it all o f you, I have pu t the ñam es on slips o f pap er in to this basket, and each can draw one in tu rn . 'D oes tha t please my d istinguished audicncc ? ”

“ Yes, yes. Geoff ’s the oldest, let him draw fitst,” cried the flock, fluttering like a flight of birds before they settle.

“ Girls come firs t,” answ ered the boy, with a nod toward the eldest girl cousin.

Lotty p u t ¡n her hand and, after som e fum bling, drew ou t a paper on which was w ritten , “ Tabby’s Table-cloih." “ Is th a t a good o n e ? ” she asked, for Geoff looked disappointed.

“ M ore fighting , though a girl is stiE the hero- in e ," answ ered A unt Ncll, search ing for the m anu- script.

“ I th in k two revolutions will be enough for you. G eneral,” added G randm am m a, laughing.

“ Do we b ea t i n b o th ? ” asked the boy, brigb t- en ing up a t once.

“ Yes.”“ A ll right, then. I vote for ‘Dolly’s D ish-clo th ,’

o r whatever it i s ; though I don’t see w hat it can possibly have to do svitli w ar,” he added.

“ A h, m y dear, women have tlieir pa rt to play as well as m en a t such times, and do it bravely, though onc does not hear so m uch about tlieir courage. I ’ve often wished some onc would col- lec t a ll th a t can be found about these forgotten heroincs, an d pu t it in a book for us to read, adm ire, and em ulate when our turn com es.”

G randm a looked thoughtfully a t the fire as she spoke, an d L otty said, with h e r eye on the portfo lio ; “ Perhaps A u n t Nell will do it for U S . T hen liistory w ont be so dr)-, and wc can glorify our fore- m others as well as fathers.”

“ I ’ll see what I can find. Now spin away, M innie, an d sit still, boys.— if you can .”

T h en , lia id ng scttlcd G randm a’s foot-stool, and turned up the lam p, A u n t N ell read the tale of

4


O n the 20th clay o f M arch, 1775, a l i t t le girl ivas tru dg in g along a country road \vith a b.isket of eggs on her arm . She seem ed in a g rea t hurry , and looked anxiousiy about h e r as she w e n t; for those wcre stirring tim es, an d T ab ith a T arbell lived in a town tha t took a famous pa rt in the Rcvolution. She was a rosy-faced, bright-eyed lass o f fourteen, full o f vigor, courage, and patrio tism , and ju s t then m uch cxcited by tlie frequent rum ors which reachcd C oncord th a t the British were com ing to destroy the stores sen t the re for safe keep ing while the enem y occupicd Boston. T abby glowed w ith wrath a t the idea, an d (m etaphorically speak ing) shook h e r fist a t august K in g G corge, be ing a stanch little Relsel, ready to fight an d dic for h e r country ra th e r th an subm it to ty rann y o f any kind.

In nearly every house som eth ing valuable was bielden. Colonel Barrete h ad six barréis o f pow der; Ebcnezer H ubbard , six ty -c igh tbarre lso f flour; axcs,tents, an d spades were a t D aniel C ray’s ; an d C aptain D avid Brown h ad guns, cartridges, and musket balls. C annon were h idden in the w o o ds; firc- arm s were be in g m anufactu red a t B arre tt’s M ills; cartüuch-boxes, belts, an d holsters, a t R euben Brown’s ; sa ltpctre a t Josiah M elvin’s ; an d m uch oatm eal was prepared a t C aptain T im othy W heel- e r’s. A m orn in g gun was fired, a guard o f ten m en patrolled the town a t n igh t, an d the b rave farracrs were m ak ing read y for w hat they felt m ust come.

T h ere were T ories in the town who gave the enem y all the Inform ation they could g a th e r ; th e re fore, m uch caution was necessary in m aking plans, lest these enem ies should bc tray them . Pass-words were adopted , secret signáis used, an d m cssages sen t from house to house in a ll sorls o f queer ways. Such a m essage lay h idden u nd er the eggs in T abby’s basket, an d the b rave little g irl was going on an im po rtan t errancl from h e r únele, C aptain D avid Brown, to D eacon C yrus H osm er, who lived a t tho o ther end o f the tow n, by the Sou th Bridge. She h ad been cm ployed several tim es before in the sam e way, an d h ad proved herself quick-witted, s tou t-hearted , an d light-footed. Now, as she trot- ted along in her scarlet cloak an d hood, slic was wishing she could still fu rther d istinguish herself b y some g rea t ac t o f h c ro ism ; for good Parson Em erson h ad pa tted h e r on the h e ad an d said, “ W ell done, child ! ” w hen he h eard how she ran

all the way to C aptain B arre tt’s, in the n igh t, to warn him th a t D octor Lee, the T ory , h ad Ijecn detected sending Inform ation o f certain secret plans to the enemy.

“ I would do m ore th an tha t, though it was a fearsom e run th rough the d a rk woods. W ould n’t those two like to know all 1 know about tlie stores? But I would n ’t tell ’em , no t if they drove a bayonct th roug h m e. 1 ’m no t afearcd o f ’em ; " an d Tabby tossed her head defiantly, as she pauscd to shift h e r basket from one arm lo the o thcr.

B ut she evidently was “ afeared ” o f so m eth in ', for h e r ruddy cheeks tu rned palc an d her heait gave a thum p as two m en carne in sight, and stoppcd suddenly on seeing her. T hey wcie s tran g ers ; an d though no th in g in the ir dress in. dicated it, the giiTs qu ick eye saw th a t they weie soldiers; step and carriage be trayed it, and the rap id ity with w hich these m artia l gentUircn changed into quiet travelers roused h e r suspicicns a t once. T h ey exchanged a few w hispered words; then they carne on, swinging the ir stout sticks, one whistling, the o ther keep ing a keen lookout along the lonely road before and beh ind them.

“ M y p re tty lass, can you tell m e where Mr. D aniel Bliss liv e s?” asked the younger, with a sm ile an d a saluto.

T ab b y was sure now th a t they were B ritish ; for the voice was deep and full, an d the face a ruddy English face, and the m an Ütey w anted was a well- known T ory. B u t she showed no sign o f alarm beyond the m odest color in h e r cheeks, and answcred civilly : “ Yes, sir, over yonder a p iece.”

“ T hank s, an d a kiss for th a t,” said the young m an , stooping to bestow his gift. B ut he got a sm art box 011 the ear, an d T ab b y ran off in a fury o f indignation.- W ith a Iaugh they w ent on, never dream ing tliat the little R ebel was going to tu rn spy herself, and ge t the b e tter o f them . She h u rried away to Dca- con H osm er’s, and did h e r crrand , add ing thereto the ncws th a t strangers were in town. “ W c must know m ore of th em ,” said the Deacon. “ Clap a different suic on h e r, wife, an d send her with tlie eggs to Mrs. Bliss. W e have all we w ant o f them, an d T ab b y can look well about her, while she resis and gossips ovcr there . Bliss m ust be looked after sm artly , for h e is a knave, a n d will do us harm.


Away went T ab b y in a blue cloak and hood,itiuch pleased with h e r m issio n ; and, com ing tothe Tory’s house about noon sm elt afar off a savor>- odor o f roastiiig m eat and bak ing pies.

Stepping softly to the back-door, she peeped through a sm all window, a n d saw M rs. Bliss and her handm aid cooking away in the b ig kitchen, too busy to heed the little spy, who slipped around to the front o f th e house to tak e a general survey before she \vent in. A ll she saw confirm ed her suspicions; for in th e keeping-room a tab le was set forth in g rea t style, with the silver tankards, best china, an d the fine daraask tablo-cloth, which the housewife kep t for holidays. Still ano ther'peep th rough the lilac bushes before the parlorWindows showed her the two strangers closeted w ith Mr. Bliss, a ll ta lk ing earnestly, b u t in too low a tone for a word to reach even her sharp ears.

“ I tvill know what they are at. 1 ’m sure it is niischief, an d 1 w ont go back with only m y walk for my pa ins,” tho u g h t T ab b y ; and m arching into tlie kitchen, she p resen ted h e r eggs with a civil message from M adam Hosm er.

“ They are m ighty welcome, child. 1 ’ve used a sight for m y custards, and need m ore for the rtip. W e ’ve com pany to d in n er unexpected, and I ’m m uch pu t ab o u t,” said Mrs. Bliss, who seem ed ío he concerned about som eth ing besides the dinner, and in h e r flurry forgot to be surprised a t the imusual g if t ; for the neighbors shunn ed them , and tlie poor woman h ad m any anxieties 6n h e r husband’s account, the fam ily b e ing divided,— onc brother a T ory an d one a Rebel.

“ Can I help, m a’am ? I ’m a m aster h a n d at beating eggs, A u n t H itty says- I ’m tired , and would n ’t m ind s itting a b it if I ’m no t in the way,” said T abby , bound to discover som eth ing more before she left.

“ But you be in the way. W e d o n ’t w ant any help, so you ’d b e tte r be steppin’ along hom e, else suthin’ besides eggs m ay git w hipped. Tale- bearers are n ’t welcome h e re ,” said olcl P uah , the m.iid, a sour spinster, who sym pathized with her master, and openly declared she hoped the British would pu t down the Yankee rebels soon and sharply.

Mrs. Biiss 'vas in th e pan irj', and heard noth ing of this little passage o f a rm s; for T abby hotly resented the cp ithct o f “ ta lc -bearcr,” though she knew th a t tho raen in the parlor were no t the only spics on the prcm iscs.

“ W hen you aro al! d rum m cd ou t o f town and this liüuse b u rn t to the ground, you m ay lae glad of my help, and I wish you m ay ge t it. Good- day, oíd crab -apple,” answ ered saucy T abby ; and, oatching up her basket, she m arched ou t o f the kitchen 'vith her nose in th e air.

But as she passed the front o f the house, she could no t rcsist an o ther look a t the fine dinner ta b le ; for in those days fesv h ad tim e or heart for fcasling, an d the best napery an d china scldom appeared . One window stood open, and as the g irl leaned in, soraething m oved under the long cloth tha t swept the floor. I t was not the wind, for the M.arch day was still an d sunny, and in a m inute ou t popped a gray ca t’s h ead , and puss carne purring to m cct the new-comcr whose step h a d roused him from a nap.

“ W h ere one tabby liidcs another can. C an 1 daré to do it ? W h a t would becom e o f m e if found ou t? H ow wonderful it would be if 1 could hear what these m en aro plotting. I will.”

A sound in the nex t room decided h e r ; and, th rusting the basket am ong the bushes, she Icaped ligh tly in an d vanished under tho tab le, leaving puss calm ly w ashing h e r face on the window- sill.

A s soon as it was done T abby’s lica rt b egan to flu tter; b u t it was too late to re treat, for a t th a t momeuc in bustled M rs. Bliss, and the poor gir! could only m ake herself as sm all as possible, quite h idden un d er the long folds th a t fell on all sides from the wide, old-fashioned table. She dis- covei-ed no th ing from the wom cn’s ch at, for it ran on sage cheese, egg-nog, roast pork, and lam entations over a b u rn t pie. By the tim e d inn er was served, an d the guests called in to ea t it, T abby was calm enough to have all her 'vits about her, and pride gave h e r courage to b e ready for the consequences, w hatever they m igh t be.

F o r a tim e tlie hungry gentlem en were too busy ea ting to ta lk m u c h ; b u t when Mrs. Bliss w ent out, an d th e flip carne in, they were read )' for business. T h e 'vindow w.as shu t, w hereat Taljby cxulted th a t she was in side; the ta lkcrs drc 'v closer toge ther, an d spoke so low th a t she could only catch a sentence now and then , which caused her to pu lí h e r ha ir with vexation ; and they s'vove a good deal, to the great ho rro r o f the pious little m aiden cu iied up a t the ir fcet. B ut she heard enough to prove th a t she was r ig h t ; for these nicn were C aptain B rn w n and E nsig n D e Bernicre, o f the B ritish arm y, com e to learn 'vhere the supplics were stored and how well the tO'vn was defended. She heard Mr. Bliss te ll them th a t som e o f tire “ R ebels,” as he called his neighbors, h ad sent him w ord th a t he should no t leave the town alivc, and he was in m uch fear for his life an d property . She heard the E nglishm en tell h im th a t if he carne with them they 'vould p ro tec t h im ; for they were arm cd, and tlirec o f them toge ther could surcl)' ge t safel)' off, as no onc knew the strangers had arrived b u t the slip o f a girl wlio showed them


the way. H ere “ the slip o f a g ir l” nodded her head savagely, an d hoped tlje speaker’s ear still tingled with the Ijuffet she gave it.

M r. Bliss gladly consentcd to this plan and told them h e w ould show them the road to Lexington, which was a shortcr way to Boston tiran through W eston an d Sudbury, the road they carne.

“ T hese people w ont fight, will th e y ? ” asked Ensign D e Bernicre.

“ T h ere goes a m an who will fight you to the d e a th ,” answ ered Mr, Bliss, poin ting to his b ro ther T om , busy in a d is tan t field.

T h e E nsign swore again, and gave a stam p tha t b rought his heavy heel down on poor T ab b y ’s hand as slic leaned forward to catch every word. T he cruel blow nearly forced a cry from h e r ; bu t she b it h e r lips and never stirred , though faint with pain. W h en she could listen again , M r. Bliss was telling all he knew about the h id in g places o f the pow der, grain , an d cannon the enem y wislied to capture an d destroy. H e could no t tell m uch , for the sccrets h a d been well k e p t; b u t if he had know n th a t our young R ebel was tak ing notes of his words u nd er h is own tab le, he m igh t have been less ready to be tray his neighbors. N o onc sus- pected a listener, however, an d all T abby could do •was to scowl a t th ree pairs o f m uddy boots, and wish she were a m an th a t she m igh t fight the w eaiers o f them .

Slie very nearly h ad a chance to fight o r ñy ; for ju s t as th ey were p rcparing to leave the taljle a sudden snecze nearly u nd id her. She thought she was lost, and h id h e r face, expecting to be d ragg ed out to in s tan t death , perhaps, by ihc w rathful m en o f war.

“ W hat ’s t h a t ? ” exclaim cd the Ensign, as a sudden pause foliowed th a t fatal sound.

“ I t carne from und er the tab le ,” added C aptain Brown, and a h a n d lifted a córner o f the cloth.

A shiver w ent th rou g h T abby , and sbe heid her b rea th , with her eye upon th a t big, brow n h a n d ; b u t the nex t m om ent she could have lau ghed with joy, for pussy saved her. T h e ca t h a d com e to doze on her warm skirts, and w hen the clo th was raised , fancying h e was to be fed b y his m aster, Puss rose an d w alked ou t pu rrin g loudly, tail erect, w ith its whitc tip waving like a flag of truce.

“ ’T is b u t the oíd cat, gentlcm en. A good beast, and, fortunately for us, unable to report o u rco n - ference,” said M r. Bliss, witii an air o f relief, for he h ad sta rted guiltily a t the bare idea o f an eaves- dropper.

“ H e sneezed as if he were as great a snuff- tak c r as an oíd woman b f w hom we asked our way above h e re ,” lau ghed the E nsign, as they all rose.

“ A nd there she is now, com ing along as if our

gre.nadiers were after her ! ” exclaim ed the Captain , as the sound o f s teps an d a w ailing voice carne n earer an d nearer.

T abby took a lo n g b rea th , and vowed th a t she would b eg or buy the dear oíd cat th a t h ad saved h e r from destruction. T h e n she forgot h e r own dan ger in listening to the poor wom an, who carne in cry ing th a t h e r neighbors said she m ust Icavc town a t once, for they would ta r and feather a body for showing spics the road to a T o ry ’s housc.

“ W ell for m e 1 carne an d h eard the ir plots, or I m igh t be sen t off in like case ,” th o u g h t the girl, feeling th a t the m ore pcrils she encoim tered, the grca ter heroine she would be.

Mr. Bliss com forted the o íd soul, b idd ing her s tay there till the neighbors forgot her, and the ofñcers gave h e r some m oney to pay for the costly Service she had done them . T h en they left the room , an d after some delay th e th ree m en set off -, b u t TalDby was com pelled to stay in h e r hiding- place till the table was cleared, an d the women deep in gossip as they w ashed dishes in the kitchen. T h en the little spy crep t ou t softly, and raising the window with g rea t care, ran away as fast as her stiff lim bs would carry her.

By the tim e she reached the D eacon’s, however, an d to ld he r tale, the T ories were well on their way, Mr. Bliss having provided them with horses that his own flight m ig h t be the speedier.

So they escap ed ; b u t the w arn ingw as given, and T abby received grea t praise for h e r h ou r under the table. T h e towns-people hasten ed th e ir prepara- tions, an d h a d tim e to rcmove the m ost valuable stores to ne ighboring tow ns; to m ou n t the ir cannon an d drill th e ir m in u te-m en ; for these resoluto farm ers m ean t to rcsist oppression, an d the world knows how well they clid it when the h o u r carne.

Such an early spring h ad n o t been known for years; and by tb e ip th o f A pril fru it trees were in bloom , w inter grain was u p , an d the stately elins th a t fringcd the river an d overarchcd the villagc streets were budd ing fast. I t seem ed a pity that such a lovely world should b e d istu rbed by strifc , b u t liberty was dearer th an prosperity or peace, and the peo|fle leaped from their beds when young Dr. P rcsco tt carne, ricling for his life, w ith the message P au l R evere b ro u g h t from B oston in th e n ig h t:

“ A n n ! arm ’ the B ritish are com ing ! ”Like an electric sp ark the news ran fr o m housc

to house, an d m en m ade ready to fight, while tlic brave women b ade them go, an d did th e ir best to gu a rd the ireasure confided to the ir keeping. A little la ter, w ord carne th a t th e B ritish were at L exington, and blood h a d been shed. T hen the farm ers shouldered the ir guns with few words but s tcrn faces, an d by sunrise a h un d red m en stood ready w ith good Parson E m erson a t the ir head.


More m en were comLng in from the neigliboring towns, and all. felt th a t the h ou r had arrived when patience ceased to be a virtue and rebellion was j iist.

G reat was the excitem ent everyw here; b u t at Captain D avid B row n’s one littie h ea rt beat high with hope an d fear as T abb y stood a t the door, looking across the river to the tow n, where drum s were beating , bells ringing , an d people hurry ing to and fro.

“ I can’t fight, bu t 1 must see,” she sa id ; and catching up h e r cloak, she ran over the N orth Bridge, prom ising h e r au n t to re tu rn an d b rin g her word as soon as the encm y appeared .

“ W hat new s— are they co m in g ?” calied the people from the M anse an d th e few houses tha t then stood along th a t road. B ut T ab b y could only shake her head and run the faster in h e r eagerness lo see w hat was happen ing on th a t m em orable day. When she reachcd the m iddle o f th e tow n she found th a t the little com pany h ad gone along the Loxington road to n ieet the enem y. N oth ing daunted, she h u rried in th a t direction an d , climb- ing a h igh bank , w aited to catch a glim pse o f the British g renad iers , o f w hom she h a d heard so much.

About seven o’clock they carne, the sun glittering on the arm s o f e ig h t h u n d red E nglish soldiers marching toward ihe hun dred stout-heartedfarm ers, who waited till th ey tvere within a few rods o f them .

“ Let US stand our g ro u n d ; and i f we die, let us dic here,” said b rave Parson Em erson, still am ong his people, ready for any th in g b u t surrender.

“ N ay,” said a cautious L incoln m an, “ it will noc do for us to begin the w ar.”

So they reluctantly fell back to the town, the British following slowly, b e ing w eary with their scven-raile m ai'ch over the hills from Lexington. Coming to a little brown house perched on the hill- sidc, OTic of the th irsty officers spied a well, with the bucket sw inging a t the end o f the long pole. Rimning up the bank, h e was alsout to drink, when a girl, who was crouching beh ind the well, sprang up, and wiíh an energetic gesture, flung the water in his face, c ry in g :

“ T h at ’s the th e way wc serve spies ! ”Before Ensign D e Bernicre — for it was he, acting

as guide to the en em y — could clear his eyes and dry his drenched face, T ab b y was gone over the hil! with a laugh an d a defiant gesture tow ard the red-coats bclow.

In high feather a t th is exploit, she d a rted about the town, w atching the B ritish a t th e ir w ork of dcstruction. T h ey cu t down and b u rn t the liberty pole, broke open sixty barréis o f flour, flung five hundred pounds o f balls into the m ill-pond and "■ells, and set the court-house on fire. O ther par-

ties were ordered to different quartcrs o f the town to ransack houses an d destroy all the stores they found. C aptain Parsons was sen t to take possession o f the N orth B ridge, an d D e B ernicre led the way, for he h ad taken notes on his form er visit, an d was a good guide. As they m arched, a little scarlct figure w ent flying on before them , and vanished a t the tu rn o f the road. I t was T abby hasten ing hom e to wavn her aunt.

“ Q uick child, whip on th is gown and cap and h u rry in to bed. T hese p ry ing fellows will surely have p ity on a sick girl, an d respect th is room if no o ther,” said Mrs. Brown, briskly h e lp in gT ab b y into a short night-gow n an d round cap, and tuck- ing h e r well up when she was laid down, for b e tween the p lum p feather beds were h idden m any m uskets, the m ost precious o f the ir stores. This h ad been planned beforehand, and T abby was g lad to rest and te ll h e r tale whilc A unty Brown p u t physic bottles an d glasscs on the tab le, set some cvil-sm elling herbs to sim m cr on the hearth , and, com prom ising with h e r conscience, concocted a nice little story to te ll the invadcrs.

Presently they carne, and it was well for T abby th a t the E nsign rem ained below to guard the doors while th e m en ransacked the house from ga rrc t to cellar, for h e m igh t have recognized th e saucy girl who h ad twice m altreated him.

“ T hese are fca th e rs ; lift the covers carefully or you ’ll be h a lf sm othcred, they fly about so ,” said M rs. Brown, as the m en carne to som e casks of cartridges an d flints, which she h ad artfully lúpped up several pillows to conceal.

Quite deceived, the men gladly passed on, leaving the very th ings they m ost wanted to destroy. C om ing to the bed-room , where m ore treasures of the sam e valuable sort were hidden in various nooks and corners, the dam e held up h e r finger, saying, with an anxious glancc tow ard T abby :

“ Step softly, please. You would n’t h a rm a poor, sick girl. T h e doctor th inks it is small-pox, an d a fright m igh t kill her. I keep th e cham ber as fresh as I can with yarbs, so I guess there is n ’t m uch dan ger o f catching it.”

T h e m en reluctantly looked in, saw a flushed face on the pillnw (for T ab b y was red with running, and h e r b lack eyes wild with excitem ent), took a sniff a t the worinwood and m otherw ort, and w ith a hasty glance into a closet o r two where sundry clothes concealed h iddcn doors, hastily re- tired to report the dan ger an d ge t away as soon as possible.

T hey would have been m uch disgusted a t the trick played upon them if they h ad seen the sick g iii fly ou t o f bed and dance a j ig o f joy as they tram ped aw ay to B arre tt’s Mills. B ut soon T abby had no h ea rt for m errim ent as she w atched the


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in inu ie-m en ga ther by the briclge, saw th e B ritish m arch down on the o ther side, and w hen th e ir first volley killed brave Isaac Uavis and A bncr H osm er, o f A cton, she heard M ajor B uttrick give the order, “ F ire , fellow-soldiers; for G od’s sake, fire ! ”

F o r a little while shots rang , sinoke rose, sliouts were heard , and red an d blue coats m ing led in the struggle on the bridge. T h en the B ritish fell back, leaving two dead soldicrs beh ind them . T hese w ere bu ried where they fell; anclthebodies o f the A cton m en were sen t hom e to th e ir poor wives, C oncord’s first m artyrs for libcrty.

N o need to te ll m ore o f the story of th a t

Bliss was confiscatcd by governm ent, Som e things were sold a t auction, and C aptain Brown bought the fine cloth an d gave i t to T abby , saying h e a rtily ;

“ T h ere , m y girl, th a t belongs to you, and yon m ay well be pi oud o f i t ; for thanks to your quick wits an d eyes an d ears we w ere no t taken unawares. b u t sen t the red-coats back faster th a n they carne. ’

d a y ; all c h i l d r e n know it, an d m any have m ade a pilgrim -

age to see th e oíd m on um en t set u p where the E nglish fell, an d the bronze M inutc-M an, s tand in g on his granile pedestal to m ark the spot -where the bravo C oncord farm ers fired tho shot th a t m ade the oíd N orth B ridge immort-il.

W c m ust follow T abby , and tell how she got h e r table-cloth. W hen th e fight was over, the dead buried , the w oundcd carcd for, and the pris- oners oxchangcd, th e T ories wcrc punishcd. Dr. Lee was confined to his own fan n on penalty of be ing sho t if h e left it, an d the property of Daniel

A nd T ab b y w as proud o f it, k eep ing it caiefully, displaying it w ith im m ense satisfaction when sbc told the story, an d sp inn ing busily to m ake a s<‘t o f napkins to go w ith it. I t covered the tabk- wlicn h e r w cddtng supper was spread, was usod a t the cliristcning o f h e r first Ijoy, an d for man)' a T hanksg iv ing an d C hristm as d inn er through tlic hap p y years o f h e r m arried life.

T h e n it was prcser\’ed b y h e r daughters as a relie o f the ir m othcr’s youth, an d long after the olci woman was gone, the wcll-wurn cloth still appeared on grea t occasions, til) it grew too thin for anj- th in g Ijut careful keeping, to illustraCe the story so proudly tokl by th e grandchild rcn , who found it h a rd to believe th a t the fcelíle oíd lady of iiinety could be the lively lass who playcd bcr little pait in the Rcvohition with such spirit.


In 18 6 1, T a b b y ’s talile-cloth saw another war, and made an honorable end. W h en m en were called for, Concord responded “ I-Icrc ! ” and sent a güodly number, led b y another bravo Colonel Prescott. Barretts, H osm crs, M elvins, Browns, and W heelers stood shoulder to shoulder, as their grandfathers stood that day to m eet the British b y the bridge. Mothers said, “ G o, m y son,” as biavely as before, and sisters and sweethearts smiled' with w et eyes as the boys in blue m arched away again, cheered on b y anotlier noble Em erson. More than one of T a b b y ’s descendants went, some to fight, some to n u rse ; and for four long years the oíd town worked and waited, hoped and prayed, burying the dear dead boys sent home, iiur’sing those who brought b ack honorable wounds, and sending more to m an the breadles made by the awful battles tbat filled both N orth and South with a wilderness o f graves.

T h e women knit and sewcd, Sundays as well as week days, to supply the cali for clo th es; the mea em pticd their pockets freely, glad to give, and the rainister, after preaching like a Christian soldier, took off his coat and packed boxcs of comforts like a tender father.

“ More lint and bandages called for, and 1 do believe w e 've torn and picked up every oíd rag in the town,” said one busy lad y to another, as several sat together m aking comfort-bags in the third year o f the long struggle.

“ I have cleared m y garret o f nearly everything in it, and only wish 1 had more to give,” answered one of the patriotic Barrete mothers.

“ W e can’ t b u y anything so soft and good as worn-out sliccts and table-cloths. N ew ones wont do, or I ’d cut up every one o f m ine,” said a newly married W h celer, sewing for dear life, as she re- raembered the m any eousins gone to the war.

“ I think I shall have to give our Revolutionary tablc-cloth. It ’ s oíd enough, and soff as silk, and 1 ’m sure m y blessed grandraother would think that it could n ’t m ake a better end,” spoke up whitc-hcaded M adam H ubbard, for T ab b y Tarbell had married one o f that numerous and worthy race.

“ Oh, you would n ’t cut up that famous cloth, would you ? ” cried the younger woman.

“ Yes, 1 will, It ’s in v ^ s , and when I ’m gone no one will care for it. Folks don’t seem to remember what the women did in those days, so it ’s no use keeping relies o f ’c m ,” answered the oíd lady, who would have owncd herself mistaken if she could have looked forward to 18 76 , when the town celcbrated its ccntcnnial, and proudly exhibited the litilc scissors with which M rs. Barrctt cut p ap er'fo r cartridges, am ong other ancient trophies o f that carlicr day.

So the ancient clotlr was carefiiliy made inlo a box-full o f the finest lint and softest squares to la y on wounds, and sent to one o f the Concord women who had gone as a nurse.

“ H ere ’s a treasure ! ” she said, as she carne to it am ong othcr comforts newiy an ived from home. “ Ju st what I w ant for m y brave R ebel and poor little Joh nn y Bullavd.”

T h e “ brave R e b e l” was a Southern m an who had fought well and was badly wounded in many w ays, yet never com plaincd; and in the m idst of great suffering was always so courteous, paticnt, and courageous, that the men called him “ our gentlenian,” and tried to show how much they rcspected so gallant a foe. Joh n Bullard was an English drum m er boy, who had been through several battles, stoutly dnnnraing aw ay in spite o f bullets and cannon-balls; cheering maii)' a cam p- fire -with his voice, for he san g like a blackbird, and was always m crr)’, always plucky, and so great a favorite in his regiment, tliat all mourned for “ little Joh nn y ” when his right arm was shot off at Gettysburg. It was thought he would die ; l)ut be pulled through ih c worst o f it, and was slowly struggling back to health, still trying to be gay, and beginning to chirp íeebly now and then, like a convalescent bird.

“ H ere, Johnny, is some splendid lint for this poor arm , and some of the softest compresses foi- CarroTs wound. H e is asleep, so I ’ ll begin with you, and while 1 work 1 ’ll amuse you with the story o f the oíd tablc-cloth this lint carne from ,” said N urse M ay, as she stood b y ih c bed where the thin, white face smiled al her, though the boy dreaded the hard quarter o f an hour he h ad to endure every daj’.

“ T h an k y, mum. W e ’avc n ’ t ’ad a story for a good bit. 1 ’m ’artj' this inornin’, and think I ’ll be liup b y this d ay week, wont I ? ”

“ Ih o p e so . N o w sh ut your cycs and listen i then you wont m ind the twinges I give you, gentle as I try to b e ,” answered the nurse, beginning her pain- ful task.

Then she told the story o f Tablsy’s table-cloth, and the boy enjoycd it im m cnsely, laugliing out at the slapping and the throwing water in the ensign’s face, and openly rcjoicing when the red-coats got the worst o f it.

“ A s we ’ve beatcn all the rest o f the world, 1 don’t mind our ’aving bad liick that tim e. W e b ar’ friends now, and I ’ll figlit for you, m um , like a British bull-dog, if I hever get the chance,” said Johnny, when the tale and dressing svere endcd.

“ So you shall. 1 like to turn a b ra v e ,cn cm y into a faithful friend, as I hope wc shall yet be ablc to do with our Southern brothers. I adm ire their courage and tlieir loyalty to w hat they believe to b e


r ig h t ; and we are all suffering the punishment we deserve for waiting till this sad war carne, instead o f settling the trouble years ago, as we m ight have done if we had lovcd honcsty and honor more than m oney and power.”

A s she spoke, M iss H unt turned to her other patient, and saw by the expression o f his face that he had heard both the tale and the talk. H e smiled, and said, “ Good m orning,” as usual, but when she stooped to la y a compress o f the soft, wet dam ask on the angry wound in his breast, he whispered, with a grateful look ;

“ You have changed one ‘ Southern broth er' from an enem y into a friend. W h eth er I live or die, I never can forget how gcnerous and kind you have all been to m e.”

“ T h a n k y o u ! T t is worth months o f anxiety and care to hear such words. L et us shake hands,

and do our best to make N ortli and South as good fríends as En glan d and A m erica now are,” said the nurse, offering her hand.

“ M e, too ! I ’ve got one 'and left, and 1 give it ye with all me ’art. G od bless )'e, sir, and a lively getting hup for the two o f us I ” cried Johnny, strctching across the narrow space that'divided the beds, with a beam ing face and true English readi- ness to forgive a fallen foe when he had proved a bravo one.

T h e three hands m et in a w arm sliakc, and the act was a little lesson m ore eloquent than words to the lookers-on; for the spirit o f brotherhood that should bind us all together worked the m irade o f linking these three b y the frail threads spun a century ago.

So T a b b y ’s lable-cloth did make a beautiful and useful end at last.

D R I F T I N G .

B y E . V i n t o n B l a k e .

O h , the winds were all a-blowing down the blue, blue sky, A n d the tide was outward flowing, and the rushes flitted b y ;

A li the liiics scem ’d to qtiiver On the fair and dimpled river,

A ll the west was golden r e d ;W e were children four togetlier,In the pleasant autumn weather,

A n d m errily down we sped.


Oh, the town behind us faded in the palé, palo gray,A s we left the rivcr shaded, and we drifted down the b a y ;

A n d across the harbor bar,W h ere the hungry breakers are,—

Y o u and G race, and T o m and I ,—T o the Golden Land, with laughter,W h ere w c ’d live in peace thercafter,

Ju st beyond the golden sky.

Oh, the winds were chilly growing o’er the gray, gray sea,W h en a white-winged bark carne blowing o’er the billows oit our lee.

Cried the skipper, all a-svonder:“ M crcy on us ! over yonder—

B ear a hand, m y lads, with me —F o u r young children all together,In this pleasant evening weather,

G o a-drifting out to s e a ! ”

A ll our prayers were unavailing, all our fond, fond hopes,F o r our Golden Land h ad vanished with its fair and blooming slopes

A s the skipper, with loud laughter,Tow ed our little shallop after,—

H om eward, b y the drcary bay.F a st our childish lears were flowing,Chill the western wind w as blowing,

A n d the gold had turned to gray.

T O M Y V A L E N T I N E , A G E D O N E .

B y R . T .

I W ILL n o t s p e a k o f “ p a n g s s in c e r e ,”O f “ lo ve s” and “ d o ves” b y poets su n g; Since you are still a triflo young

To understand such things, m y d e a r ;—

B ut only ask you “ to be m in e”T ill he, who, some day, is to win Y o u r love,— (the young scam p ! ) — shall step in

A n d claim you for his Valentine.


S T O R I E S O F A R T A N D A R T I S T S - — F O U R T E E N T H P A P E R . .

B y C l a r a E r s k i n e C l e m e n t .

P a i n t i n ü i n G e r m a n y .

T h e Enipcroi- C harles IV ., o f G erm any, who i cignod from 1348 to 1378, was a g rea t lover and patrón of th e F ine A rts, an d in F ragüe, the capital of Bohem ia, a school aróse un d er h is care which is im portant in the h istory o f a rt, since from it w hat is called G erm án ai-t m ay b e dated . W e know th a t the E inperor was very libera l an d em ployed Italian artists, as well as those from all pa rts of G erm any, lo work in his favorite F rag ü e ; b u t so little is known o f the lives o f th e earliest m asters o r o f the anthorship o f the few pieces of ancien t pain ting idiich rem ain , th a t I shall no t a ttem p t to te ll you anything about them .

T h ere were o th e r early schools o f pa in ting a t Cologne, Colm ar, U lm , A ugsburg, W estphalia , and N u rem burg . I shall te ll you o f the g rea t m aster of the la tte r sch oo l; b u t, before speak ing of him, I shall say som eth ing o f N u rem b urg itself, which was a very im po rtan t p lace d u rin g the fifteenth an d six teen th centuries, an d is still a c ity of great in terest lo travelers.

N u rem burg was a place o f consideration even in the tim e of the E m pero r H enry IV ., who ennobled thirty-eiglit fam ilies there. In 1219, H enry V. raised it to the ran k o f a free im perial city, an d during the middle ages it was very im portan t on account o f its enormous traffic betw een tlic g rea t sca-port of Venice an d th e countries o f the E ast, an d all north- crn Europe. T h ro u g h its com m erce it becam e a very rich city, and its burghers established m anu- factories o f various sorts, and so b u ilt up its trade that skillful artisans flocked there , an d m any discov- cries were m ade w hich still have a g rea t influence in tlie world.

T he first papcr-m ill in G erm any was in N urem burg, and K oberger’s printing-liouse, with its twenty-four presscs, was so attractivc to au thors th a t they settled a t N u rem burg in o rder the m ore con- veniently to oversee tlic p rin tin g o f the ir works.W atches, called “ N urem burg E g g s ,” w ere first made about 1500; the clarionet was invcnted there, and church organs vvere b e tte r m ade than in any other G erm án town. A new com position o f lirass, the air-gun, and w ire-dvaw ing m acliinery were all N u rem burg devices. T h e filigree silver and gold w ork,— the m edals, im ages, seáis an d other artistic jew elry which were m ade by the fifty m aster goldsmiths who dw elt thcre ,— werc fam ous far and wide; an d th is variety o f m anufactures was in-

• C o p y r i g h i , 1881 , b y C la r a E r s k in e C le r a e m .

creased .by H irschvogel, an artisan who traveled in i ta ly and learned to m ake m ajolica. H isfactory , established a t N urem burg in 1507, was the fii-st in a ll G erm any in which such ware was m ade. I t is no t ce rta in th a t piaying-cards wcre invented in N urem burg , b u t they vvere m anufactured there as early as 1380, an d cam ión were east there in 1356 ; previous to th is they liad been m ade o f iron bars soldered toge ther lengtliw ise an d held in |jlace by hoops. In short, the m anufacturéis o f N urem burg were so widely known as to give rise to a proverb,

“ Nurem burg’s hand,Goes through cvcry la iíd ” ;

an d thus the city liad the sort of im portance which success an d w ealth bring to a person or a place.

B ut as th is im portance is no t the h ighest and best th a t can be gained, so it was n o t the m ost lasting im portance o f N urem burg, for a ll this com m ercial an d m oneyed prosperity was lo s t ; bu t the fam e which th e city acquired on accoun t o f its literary m en, its artists, and the ir works, still re m ains. I will n o t speak here o f the au thors and schülars o f the oíd c i ty ; b u t o f its artists som eth ing m ust be said.

A t the cióse of the fifteenth and the beg inn ing of the sixteenth century, besides Alliert D ürer, there were P c te r V ischer and his five sons, sculptors and bronze ca s te rs ; A dam K rafñ, sc u lp to r ; Veit Stoss, a wonderful vvood-carver, an d a goodly com pany o f painters and cngravers wliosc works and ñam es are still adm ired an d respected. W hen we consider all these advantages th a t N urem burg enjoyed, we do no t th ink it s trange th a t she should have been called th e “ G othic A thens.”

D ürer’s tim e was an in te resting onc in the histo ry o f Europe, or, we m ay say, o f the world. He was b o rn twenty-one years liefore C olunibus discovcred Am erica. In his day, too, Vasco di G am a sailed the soiilhern s e a s ; Copernicus wrotc o f his observations and discoveries, and all E urope was deeply ag ita ted by the preaching o f th e Reform a- tion b y M artin Lutlicr. M en o f th ou gh t and power werc cverywhere discussing g rea t q u estio n s ; the genius o f invention was a c tiv e ; the love o f the beautiful was indulged, an d the general vvealtli an d prosperity o f E urope supported the artists and encouraged them to strive for g rea t atta inm ents.

D ürer was the friend o f G ian Bellini, o f Raphael, Q uintín M atsys, Lucas van Leyden, an d m any o ther artists, as well as o f m any people in high

A II nghts rcscrved.

: ÜAyuntamiento de Madrid

position in all parts of G erm any, and in some o ther countries ; an d if he did no t actually found a new school o f a rt, he certain ly perfected th a t which already existed in his country ¡ and since h e was not only a pain ter, an arch itect, sculptor, b u t engraver, an d w riter upon art, his influence upon his tim e an d nation can scarcely be over- estim ated.

A l b e r t D ü r e r

W as born a t N u rem burg in 1471. H is fa ther was a m aster goldsm ith, an d h ad eighteen children born to h im — seven daughters and eleven sons. W e can understand 'how he m ust have toiled to care for all these ch ild ren ; an d besides the toil he h ad grea t sorrows, for fifteen children died. T h ree sons only, A lbert, A ndreas, and H ans, reached m a tu re age. T h e portraits w hich A lbert pain ted o f his fa ther show so serious an d worn a face, th a t one sees in them the m arks his strugglcs h a d left. W e also know th a t he was a m an m uch respectad ; for thou gh he was b u t a craftsm an, he was honored by the fricndship o f prom inent m en, and the famous K oberger was godfather to the baby Albert.

O ne o f th e advantages th a t the you ng A lbert h ad as a resu lt o f his fa ther’s position, was an association with W illibald P irkheim er, who was about his own age an d o f a rich an d patrician fam ily. T h ro u g h th is fricndship, A lb ert saw som eth ing o f a m ore refined life th an th a t in his father’s house, and was also able to lea rn certa in th ings, in which W illibald’s tu to rs instructed h im , th a t were no t tau g h t to th e sons o f artisans. A m ong other writings, A lbert D ü rer m ade a h isto ry o f his fam ily, in which, speak ing o f his father, he said :

" H e h a d m a n y r r o i i b k s , t r iá is , a n d a d v e r s e c i r c u m s ta n c e s . B u t

y e t f r o m e v e r y o n e w h o k n e w h im h e r e c c iv c c l p r a is e , b e c a u s e h e

l e d a n h o n o r a b le C h r is l ia n l i f e , a n d w a s p a t ie n t , g i v i n g a h m e n

c o n s id c r a t io n . a n d t h a n k in g G o d . * • M y d e a r f a t h e r l o o k

g r e a t p a in s w í t h h is c h i ld r e n , b r i n g i n g th e m u p l o t h e h o n o r o f G o d .

H e m a d e u s k n o w w h a t w a s a g r e e a b le t o o th e r s , a s w e l l a s t o o u t

M a k c r , s o l l i a t w e m i g h t b e c o m e g o o d n e i g h b o r s ; a n d e v e r y d a y

h e l a lk e d t o u s o f th e s e th in g s , th e l o v e o f G o d , a n d t h e c o n d u c t

o f U fe . ”

F rom his earlicst years A lbert D ü rer lovcd d raw ing, an d there are sketches in existence jnade w hen h e was a m ere ch ild ; thc rc is a p o rtra it of h im self in the A lbertina a t V icnna, upon which is w ritten , “ T his 1 have draw n from m yself from the looking-glass, in th e year 1484, when I was still a child.— A l b e r t D ü r e r . ” T h e expression o f tiic face is s a d ; it was pa in ted in the same year th a t his father took him in to h is workshop, in tend ing to m ake a goldsm ith o f him . Doubtless, th e train ing which h e received hcrc was to his advantage, an d gave h im the wonderful delicacy an d accuracy o f execution w hich h e showed in his la te r works. H e writes o f th is tim e ;

" B u t m y l o v e w a s t o w a r d p a ín t in g , m u c h m o r e th a n t o w a r d th e

g o ld s m i t h ’ s c r a f l . W h e n a t la s t I l o ld m y fa th e r o f m y in cU n a t lo n ,

h e w a s n o t w e l l p le a s e d , t h in k in g o f i h e l i m e 1 h a d b e e n u n d e r h ím

a s lo .» t i f I tu r n e d a p a in te r . But h e l e f t m e to h a v e m y w i L ; and

in ih e y c a t 1486 , o n S t . A o d r e w ’ s D a y , h e s e i t l e d m e a p p re n t íc c

w i l h M i c l i a e l W o h l g e m u i h , t o s e r v e h im f o r th r e e y e a r s . I n ih a t

t im e G o d g a v e m e d i i i g e n c e t o le a r n w e l l , in s p í i e o f t h e p a in s I h ad

t o s u f fe r f r o m t h e o t h e r y o u n g m e n . ”

T his last sentence doubtless refers to rudeness and jee rin g from his com panions, to w hich he was quite unaccustom ed. T h e a rt o f his m aster was not o f a h ig h order, an d we do u b t if A lbert Dürer lea rned an y th in g from h im beyond the mechanical proccsses, such as the m ixing o f colors an d facility in using his brush . B ut in his walks ab ou t Nurera- b u rg he was alw ays see ing som eth ing th a t helped him to form h im self as an artist. N u rem bu rg still re tains its an tique beau ty , an d m uch o f it remains as he saw i t ; there are narrow streets, with quaint houses, gablc-roofed, with arched portáis an d mull- ioned Windows; splendid G othic churches are there, rich in ex ternal arch itecture, and containing ex- quisite carvings an d Byzantine pictures ; it.has palaces an d m ansions inhab ited to-day by families whose kn ig h tly ancestors b u ilt them centiiries ago. T h e C astlc, o r Reichsveste, bu ilt on a rock, wiih its three towcrs, seem s to be keep ing watch over the country a ro u n d ; whilo the city walls, with their num erous tu rrets, and th e four arched gate-ways w ith the ir lofty watch-tow ers give the whole place an air o f g rea t an tiquity , and m ake even tho m atter-of-fact traveler o f to-day indulge in fanciful dream s o f the long ago, in which D ü rer walked those streets, and fed his rich fancy by gazing on those sam e beauties o f N atu re , A rch itecture, and Art.

I t is probable th a t in W ohlgem uth’s studio Diircr did little b u t apprentice work on the master's pictures. A t a ll events, very few of his own drau- ings o f th a t tim e exist. In 1490 h e painted a portra it o f his father, now in F lorence, w'hich was rarely , perhaps never, suvpassed by him in his la te r years. T h e apprcnticesh ip ended, Dürer travcled an d studied four years,— a tim e of which we have very little accurate know ledge,— and in 1494 h e settled h im self as a p a in ter and engraver in his native city.

In the sam e year, D ürer was m arried to Agnes F rey . I t would seem , from his own words in bis d iary , th a t the m atch was m ade by the parcnts of the young people. I t has often been said that she was a g rea t scold and m ade him vc ryu nhap py ; b u t m ore recent and careful research shows that th is story rcsts upon very sligh t foundation, and no th ing in D ü rer’s own w ritings would indícate any unhappiness in his hom e. A gnes D ü rer was a very handsorac woman ; b u t, thou gh several portraits a re called ljy h e r nam c, we have no positive knowl-


edge th at h e r h u sb an d e v e r m ad e a p o rtra it o f her.U w as in th e sam e y e a r (14 9 4 ) o f h is settiem cn t and in arria g e th at h e w as m ad e a m em b er o f the gu ild o f p a in ters at N u re m b u rg . T h u s , w hen tw enty-three y e a rs o íd , h e h a d stu d ied , m ade his studen t’s jo u rn e y , an d w as h o n o rab ly estab - Ushed in h is n ative city.

A lb e rt D ü re r is m ore fam ou s a n d m o re w id ely known as a n e n g ra v e r th a n as a pa in ter. H is first • copper-pláte e n g ra v in g w as m ad e in 14 9 7 , an d from that tim e h e execu tcd n u m ero u s w o rk s o f th is k in d . , T h e first im p ressions fro m h is e a r ly e n g ra v in g s are now so u g h t w ith g re a t eagern ess b y connoisseurs and collectors. O ne o f th e first w as “ S t . Je to in e ’s P en an ce ,” a g o od im p ressio n o f w h ich was so ld a few yea rs ag o fo r five h u n d red d o llars. In 149S D ürer p u b lish ed h is first series o f w ood-cuts illus- trating th e A p o c a ly p se o f S t . Jo h n . T h e se cuts niarked a n ew e ra in wood en g ra v in g , an d show ed what p o ssib ilities it con tain ed . B efo re th is tim e it had b e e n a ru d c art, ch ic fly u sed b y uned ucated m onks. T h e re are one h u n d red an d seven ty-fou r wood-cuts a ttr ib u te d to D ü re r. T h e o th er im portant se rie s a re th e “ G re a t an d L it t le P a ss io n ,” show ing th e su ffe rin g s o f C h rist , an d th e “ L ife o f th e V i r g in . ”

T h e re h a s b e e n m u ch d ispute a t vario u s tim es as to w h eth er th e m astcr execu ted h is p lates w ith his own h a n d s ; it w ould seem to b e th e m o st reason- able conclusión th at h e d id th e w o rk h im se lf upon his earliest p lates , b u t th at, la te r , h e m u st h ave allow ed h is assistan ts to p crfo rm th e m ech an ica l labor a fte r h is designs.

M an y o f D ü re r ’s e n g ra v in g s w ou ld seem very ugly to y o u ; a n d , in d eed , to m a n y w ell-tra in ed critics th ere is litt le to ad m ire in h is su b jects or his mode o f p re se n tin g th em . H e often ch ose such scenes as rem in d u s o n ly o f d e a th , sorrow , an d sin. A ga in , ■ h is g ro tcsq u e an d fan tastic h u m o r was sh ow n ; an d n o th in g m ore w lld an d u n u su a l could be im ag in ed th an som e o f his fan c ics w h ich he raade a lm ost im m o rta l th ro u g h h is g re a t artistic power. A woocl-cut ca llc d th e “ T v iu m p h a l A rc h o f M a x im ilia n ” is tw o an d a h a lf fe e t h ig h and nine fe e t w ide ; it w as com posed o f n inety-tw o blocks, an d a ll th e rom ark ab lo even ts in the E m p ero r’s life are illu strated in it, a s w e ll as m an y sym bolical figu res an d p ictu res cxpiessi\-e o f his praise, n o b ility , an d pow er.

It is sa id ih a t , w h ilc th is e n g ra v in g was b e in g finishcd b y th e e n g ra v e r R o sc h , th e E m p e ro r drove often to see it. On one occasion se ve ra l o f R o sch ’s pet cats ra n into th e p resen cc o f th e so vcrc ig n , and from this inc id en t aróse th e p roverb , “ A c a t m ay iook at a k in g .”

O f his co p p cr-p la te e n g ra v in g s , som e o f the m ore im po rtan t a re “ T h e N a tiv ity .” “ T h e G re a t

an d th e L itt le H o rse ,” “ M cla n ch o ly ,” an d “ T h e K ii ig lu a n d D e a th .” T h e la st is ih e m ost celebrated o f a ll, an d no onc ca n say e x a c t ly w h at it m eans. It show s a k n ig h t in fu ll pan op ly , w ho r id e s th rough a i-ocky defile — S a ta n is p u rsu in g h im an d clutch- in g a fte r h im , w h ile D e a th is at h is side an d holds up an hou r-g lass. So m e in te rp re té is s a y th at the K n ig h t is a w ick ed one, whom Satan ow ns, an d D eath w arn s to re p e n t; o th ers g ive th e K n ig h t a ñ am e, an d severa l m en o f th e tim e a re m cntioned as b e in g in D ü re r ’s m in d ; an d som e say th a t he stan d s for D ü re r h im se lf, w hen overeóm e b y tem p- tation an d fear. B u t le t it m ean w h at it m a y , it is a w o n d erfu l w o rk , an d K iig le r s a y s ; “ I b e lieve I do not e x a g g e ra te w h en I particu larize th is print as th e m ost im p o rtan t w ork w hich ih e fantastic sp irit o f G e rm á n a r t h a s ever pro d u ced .”

I t h a s b een s a id th at D ü rer inventad th e proccss o f e tc h in g ; it is m ore probab le th at h e perfected an o lder d isco very ; v e ry few o f his ctch i.igs rem ain in existen ce.

A s a scu lp tor, D ü rer execu ted som e rem ark ab le w orks in iv o ry ,b o x w o o d , an d sto n e; he a lso d esig n ed som e exce llcn t m edals. In th e B rit ish M useum th ere is a re lie f, seven an d a h a lf b y five an d a h a lf inches in size, w h ich w as bough t ab o u t e ig h ty years ag o for two th ousand five h u n d red dollars. I t is in crcam -co lored stone, an d rcp resen ts the b irth o f S t . Jo h n th e B a p tis t. I t w as execu tcd in 1 5 10 , an d is v e ry rem arIcable fo r its cxq u isite dctail, w h ich w as dou btless a rcsu lt o f h is e a r ly train in g as a g o ld sm ith , w h en h e lea rn ed to do v e ry exact an d d e lica te w ork. H is cai v in g s are seen in va rious p laces in E u ro p e , an d pvove th at h e m igh t h av e su cceed ed as a scu lp tor h a d h e cliosen th at profession.

B esid es h is fa m ily h istory an d d iary , D ü re r wrote som e p o ctry , b u t nonc o f im portan ce. H is first noticeab le litc rary w ork w as “ T h e A r t o f M ensura- tio n ,” w h ich w as publish ed in 15 2 5 1 ^.nd w as a suc- ccssfu l book. H e also w rotc “ So m e Instruction in th e F o rtifica tio n o f C id e s , C a stic s , an d T o w n s ,” b u t h is gi-eatest ach ievem cn t as a w riter was the • “ F o u r B o o k s o f H u m an P ro p o rt io n .” I t was not p u b lish ed u ntil a fte r h is d eath , an d its im portance is show n b y th e fact tlia t it passed th rou gh severa l G e rm á n editions, besid es th ree in L a tín , an d two each in Ita lia n , F re n c h , P o riiig u e sc , D u tch , and E n g lish . H e w rote, too, upon arch itcctu re , m usic, a n d vario u s dep artm en ts o f |5ainting, such as color, la n d sc a p c , an d so on.

A s an arch itcct, we can s a y b u t little o f D ü rer ; fo r w h ile h is w ritin gs prove th at h e h a d a good k n o w led ge o f a rch itectu re , h e execu ted but fetv w orks in th at d ep artm en t o f a rt, an d w c h ave sligh t k n o w led g e o f th ese. I t rcm ain s o n ly to sp e a k o f h is p a in tin gs, w hich are not n u m erou s, b u t still


exist in gallcries in various pa rts o f E urope. M any ó f them are portraits, the finest o f wlvich still rem ains. in N urem burg , thoiigh enorm ous sums have been offered for it. I t r'epresents Jerom c HoUschuher, who was a reraarkably strong m an in ch aractc r; it was pa in ted in 1526, and retains its rich, vivid coloi'ing. H is portraits o f liis fnthcr and o f him self are very interesting , and all his works of tliis sort are strong, rich picturcs. A m ong his religioiis picturcs the “ F east o f Rose G a rlan ds” is very prom incnt. I t was pa in ted in Venice, in the yeat 1306. D ü rer worked seven m o n thso n this picture, an d by it contradicted those who h ad said th a t “ he was a good engraver, b u t knew no l how to deal with colors.” I t b roug h t h im grea t fame, an d was soid from tho church where it was oiigi- nally placed to the E m peror R udolf I I ., who had it borne on m en’s shoulders from Venice to P rague, in o rder to avoid the injuries which m igh t com e from o ther modcs o f rem oving it. In 1782, it was sold by Joseph I I . , an d has since been in the m onastery o f Strabow, a t P ra g u e ; it h a s been m uch restorcd an d is seriously injured. In the background, on the righ t, are the figures o f D ürer and P irkheim cr, who rem aincd the friend o f his age as o f his childhood.

A n earlier w ork is tl\e “ Adoration o f the K in p ,” in the T rib une o f the Uffizi, a t F lo ren ce ; th is is one of his best paintings. T he years from 1507 to 1526 wcre the m ost fruitful o f good w ork in the life o f th is m aster, an d in 1526 he pain ted two pictures which, for some reasons, are th e m ost in teresting o f all he did. T hey were th e resu lt of his best thou gh t, and m ay be called th e first com plete w ork o f a r t produced by Protcstantism . They represen t the A postles Jo hn and P ete r, M ark and Paul. H e pu t upon them inscriptions from the Gospels and the E pistles, u rg ing the dan ger of departing from the W o rd o f God or believing in false p roph cts; an d the figures, bearing the Script- u ies in the ir hands, seem to be the faithful guar- dians o f G od’s law.

T h ere is an oíd traclition th a t these figures represent the F o u r T em peram en ts: thus, in the first,. St. P e te r with a hoary h ead an d reposeful air, bend- ing over th e book in the h ands o f St. John, rcprc- sents the phlcgm atic tem peram cnt, ever tranquil in its reflcctioDs;— St. John, w ith his earnest, thoughtfu l face stands for the m elancholic tcm per- a inent, which pushes its inquiries to the profoiind- est dep ths ;— these two represen t the inw ard life, th a t from which comes conviction. In the second picture theeffect o f th is upon ac tionan d daily life is sh ow n : St. M ark, in the background, re|3resents the sangnine tem peram ent ¡ he looks around appealing ly an d hopcfiiliy, as if u rg ing o thers to search the Scrip tures for the sam e good which he

has found in thc-m ; while St. P au l stands in front bearing the book and the sword, looking scverely over his shoulder, as if ready to defcnd the W ord an d punisli b y the sword any who should show it d isrespect: h e stands for the cholerío tem peram cnt.

T hese two pictures are executed in a m asterly m an n er— there is a sublim ity of expression in them , a m ajestic repose and perfect sim plicity in the m oveinent, and in the folds of the drapery — all is in keeping. T ho color, too, is warm and true to n a tn re ; no touch o f the fantastic is f e l t ; in these pictures, A lbert D ü rer reached the sum m it of his power an d stood on a p lañe with the g rea t m asters of the world.

W hen they wcre com pleted, D ü rer presented them to the council o f N u rem burg as a remem- brance of h im self as an arti.st, an d as teacliing his fellow-citizens an earnest lesson as was suited to the storm y tim e in which they lived. T h e council, accepted th e gift, placed the pictures in the council house and sen t a p resen t o f m oney to D ürer an d his wife. A cen tury la te r, th e Elector M axim ilian o f B avaiia determ incd to have these panels a t an y c o s t; h e b rib ed and th iea tened , and a t last the council o f N u rem burg , afraid o f his anger, sen t the pictures to M unich after having copies m ade by Joh n Fischer, upon which were placed the orig inal inscriptions, as it was th ou gh t best to cu t them off from D ü rcr’s own work, lest the\- should not please a C atholic Prince. So it happened th a t tile origináis are in the M unich gallery. an d the copies in the tow n pic tu re gallery now in the R ath hau s o f N urem burg.

1 shall no t s tay to describe m ore o f his paintings, for 1 wish to resum e the account o f D ü rer’s life. A s staiod, it was in 1494 th a t h e m arried an d settled in his native city. A b ou t 1500, W illibald P irkheim cr re tu rned from m ilitary servicc and re- newed his friendship w ith D ürer. A t h is house the artis t m e t m any em inent m e n — scholars and reform crs; an d while he was adm ired an d appreci- ated for his own genius an d accom plishm eqts, he h im self gained m uch g rca ter and b e tte r knowledge o f the world in th is society than his previous narrow life h a d given him.

In 1502, D ürer’s father died and the son quaintly an d tendcrly re la ted the closing scenes o f the oltl m an ’s life, and m ourned his own loss. W ith in the nex t two years D ürer took his m other and his youngest b ro th e r to his own hom e, while his b ro th e r A ndreas was thiis left free to go on a studen t journcy as a gnldsm ith.

In 1505, after several years o f continuous indus- try , D ürer m ade a journey to Venice ; he arrived there when Giovanni Bellini was the leader o f the V enetían artists and C arpaccio was pain ting his


A L B E R T D Ü R E R .

A F T P.R T H E P O R T R A IT B V H IM S E L F IN T H E U F F U Z Í Ü A L L S R Y , FLO RP-N CE.

VoL. XI. — ig.


ftp://FTP.R

pictures of St, U rsula. T itian an d G iorgione were th en becom ing m ore an d m ore fam ous, and before D ürer left th e ir city he was cm ployed at the sam e tim e w ith th em in pain ting for the F on- daco de í ’Tcdeschi, o r th e com pany of G erm ans in Venice. T h e le tte rs which D ürer wrote a t this tim e to his friend P irkhcim er are o f m uch in te re s t; d u rin g the Thivty Y ears' W a r in G erm any, these le ttera were w alled up in the Im hoff m ansión, and were discovcred a t a m uch la te r time.

I t is said th a t Bellini was m uch pleascd with D ü rer’s pain ting , especially w ith his m anner of reprosen ting ha ir. O nc day h e begged the G erm án to give him the brush which he used for i t ; upon th is, D ü rer took one o f his com m on b rushes and pain ted a long tress o f wom an’s ha ir, while Bellini looked on adm iring ly an d declared th a t h ad he no t seen it he could no t have believed it. D ürer wrote o f the kindncss ho received from gentle- m en , b u t said th a t th e artists were no t so favorable to h im . H e was very sensitive to tlicir criticism s ; an d w hen he h a d finished his R ose G arlands, wrote th a t the D oge»and the P atriarch h a d been to his studio to see i t ; th a t h e h ad contradicted those who said th a t he could no t use colors, an d added, “ T h ere is n o 'b e tte r picturc o f tho V irg in M ary in the land , because all the artists p raise it, as well as th e nobility. T h ey say they have never seen a m ore sublim e, a m ore ch arm ing p a in tin g .”

Pivkheim er was constantly u rg in g D ürer to retu rn lióm e, an d A gnes D ü rer was very im happy a t the long abscnce o f h e r husband. T h e artist d readed his retu rn . He said, “ O h. how I shall freeze after th is sunshinc ! H ere , 1 am a gentle- m a n — a t hom e, only a parasite ! ” H e was forced to refuse m any com m issions th a t were offered him , as well as a governm ent pensión o f two liundred d u ca ts ; b u t he th o u g h t it his du ty to re tu rn to N urem burg . O n his way, h e visited B ologna; and th rough pictures which h e left there, R aphael’s at- ten tion was tu rn ed to him in such a m an ner th a t an in tím ate correspondence an d an exchange of pictures occurred betw een h im a n d D ürer. It was a fortúnate th in g for the in te rest o f pa in ting th a t D ürer d id no t rem ain in I ta ly ; h ad he done so, he would, w ithout doubt, have modificd his s trik ing individuality , an d his s tren g th and qua in tness would have been lost to G erm án art.

F rom 1507, D ü rer was th e tcach er of m any studen ts in pa in ting an d engraving, an d his studio was a hive o f busy workracn. D u ring this tim e the a rtis t was a t the lic ig h t o f his productivcness, and w orked a t p a in ting , engraving, and c a rv in g ; during sevcn years from th is da te , besides his pictures, h e m ade m ore th an a h u n d red wood-cuts and forty- eight engravings an d ctchings. T hese last were very salable. T h e religious excitem ent o f the time

m ade a g rea t dem and for his en g ra v in g s 'o f the Passion, th e V irgin a n d S ain ts; and his income was so increased as to enable h im to live very com fortably.

In 1509, D ürer finished the “ Coronation o f the Vii'gin ” for the m erchant, H eller. I t was an importan t picture, now know n only by a copy at N u rem burg , as the original was b u rned in the palace a t M unich ab o u t 1673. T here was some dispute about the price, two hundred fiorins, and D ü rer wrote to H eller, “ I should becom e a beggar by th is m e a n s ; henccforw ard I will stick to my engrav ing ; and, if I h ad done so before, 1 should he richer by a thousand fiorins th an I am to-day.” T h is seem s to explain the reason o f h is cuts lieing so m uch m ore num erous th a n his paintings.

T h e house in which D ü rer lived is now pre- scrved as public p roperty in N urem burg . I t is occupied by a society o f artists, who guard it from in ju ry ; an d a S tree t w hich passes it is callcd Albert D ü rer's Street. H ere he lived in m uch comfort, thou gh no t luxury, as we m ay know from a memorándum w hich he wrote before liis death , iii w hich he s a id ;

“ E e g a r d i n g th e b e lu n g i i i g s 1 h s v e a m a s s e d b y m y o w n h a m l¡

w o r k , I h a v e n o i h a d a g r c a t c h a n c o t o b e c o m e r ic h , a n d h a v e had

p le n t y o f l o s s e s ; h a v in g l e n t w i t h o u t b e i n g r e p a id , a n d m y w o r t -

•m en h a v e n o t r o c k o n e d w i t h m e ; a ls o m y a g e n t a t R o m c d ie d , a frc r

n s in g u p m y p r o p e r t y . * * ' S t i l l , w e h a v e g o o d h o u s e fu ra U li-

i n g , c l o ih in g , c o s t l y t h in g s in e a r t h e n w a r c . p r o fe s s io n a l f it l in g s -u p ,

b e d - fu m is h in g s , c h e s ts , a n d c a b in e l s ; a n d m y s t o c k o f c o lo r s i .

w o r i h o n e h u n d r e d g iü d e n s . ”

In 1512, D u re r was first em ployed b y the Emperor M axim ilian, wliose life was p ictu red in the g re a tp r in t of the “ T riu ir" h a l A rch .” I t is said that th is sovereign m ade D ü rer a noble ; and we kno« h e g ran ted the artis t a pensión o f two hundred dollars a year, which was no t always prompih' paid. D ürer related th a t, nne day, whcn he was w orking on a sketch for th e E m peror, his Majesty tried to m ake a draw ing him self, u sing a charcoal- crayon ; b u t he h ad great trouble on account of its b reak ing , an d com plained th a t h e could do nothing with it. T h e artist took the crayon from his hand, saying, “ T his is m y sceptre, your M ajesty,” and then tau g h t the sovereign how to use it.

O f th e d ea th o f his m other D ürer wrote a particu lar account, from which I give an e x tra c t:

" N o w y o u m u s t k n o w th a t in th e y e a r i s t j , o n “ T u e s d a y m

C t o í s - w e e k , m y p o o r , u n h a p p y in o ih e v , w h o m I h a d u k e n u n d er

m y c h a r g e t w o y e a r s a f t e r m y fa th e r 's d e a ih , b e c a u s e s h e w a s Ih e "

q u i t e p o o r , a n d w h o h a d l i v e d w i t h m e f o r n in c y e a r s , w a s taken

d e a ih l y s i c k o n o n e m o i n i n g e a r ly , s o t h a t w e h . id t o 'n '^ n k o p e n c r

r o o m ; f o r w e k n e w n o t , a s s h e c o u ld n o t g c t u p , w h a t 10 d o .

A n d h e r c u s to m w a s t o g o o f t e n l o c h u r c h ; a n d s h e a lw a y s p u m s ii

m e w h e n I d id n o t a c t r i g h t l y ; a n d s h e a lw a y s t o o k g r e a t c a re o

k e e p m e a n d m y b r o th e r s f r o m s i n ; a n d w h e t h e r I w e n t i n c r o e ,

h e r c o n s t a n t w o r d w a s , ‘ I n t h e ñ a m e o f C h r i s t ' : a n d w ic h p

d i l i g e n c e s h e c o n s t a n t ly g a v e u s h o l y e x h o r t a i i o j i s , a n d h a d g r e

c a r e o v e r o u r s o u ls . ”


She lived still a year, and the artis t w ro te ;„ , for her oral hsd g « = ' S '^ 'f ^

. - * 4 n d s h e w a s s ix ty - th r e c years oíd when she died,

''■4 1 huried her honorably, according lo m y means. * 'X ad in her dealh she looked srill more lo ve ly than she was in her

IS20, D iirer, w ith his wife and h e r m aid, Siisanna, m ade th e tou r of the N ethcrlands. H is

ST GEOROE AND THE D. 'iOK. (SROM A SVOCD-ENCIRAVING BY ALBERT DVREB.)

they desired lo honor me w ith ihis, and ihat I should have iheir good .w ill. * ' ' And fot a lon g lim e we were v e ry merry logeiher, until quite laie in the n igh t; then they accorapanied us- hom e with torches in the most honorable manner, and they begged US 10 acccpt their gnod-wlll, and said they rvoidd do whatever 1 desired that m ight be o f assUtance to me.

W hile a t A ntw erp, D iirer m e t m any notable people, an d painted some p o r tra its ; he also sold m any engravings, an d aJl h is.business m atters are recordcd in his jonv nal T h e Portnguesc cónsul sen t a large quan tity o f sweetm eais an d a green p a rro t to A gnes Diirer, and h e r husband in rcturn presented the cónsul with several score o f engravings. I t would be a curious th in g to knuw where these prin ts are now, an d we wonder how m uch the cónsul tiren pvizcd w hat would now be o f such great valué. H e w ent to Brussels with Tom asin F lorianus, and was thcre en tertaincd with g rea t honors, an d was well received by the R egen t M avgaret, who prom ised to in terest herself in his b eh a lf a t the im perial coiirt. O f this visit he w ro te ;

" A n d 1 have seen K in g Charles’s hnusc at Brussels, with its fountams, labyrinth, and paik. I t gave m e the greatest p k asu re ; and a more delightfu l thing, and more like a paradise, 1 have never before seen. ' ’ ” A t Brussels, thcre i.s u town hall, built o f hewns to n e w i t h a splendid tcaitsparenttowcr. * > * I also have been

inte the Nassau house, which is built in such a oos ily style and so beautifully ornamented. And I S.-.W the lw o heautilul U rge rüoms, and all the costly things in ih c house everywhere, and also the

great bed in which f.tty men m ight l ie ; 1b ig stone which fell in a ihunder-storm 11. a field. * A lso Ih L seen the th ing which has been brought to the Kung from the new Golden l-and (M e m o ) , a sun o f go ld a fatliom broad, and a s.lvor moon ju st as b ig 1 -ikcwlse, tw oroom s full o f urmor; hkewise, all kinds o f arms, harncss, and wonderfn! miss,les v e ry strange doth.ng, bed-gear, and all kind o f tho most wonderful th in ^ for man s «s e ,ih a i f r e as b e a u t i f u l to b e h o l d as t h e y are wonderful. Ih cso things

are all so costly. that they have been valuad a t . 00, ^ . gulden_ And I have never, in a ll the days o f m y I.Ce, seen anyd i.ng that has so

much rejoiced my heart as these things. t o r I have Sthem w oaderfu lly artistic things, and I have wondered at the subtle

talents o f men in foreign lands."

principal object in th is journey was to sec tho new 'emperor, C harles V ,, an d obtain a confirraation of the pensión w hich M axim ilian h a d g ran ted him and, if possible, the ap po in tm en t o f court-painter also. This tou r was m ade w hen there was great wealth and prosperity all th ro ug h th e Low Couu- trics, and D iirer’s Journal was filled with wonder at the prosperity an d m agnificence which he saw.

At Antwerp h e m e t O uintin M atsys, o f whom we have already spoken, an d o ther F leraish painters, and write s :

“ On Sl Oswaid'fi D a y , ihe paim ers ín v iicd m e to their hall, wuh my wire and m aid : and everyth ing, ihere, was o f silver and

other costly ornamentaiion, and cxirem cly costly viands. I h ^ wetc also their wWes there; and whcii I w as conducted lo ihc table, all the people stood iip on each side, as i f I had been a great lord. There were amongst them also many per«ons o f distmction, who all bowcd low, and ín the m ost hiimble manner tesiified their

pleasüre at seeing me, and ib ey said they wonld do all in ihcir power to g ive me pleasüre. And , a « I sa i at table, there caioc m the me&senger o f ilie Ravh o f Antiverp , who presented m e w iih four lanlcards o fw ln e ín the namc o f the m aglitrates; and he said that

I m ust m ake onc m ore quotation from his Journal, whicli describes a brilUant scene ;

1 =aw a grcai p ro o e «io o from Our L.-tdyU Church at Am w crp , when the whole town was .-.stcmblcd. arttaans and people o í c v c y rank. eve ry one dreased ia the m o « costly manitcr aooordm g 10 hts tratión E very cUsa and cvcry guHd had tu. badgc, b y wh.ch tt m igh t b e rccog ith cd ; large and costly tapers werc also borne 1^ some o f them. Th cre wcre also lon g stiver trompeta o f the oíd Fr.ankiah fashion. T h e re were also many Germán pipera and drtimmers, who piped and drummed thctr loudcst. A lso I saw tn tho Street, marchlng in a liñ e in regular order, with ccrlail, dtatanoea between. the goldsmiths, painters, stone-masons, embtoiderers,

sculptors, joiners, carpenters, sailors, fish-m.tngers, .w iM t o d s o f artisans who are useful ia producías U.e neccssartes ofliCe In the samo w ay there were the shopkecpcra and merchants, aud their clerks. A fte r these carne ihc murksmen, wtlh fire toks , bows, and cross-bows; some on hnrseback, and som eoa foot A fror that canto the C ity Gnards; and at last a m .ghty ^ d beaunful Ihrong o f different nations and rchgious ordets, supetbly cosiuined,

and each dls.inguished fr e n the o,her very p iou s ly I in this procession a iroop o f w idow s who bved b y Iheir labor. T lte y a ll bad white lincn clnths covering their heads, and reaching

down to their feet, very «ecm ly lo behold. Behind them I saw many brave persons, and the canors o f Our Lady s Church, all


T H E N A T IV JT V - (FA C «»1M ILIÍ ü P A C O P P R R -I'L A T E E N G R A VIN O m ' A L B E R T D C R E R .)


Ihe d e ig y and bnrsars*. ^ * * Th ere w ere brought alongmany wagons, w iih m ovin g ships, and other things. T h en ibl- lowed ihc Prophets, a ll in order; the N ow Testan ien i, show ing the Salaulion o f the A n g e l; iho three H o ly K in g s on their caniels, and other rarc wondets very beauiifully atranged. * * ' A t the last carne a great dragón, led b y S i. M arga re i and her maidens, who were very p re tty ; also St. G eorge, w ith his squire, a ve ry hand- someCoiirlanderf. A lso a g tea t many boys and girls, drossed in the most costly and om am enial manner, accord ing to the fcsliion o f diflerent countries, rodé in this troop, and represented as many sainis. This procession from beginning to end was m ote ihan two hoars pasáng by onr house; and thete were so many th ings that I could never write them all down, evcn in a boolc, and so I leave it

alune."

U is very curious to no te how m uch th e grand processions o f two h un d red and fifty years ago in Antwerp resem bled those we see now on grea t oc- cüsions there.

Dürer went to A ix-la-C hapclleandw itnessed the coronation o f the E m p ero r C harles V. and saw all the relies and the w onders o f th is cap ita l o f C har- lemagne. H e next visited Cologne, an d a t last, in November, he succeeded in a tta in ing the object for which, first o f all, he h ad m ade his journey , which was the confinnation by the E m peror o f the pensión which M axim ilian h a d g ran ted h im an d his apimintraent as court-painter. H e re tu rned to Antwerp and m ade several o ther excursions, one of which was to Zealand, a province o f Holland bordering on the N orth Sea, to see a wliale which had been stranded o h th e coast, b u t before D ürer reached the place the tide h ad carried the huge creature to sea again.

And so the jou rna l continúes to give accounts of sight-seeings and pleasurings, in terrup ted a t tim es by some work a t his profession. H e also records his expenses, tho gifts, too, which he m ade and those he received, un til finally he retu rned to Nu- reinburg late in the year 1521.

Two very famous m en h ad died while he was travcling, M artin L utlier and R aphael. D ürer tried hard to get some draw ings b y the g rea t artist, and we do not know tvhether o r not he succeeded. The notes in his jou rna l a t the tim e o f Lu- ther’s death are .yery in te resting an d prove th a t he had much sym pathy with P rotcstaiits, a lthough it is believed th a t he rem ained a R oraan Catholic all his life. H e wrote :

“ H e was a man eiiUght«nc<l b y the H o ly Ghost and a fo llow cro f Ihe truc Chrisfian faiih. H e has suífered much for Christ’ s sake and because he has rebuked ih e unchrisriau papacy which strívcs against the frcedoin o f Christ tvich its heavy burdeos o í human laws;

* iievcr iverc any people so hornbly biirdened w ith ordinances « US poor pcople by the R o m ls h see; ♦ • • O God, is Luihur dead? who will Hcnceforth explain to us so clcarly the H o ly Cospel ? O all pious Christian meo, bcwail w ith m e this God-ínsplred man, and pray God to send us another enlightcned tcacher.”

W hen Dürer reached hom e he found th a t a great religious change h ad occurred th e re , an d during the rest o f his life h e m ade no m ore pictures of

the Virgin M ary ; lie m ade two engravings of St. C hristophei bearing the child Jesús safely th rough the floods, as sym bols o f his bclief th a t faithful m en would carry tru e C hristianity througii a ll troubles and bring it out trium ph an t a t last. N urem burg was the first free im perial city o f tlte E m pire th a t declared itself P ro tc s ta n t; D ürer’s friend, P irkheim er, was one o f those whom tho Pope excom m unicatcd. I t is most- fortúnate th a t the change of religión in th is grand oíd town was m ade so quietly an d m oderately th a t there was no destruction o f the churches or o f the art-treasures in which it was so rich. M any o f them rem ain there to th is day.

D ürer h ad contracted a discasc in Zealand, which seem s to have been a sort of low fe v e r ; it under- m ined his hcalth an d never left him for the rest of h is life, an d on account o f th is he did m uch less work than ever before. H e paid m uch a tte n tio n to the publislü iig o f his writings, and m ade a few portra its an d the grand pictures o f the Apostles which I have dcscribed to you.

One o f th e results o f his forcign tou r afforded m uch cn terta inm en t to his friends an d to the scholars of N u re m b u rg ; lie had b roug h t liom c a rem arkable coilection o f curiosities — all sorts of rare th ings from various pa its o f E urope, India, an d even from Am erica. H e also .gave to his friends m any presents th a t he h ad b roug h t for th e in ; and his retu rn , with his coinm ission as court- p a in ter and an enorm ous am ount o f curious lug- gage, m ade h im a person of m uch consequence in th e F ranconian capital. C harles V . sp en t very little tim e in N urem burg an d practically -required sm all Service fi-om D ü re r; it was n o t un til after D ü rer’s death th a t the E m peror becam e so fond o f hav ing his portrait pain ted , an d th en T itian held the position which h ad been m ade vacant by D ürer’s decease.

D ü rer d id no t becom e rich, an d an ex tract from a le tte r which he wrote to the Council o f N urem b u rg , in 1524, has a sad feeling in it. A fter ex- plaining th a t he liad laid by onc thousand fiorins, which he wish%d the Council to tak e and pay liim a com fortable ra te o f interest, he s a y s :

“ Y ou r W iíidoms kiiow ihat I have always hecn obedient, w illing, and d iligen l In a ll things done fo r ynur W isdom s and for ihe com mon State, and for othcr persons o í ihe R a ih (Council), and ihat the State has always had m y help, art, adid work, whcnever they were needed, and that w ithout paym cnt rather üian for m on ey ; for I can w riie w itli vruth, that, during the ih in y years that I have had a house in this town, I have not had five hundred guldcns' worih o f work fro ni it, and what I have had has been poor and mean, and i have not gaíned the fifth part for íc that it was worth ; but all that 1 have cam ed, which G od knows has on ly been by hard loil, has been from princes, lords, and other forcígn persons« A lso , I have expended all m y eam ings from fo iclgncrs ín lhis town. A lso, your H onors doubtless know that, on account o f the many w orks I

• Bursars w ere treastirers or cash*keepers o f colleges o r convents. t Cotirland ís one o f the Balde pravinces o f R u « ia , large! y ¡nhabitcd b y Germans.


had done for him , the late Em pcror M axirailian, o f praisewonhy memory, out o f i i is own imperial liberality, granted m e an exemption from the' ratea and laxes o f this town, which, however, I voluniarily gave up, when I was spoken to about it b y th e E ld e is o f the B.ith, in order lo show lionor to m y Lords, and to mainUiin their favor and

uphold their customs ondjuslice."N in e te e n years ago ihe D oga o fV en ic e w roie lo me, oflering

mo tw o hundred duoals a y ea r i f T would live in that city . M ote lately the R ath o f A n lw crp , while I remained m the L o w Coiintnes, also made m e an offcr, ihree hundred florins o f Ph ilippea year and a feir mansión to Uve in. In hoth places a ll that I d id fo r the govem - m cnt wou ld have heen pa id over and above the pensión. A l l o f which, out o f my lo ve for m y honorable .and ivisc Lords, for ihis town.

1528, exactly e ig h t years from the d ay on which R aphael h a d died. H e was buried in the church- yard o f St. John , beyond the walls, in the lot of his father-in-law , H ans F rcy. T h is church-yard is o f g rea t in te re s t; the aristocrats o f N urem burg have been buried th e re d u ring m any years. I t has thirty-fivc hundred grave-stones, a ll o f which are n um bered ; an d nearly a ll are decorated with coats- of-anns and such devices as show the importancc o f those buried here . D ü rer’s m onum ent bears

I T I T

R P I N O G E K / Ss

T H E R H I N O C E a O S . (F R O M

tmd for m y fatherland, I refusod. and chose rather to live simply, near you rW isdom s, than 10 be rich and grca i m a n y ottier place. I t is, thercfore, m y duiiful requcsl lo your Ixirdships, that you wiu lake all these things into your favorable coiisideration, and = 'vep t theso thous.and florins, and grani m e a yca rly interest upon inem oí

fifty florins, so that 1 and m y wife, who are da ily grow ing ola, weak, and iucnpable, may have a modérate p r o v i s i ó n against want. A n d I w ill ever do m y utmost tn dcserve your noble W isdom s lavor

and approbation, asherotofore."

T h e Council g ran ted his requo st; b u t after his death they rcduced the in terest to forty florins a year, a lthough in 1526 D ü rer h ad presented to them his splendid pancls o f the A posües. This m eanness in raoncy m atters towrnd the g rea t artist alm ost reconciles us to the fact th a t these pictures were taken away to Munich.

D ürer died suddenly a t last, on the 6 th o f A pril,

W O O D - E N C R A V I N G B V A V B E R T D O R E R .)

th is sim ple inscription, w ritten by his friend Pirkheim er:

• 'M r A l . D u O u ic o u iB A l b e r t i U U b e r i M o r t a u e F i it , S IIB H o c C titiD iT U Jt T um ltlo . E s i io r a v it V I H . I d u s A p r iu s ,

M D X X V I l l . A . D . ’ ’

—W hich m ay be transla tcd :“ In memory o f A lbert Dürer. W hatever was

D iirc r is laid under this stone. H e dcpaiied the eighth day the Id es o f April, in tlie y c a r o t our Lord 1528 .

I t is said th a t R aphael, when he h ad studicd D ürer’s engravings, excla im ed :

“ O f a In ith this man would have surpassed us all i f he the masierpicoes o f art constantiy before his eyes, as we have.John A n d tL s wrote o f him ; “ U is v e ry surpns.ng, tn r ^ r d to * a . man, that in a rude and barbarous age he was .he first o f t ^ ^ mans w lio not on ly arrived al an cx.act im iiation o f nature, likew ise le ft n o second ; being so ahsolulely a master o f ,t m a,lAyuntamiento de Madrid

S T O R . I E S O F A R T A N D A R T I S T S .

• ..chine- eneraving, s la luaiy, atchiteclurc, optics, sym. d.h“ r e " f - t L h e h a d noaqu a l « « p t M ichael Angelo

B^ón^roT^ S : conUmporary and rival; and he left behind hrm suoh

works aa were too muoh for the life o f one man.

On E aster Sunday in 1828, three hun dred years •ifter his death , there was a tribu te paid to his memory, and a g rea t procession o f artis ts and scholars from all pa rts o f G erm any was form ed in Nurem burg, an d m oved ou t to the church-yard of St. lohn, where they sang such hym ns above the grave of the artis t as he loved to h ea r in his life. There can be no th ing m ore appropriate with which to cióse our study o f A lb ert D ü rer th an the poem of our own poet, Longfellow * ;In ihe va lley o f che Pegnita, w here across broad meadow-lands Rise the blue Fcanconiau mountains, Nui-emburg, the ancient,

fttands.

Quaint oíd town o f lo il and. ttaiTic, quaint oíd low n o f arl and

Memorias haunt .h y pointed gables, like the rooks that round

them throng ;

Memories o f the M idd le A ges , when the emperors, rough and boid,

Had their dw eiling in th y castle, nm e-defym g, oentunes o íd .

And thy brave and ih riíty burghere hoasled, in their uncoulh

That their great, im peiial c ity stretched itshand through eve ry clime.

In the court-yard o f iheoa.stle, bound w ith numy an iron hand, Siands the m ighty linden planted b y Queen Cunigunde’s hand;

On the square the orie l w indow , where in oíd, heroic days Sai the poet M elchior singing K a iser M axim ilian ’ s praise.

Everywhere I see around m e rise the wondrotis w orld o f A n : Fountabs w iough l w ith riohest sculpiure standing in the common

inart;

And above cathedral doorways saints and bishops catved in stone, By 2 formcr age coincnissioned as aposúcs to otir own.

In the church o f sainted Sebald slccps enshrined his h S irdü st, A n d in bronse the T w e lv e Apostles guard &om age to a ge thc.r

tru st;

In the church o i sainted Lawrence stands a p ix o f aculptitre tare, L ik e the toamy sheaf o í fouiiiains, rising iltrough the painted air.

H ere, when A r t was süll religión, w ith a simple, reverent heart, L ived and laboted A lbrecht D iirer, the Evaitgelist o f A n ;

H enee in silence and in sotrow, lo iling still w ith bnsy band,L ik e an em igrant he wandcred, seeking for the Better Land.

E m ig r a v i t is the inscripiion on tho lombsione where he lies ; D ead he is not, but dopaned,— for the artist never dies.

T h e fo llow ing is a llst o f the principal works b y A lb en D urer to

be seen in European ga llerics :

ACCADEMIA CAiiSAitA, BuitCAMO t Chtist Boaiing the Cross. P iT T i G a l l e r y , F l o r e n c e ; Adam and E vo . U r f i z z i G a l l e e s , F l o r e n c e ; Portra it o f an O íd M an, St. James the Apestie, Mu. donna, Adoration o f the K ings, C a p í t o l M us e u m , K o m e ; A Portrait T r i p p e n h u i s M u s e u m , A n t w e r p ; Portra it o f 1 irK- heimer. G a l l e r y a t C a s s e l ; Portra it o fa M an holding a W i^ t h c f Roses. D r e s c e n G a l l e r y ; Chtist on the Cross, Chnst Bear,

in g the Cross, P o n re ii o f Bernhard de Kcssen. S t a d e l G a l l e r v , F r a n k .=o r t ; P o rtm ito f his Father, Portrait o f a Ctrl. P i n a k o t h e k ,

M u n ich • S ix fine Portraits, T h e N a t.v ity , l w o Panels, w ith the

Apostles John and Peter, and Paul and Mark.N u re m b u rg ; F in e P o r t r a ito t th e Burgomaster. Holaschuhet. G a l L E R V IN TH E M o r i t z - K a i ' E l l e , N u R E M D U R C I Ecce Hom o. B e l

VEDERE, V ie n n a ; Portrait o f Maximüian ’T w o Madonnas, T h e H o ly T r in ity Sn rrou nd^ by

Persia Perseoiu ing Chrislians. R ^ d S mH is own Porlrait. L o u v r e , P a r í s ; M an 's H ead w.th a R e d ^ ^ N a t i o n a l G a l l e r y , L o n d o n : Portro ii o f a Senator.

S t r a i i o f M o n a s t e r y : Feast o f the RoseAGE, S t . P s t e r b b v r c ; Chrisi led lo Calvary, Chrtst Bearing

H is Cross, Portrait o f the E lector o f Saxony.

Thero are other pictures attributod to D iire r in some ^

those known lo b eD ú reP s work is sm a ll-p to b a b ly not more than

one hundred and fifteen in all.

Th ese stansas from I.ongfe lloW s poem are here printed by kind perm isión o f Messrs. Houghton, M ifilin . Co.

F L O W E R S O F W I N T E R .( A Vak7ilÍHe.)

B y E m i l i e P o u l s s o n .

I n sum m er days w hen passing by A garden liedge o f roses,I said, “ A h m e ! the w in ter drear No bloom like th is d iscloses! ’’

B u t w in ter ca rn e; an d when the w ind A ll frosty, keen was blowing,I m e t each m orn a little m aid ,W ith cheeks so redly glow ing;

I said, “ W h y ! here again 1 find T h e roses I lam en ted !A nd sum m er flowers no m ore regret, W ith w in ter’s bloom co n ten ted .”


P H A E T O N .

B v C. P . C r a n c h .EFORE Copernicus and o thers proved

T h e S u n stood still, an d ’t was th e E a r th th a t moved,

Phcebus Apollo, as a ll freshm cn know,W as the Sun’s coachm an. T his was long ago. Across the sky from cast to wcst all day H e drove, b u t took no passengers o r pay.A splendid team it w a s ; an d there was nono B ut lie, could drive th is chariot o f th e Sun. T h e world ivas safe so long as in his hand H e held th e reins an d k ep t suprem e com m and.

But Phcebus had a wild, conceited son,A rash and lively you th , nam ed Phaeton ,

W ho used to watch h is father m ount his car A nd w hirl th ro ug h space like a g rea t shoo ting-star; And tho u g h t w hat fun ’t would be , could he contrive Som e day to m ou nt th a t ca r and tak e a drive !

T h e inischief o f it was, Apollo lovedT h e boy so well th a t once his h ea rt was movedT o prom ise h im w hatever he m igh t ask.H e never tho u gh t how ha rd would be the task T o kcep his word. So, one day, Phaeton Said to his sire, “ I ’d like to drive your S u n — T h a t is, m yself— d ear sir, excuse the p u n ,—

'itIII-I

A


P H A E T O N . 2 8 9 1

W ELV E hours th roug h space. You know you prom ised once

W hatever I m igh t ask .”“ I was a dunce,”

A pollo said. “ M y foolish love for you,I fear, m y son, th a t 1 shall sadly rué.L end you m y chario t? N o ; — I really can’t. Is n’t there som eth ing else th a t I can gran t Instead o f th is? A serious th in g ’t would be T o have m y horses run away, you see.You m igh t b rin g ruin on the ea rth and sky. A nd I ’m responsible, you know, — yes, 1.T ry som eth ing else. H ere ’s a great wheel of

light,T h e moon — a bicycle — alm ost as b righ t A s m y sun-chario t. G et astride of this,A nd m o v e y o u r le g s , an d y o u ’l l e n jo y a b lis s O f m o tio n t h r o u g h the c lo u d s a lm o st a s g re a t A s i f y o u ro d é l ik e m e 'in r o y a l State .N o, m y dear boy, — why, can’t you under

sta n d .?I daré no t tru s t you ivith m y foiir-in-hand.”

“ I have no tas te for bicycles,” the boy R eplied . “ T h a t th ing is b u t an idle tey.M y gcnius is for horses, and I long To try m y hand a t yours. T hey ’ie no t so

strongB ut I can hold them . I know all th e ir tricks. F a th e r , you swore it by the R ivcr S tyx,—You know you did, — and you are in a fix.You can’t rc tract. Besides, you need n ’t fear, You ’ll sec I am a skillful chariotecr.I ’ve taken Icssons o f a m an o f w orth,—A fiist-ratc driver down thcrc 011 tbc ca rtb .”“ ¡ see,” said Phcebus, “ th a t I can’t go back U pon m y prom isc. W ell, then, clear the track ! ”

So P hacton leaped up an d grasped the reins. H is anxious fa ther took a deal o f pains To tcach h im how to hold th em ,— how to '

keepT h e broad highw ay,— how dangerous an d steep-


P H A E T O N .

N -'

T W A S • an d how to avoid th e m oon and stars, K eep clear o f Júp iter, the E a rth , and M ars— A nd dodge the asteroids and comets red ; Follow the zodiac tu rnp ike, s tra ig h t ahead, T h o u g h clouds and thunder-sto rm s should round

h im spread.

y

Vi

A las ! ’t was all in vain. A little w hile—T w o hours, p e rh ap s— his fortune seem ed to

smile ;W h en a h ug e m eteor, whizzing th roug h the sky, A larm ed the horses, who began to shy,A nd shake th e ir fiery m a n e s ; th en p lunged

an d reared .A nd w hirled h im zigzag downward, till they neared

T h e E a rth . A conflagration spread bclow, A nd every th in g seem ed b u rn in g up like tow In tbe Sun’s flames. T h e n Júp iter looked

down

^ s a w the E a rth like toast, a ll tu rn in g brown, A nd th rew a blazing thun der-bo lt (but wait — H ere in paren thesis 1 ’d like to State T his m ay have been a telegram ; for then L igh tn ing dispatches were no t know n to men, B ut only used b y h ea th en gods) which struck T h e y o u th ; an d by th e greatest piece of luck P revented further loss.

T h is tale they told In olden tim es. I f I m igh t b e so hold A s to suggest an explanation here O f a phenom enon by no m eans clear,I ’d say those spots upon the Sun’s red tace W ere bruises th a t h e got in th a t m ad ra.ee.


G R I S E L D A ’ S N E W Y E A R ’ S R E C E P T I O N .

B y M a r g a r e t S i d n e y .

“ Y ou m ay stay, C lum ps,” said G riselda, m ag- nificently. ‘ ‘ You ’ll m ake one m ore ! ”

“ Oh, do, C lurapy, do ! ” beg g ed all the troop, swarming around him w ith im ploring hands.

I don’t b’leeve I w ant to ,’ said C lum ps, dubiously, back ing up against the k itchen door, and giving them all two o r th ree severe looks apiece. “ You ’ll m ake m e ru n , an ’ run , till I can’t take another step,— an’ do all your errands. 1 guess l ’d d tu ther go ho m e.” A nd he reached with stern rcsolve upon tip toc to undo the lalch.

“ Oh, n o ! I w oni,” cried G riselda, decidedly, with an energetic little stam p o f h e r foot, an d a shake of her head th a t sen t the tu ft o f ligh t hair hanging over h e r forchead ou t like a sm all m op. “ You sha’n’t go upstairs once, C lum p Badger, not a single once you sh a ’n’t, if you ’ll s ta y ! ”

“ There, Grizzy sa id so ! ” shrieked all the rest, each in a different key. ‘ 'N o w ! She d id ! she said so I ” which caused C lm nps to stop fum hlm g for the latch, an d to b rin g h im self dow n to his original hc igh t o f th ree feet four inches.

“ Not after the p in k bon n et ?— ñ o r the piiis ? ñor the ncedle and th re a d s ? ” h e asked, turning around to puff ou t resentfully a few of h is well-reitiembered grievances. “ N ov ñ o r------

“ No, n o ! ” cried Grizzy, in te rrup tin g him .“ We ’ll have every single th in g ready. 1 ’m going to bring ’em all down beforehand, an’ pu t ’em in the wood-box. ”

“ T hen, 1 ’ll s t a y ! ” cried C lum ps, wheeling around suddenly, and b eg inn ing the gym nastic feat of spinning around and around in the tniddle of the oíd floor as fast as h is little fat legs could carry him, interspersing the perform ance with “ W h a t ’li it be like, Grizzy ? ” an d th e rest o f th e children were soon accom panying h im on his war-dance, till the place resem bled Bcdlam .

“ For pity’s s a k e s ! ” cried Grizzy, try ing to catch a flying jack e t o r a s tray apron in its wild career, “ do stop, or you ’ll have the house dow n !1 told you befo re— a R e — cep — tion ! ”

“ And if you don’t know w h at th a t is ,” said brother Tom , who, u n d er the p re tex t o f stopping the others, h ad spun around with the wildest, and privately encouraged w hat he pubücly condem ned, “ l ’m asham ed o f y o u ! ” A nd no t know ing in the least what the proposed inagnificence was to be, he assum ed a wonderfully deep look, and wisely kept silent.

“ W e ’rc to have ca llen ," said Grizzy, in a very

grand way, and bustling around with a scnse of im portance. “ T om , do shu t the do o r— i t ’s all sccret, you know .”

“ S o i t i s , ” said Tom . “ T h a t 's r ig h t; i t ’s to be a secret, ch ildren . C lum ps, shu t the door.’

C lum ps c la ttered off, and closed with a b ang the door into the back hall.

“ D on’t te ll till I ge t b a c k ! ” he scream ed.“ O h, now, th a t ’s no t fair ! ” he exclaimed, com ing back, w ith a very red face, for a seat.

“ W hy , wc have n ’t said a singlo w ord,” said Grizzy.

“ W ell, you were goin' to ,” began C lum ps in- d ignantly . “ T h e re ” as he crowdcd in b e tween a sm all g irl with big, b lack eyes, who was s ittin g 011 the extrem e edge of a w ooden bench, and a boy o f about the sam e size, on the o ther end, so perfectly rap t in a tten tion to Grizzy and h e r wonderful plans tha t he was lost to a ll outside occurrences,— “ now, go <on, Grizzy. I ’m ready 1 ”

“ I ' m n o t ! ” scream ed the sm all girl, sliding from h e r end o f the bench, and crying , “ W hy , he pushed m e r ig h t off the bench ! ”

“ I d id n’t ! ” roared C lum ps. “ I only wantedto sit down som ew hcre.”

“ Do be quiet, ch ildren ,” cried Grizzy, in dis- m ay. “ D ear m e, C lum ps ! P lease behave ! ”

T h e sm all girl looked resolute, an d C lum ps slid off the bench an d cainped down on the floor.

Peace hav ing been thus restorcd, Grizzy b eg an : “ W e are to have ca lle rs ; a t least, we ’ll be all

ready if anybody does come. A nd som ebody probably will“ Suppose they should n ’t ,” said one o f the children in an awe-struck tone. “ T h en w hatwould we do,— say, G rizzy?”

“ W hy, th en ,” said T om , before Grizzy had tim e to reply, “ why, we ’ll tu rn about an d m ake calis on ourselves. N oth ing easier.”

“ good! " In an ccstasy, the children alldeclared th a t they hopcd no one w ould cali. “ I t ’s so m uch nicer to do the visitin’ oui-selves,” they cried.

“ W ell, then , we wont let anybody com e ! exclaim ed M ehitablc, the black-eyed g i r l ; and forge tting h e rse lf in h e r anxiety, she jum p ed from h e r seat,— into which C lum ps im m ediately slipped with a sigh o f relief,— and w ent to the window. “ I ’ll lock the back g a te ; th en they can’t get i n ! ” she announced, as a b r ig h t th ou gh t struck her. “ I ’m going now, G rizzy!” an d she pro-


ceecled to p u t h e r inhospitable p lan into execution.

“ Goodness ! ” cried Grizzy, rising suddenly, and tbereby upsetting two o r th ree o f the sm aller youngsters, who were cliistered around h e r; “ w hat an idea ! L ock ou t anybody who comes to cali on New Y ear’s D ay ? W hy, th a t is n ’t ‘ rece iv in g ! ’ ” A nd she rushed u p an d grasped Me- h itab le’s arm . “ G o back an d sit down, H e tty , else you can ’t be in a t the recep tion .”

W hereup on H e tty walked b ack to h e r bench, m uch dis- com fited, an d C lum ps again betook h im self to the floor.

Grizzy once m ore rcsum ed h e r plans an d descriptions.

“ W e ’llhave refreshm ents,”said Grizzy; “ a n d ”

“ W h a t k in d ? ” said T im , sm acking his lip s ; while the others scream - ed, “ W h y , rea l refreshm en ts— set on a ta b le !”

“ O f course,” said T om , w ith a superior air. “ Y ou d id n ’t supposc we ,’d have ’ein in a chair, did you, T im ? ”

“ W h a t kind ? ” dem anded M ehitable, no t paying the slightest a tten tion to h im . “ O h, do tell, Grizzy,” she im plo red , slipp ing around to the big rocking-chair in the greatest excitem ent.

“ W ell,— lem onade, for one th in g ,” said Grizzy, coolly, w atch ing to see th e cñect o f her words.

“ W h e r e ’d you got your lem ons, p ray te l l ? ” cried T om , in astoiiishm cnt. “ I should have th ou gh t y o u ’cl have to ld m e, Grizzy.”

“ ’T is n ’t exactly lemons," said G rizzy; “ an ’ I wanted to surprise you, T om . B ut it ’s a lem on— there ’s only been one squeeze tak en ou t o f it, for m other to ge t the ink-stain ou t of Ú nele Joe’s shirt- s leev e ; an ’ now she ’s given it to us. A n ’ she says we m ay have som e sugar, an ’ th a t takes awa)' the worst o f m y worrics, for I was so afraid we could n ’t ge t an y th in g good for refreshm ents,” added Grizzy, in a rclieved tone.

“ W hen are wc goin’ to d re s s ? ” asked one of the o ther children. . “ I ’m goin’ to w ear the pink b o n n e t.”

“ N o , / am ,” cried C lum ps, in the greatest a larm ; an d scram bling up from the floor, w ith one eye on M chitalilc, h e uproariously pressed his claims. “ You know, Grizzy L añe, you said I m igh t the very next tim e you dressed u p an ’ p la y e d now ! ”

“ So I d id ,” said Grizzy, reflccting. “ W ell, th a t was because you would n ’t ju s t run over to Miss P ilcher’s to get the b ig fan she prom ised us. You w onld n ’t go one single s tep w ithout my paying you ! ”

“ T h ere — I to ld you so! ” cried C lum ps, passing by, w ith a h ig h indifference to trifles, the reflection on h is personal characteristics,— an d he dc- ligh ted ly cried , “ I d on ’t care w hat you give it to m e for. I t ’s mine, anyway ! ”

“ C h ild ren ,” said Grizzy, tu rn in g to the rest, “ he m ust w ear the p in k bo n net th is tim e, for I d id prom ise it to h im .”

“ How you ’ll lo o k !” cried T om , bursting ou t in a loud laugb.

T o b e sure, the contrast was, to say the least, ra th e r s trik ing betw een th e envied p ink bonnet and the rest o f C lum ps’s a ttirc . A little dark yellow flannel blouse adorn cd th e u pp er p a rt of his person, w hich was flnished off by a well-worn pair o f little brow n corduroys.

“ I don’t care ! ” cried C lum ps, looking down at these, an d in nowise d ashed by the shouts of the children. “ I can p u t a shawl o r som cthin’ or ru th e r over m y b ack .”

“ B ut you have n ’t any shaw l,” cried M ehitable.

“ W ell, Grizzy ’ll give m e onc, wont you, Grizzy?" he said, appealing to her.

“ O h, well,” cried Grizzy, lau gh ing , “ I can find a shawl, I s’pose, if you «/¿/f w ear th e bo n n et.”

“ 1 w ill wear the b o n n e t! ” cried Clum ps, in a h igh p itch , “ an d you ’ll find m e a shaw l,— well, then , I ' jn a ll r i g h t !”

T h e oíd p in k bonnet h ad been hoarded and used by the ch ild ren in the ir charadas, as Ihc one gcm in th e ir collcction, ever since the tím e, long ago, when it h ad been given to G riselda by a lady, for th a t purpose. A nd its possession was always sought for. O n the appearancc o f any new play on the lioards, it im m ediately becam e tb c cause o f con- ten tion . W hoevcr carne off its posscssor was tho star, no m a tte r if everything else was adverse. It was no sm all tria l then to Grizzy, who h ad fully determ ined to “ receive ” in the adm ivcd pink hon- net, to see i t cap tured boldly by C lum ps, to whom she h ad forgo tten giving the rnsh promise. But she stiflcd h e r sigh, and was ju s t going upstairs to get the arm ful o f costum'es an d “ propcrtics, ’ when th e door o f the k itchen opened, and her m o th er carne in.

“ C hildren , í ’m so sorry ”— she began.“ O h, m other, you ’re no t going to take the

k itchen from us !” cried Grizzy, s ta rting up in alarm . “ You said wc m ig h t have it this whole afternoon !”

“ So I d id — and so you m ay ,” said h e r mother,


smiling. A n d then her face fell again, and she continued: “ B ut I must take something elseaway tliat is much worse — 1 want T o m ! ”

“ Tom ! " cried all the children in ch o ru s; while Grizzy burst out, “ Oh, w e want him to help ! ”

“ You sec I can’ t be spared, mother,” began Toin, greatly disappointed ; “ mother, you see for yourself.”

“ 1 know,” said his mother, sm iling at her big boy, “ but Unele Joe ’s aw ay, and there is no onc else to escort me over to Sister Carter’s ; and she is sick, J ’vc just h eard .”

Tom nerved himself, though with a rather dismal face, and then answered clicerily, “ I ’ I lg o , m other; l ’ ll be there in a m inute.”

“ Thank you, T o m ! 1 sha’n’t forget this N ew Y e a r ’s present of yourself,” said his mother, adding:

“ Now Grizzy, I m ay not be homo till six, so you ’d better have your suppers. A n d you can all have a nice time through the afternoon. Com e, T o m ! ”— And the door shut after them.

Grizzy looked al the doleful little group around h er and fiew off for the costumes, with which she presently returned; then she assigned parts, and issued direc- tions, in a w ay sufficiently dis- tracting to drive out any other thoughts.

About four o’clock the kitchen presented' quite a festive appearance. There had been several attempts at deeoration intended togiveitacharm ingeffect. M e- hitable coiitributed, from her treasures in the garret, an ap- pailing ari ay o f roostcr and turkey fcathers, which she stuck up in every place that was rcach- able; viewing the result with no

'smiül amount o f pride, despite the dismay on Grizzy’s face.

“ It looks so q u e e r !” she ttied, as Hetty, on a high chair, stuck the last one in place.

“ ’T is u’ t queer ! ” cried the indignant decorator, with a very red face ; “ you ^ id yourself the other day that fcathers were just the elcgantest trimmin’— n o w ”

That was for a bonnet,” said Grizzy impa- lently, ‘ not stuck up all over a room. W ell, its

your company as much as mine, so you can leave

’cm ,” adding, under her breath, “ though they are d read fu l! ”

A n d little T im ran upstairs and got all the bright tippets o f the cliildren, which he wound in and out over the drcsser and the dock.

“ See, is n’ t it pretty ? ” he cried, with a faint color in his cheek, as he view cd the effect.

“ Y e s , ’ t is, dear,” cricd Grizzy, giving him a kiss, “ it is pretty, T im m y .”

A bout h alf an hour later, it being so dark that the two tailow candles had to be lighted, the “ receiv- ers ” appeared, stuck up in a stiff little row, in the m iddle o f the room, on all the chairs and wooden

U 'D R E T O H A V E C A ,L L E R S / S A Í D G R I Z Z Y .

stools the kitchen boasted. A raid had been con- templated on some o f the parlor furniture, but that had been speedily discountenanced b y Grizzy, who would have no libortics taken during her mother’s abscncc. A compromise, therefore, was effected in the shape o f an oíd dining-room chair, taken to


i

complete the requisite number. On this sat Clnm ps, r a d lL t within the pink bonnet, perfectly r e p r d - less, under his oíd brown shawl, of the black looks

‘ ‘ W H Y , I T ' S

• ‘ W h en i t ’ s ten minutes to five,” said Grizzy with a sigh, beginning to realize that N ew Y e a r’s receptions m igAt not b e everything that was enjoy-

able, “ we ’ll b e g in !” E v e ry eye o f the whole

row was riveted on the d o ck . “ T w e l— ve, Eleven — n — te — ”

A rap, soft and low, at the back door, and then a rustle struck upon their ears, and made every little figure sldp from very astonishment.

“ ’T is ! ' i i s / ’’ cried the whole row, in joyful tones. O h ,G rizzy— ’r i í . '”

“ 1 know it,” said Griselda, trem bling with excitement, but trying to be elegant and composed. “ It ’ s probably some of the g irls ; they ’ve found it out. N o w all sit i'er- fcctly still. Come in .'" she cried, in a tone of com m and, drawing up her figure to its utmostC R I B D H E T T V .

o f H etty, who sat oppositc, trying her best to loo

festive and h appy in an inferior .T h e rest o f the com pany had followed their own

sweet wills so far as regarded tho arrangm g o f their several bits o f costumc, w hich, to save time and recrimination, Grizzy had decided must be drawn b v lo t ! T h is, though slightly mconvenient as re garded harmonizing effects, was delightfully peaceful : so that, as they sat and waited for their chance vlsitors, the little row presented, on the w h o k , a

sm iling exterior. . ,“ Is n ’ t it most time for refveshraents. said

Clum ps at last breaking the solemn silence which w as beginning to be a little opprcssive, and in g out under his pink bonnet at the array o f deli- cacies.o n the table, “ I ’m afraid the lemonadc

wont keep, Grizzy.” r j“ B e s t ill ! " said Grizzy, under a cap o f red cam-

bric, finished off with a bow of black velvct, it is n’ t proper for us to eat till the com pany comes W a it for ten minutes longer ; then, if there don t anybody com e, some o f us wül have to go out,

ari be the visitors.” .Thereupon a sm all uproar fnsned as to who

heieht, and w atching the door with sparkling eyes.T h e door pushed open cautiously, as if somo one

h ad not quite made up his mind to e n tcr; and then all was still. Grizzy, not know m g exactly whether it was etiquette or not for her to ^epeat her mv.tation, wisely said nothing, but sat, ^oU upn ht, with her com pany aspcct on and her han stifíiy in her lap. T h e othcr children were just berinning to w riggle im paticntly, - I t e u - o p n « S tb e 'c lo c , a . b y .a a g ic and, b e f a . . « > « , could think twice, a sm all object danced u m iddle o f the room, then leaped upon th eand, with a frightful leer on its cxpressive coimte nance m ade them all an elabórate bow.

“ O h ! ” ro ared C lu m p s , fo rg e ttin g ®legacostum e; and, tiim bling over backw ard rorn ^high seat o f honor, he rushed to Gnzzy m

fright, gasping, “ W h a t ir it oh“ W h y , it ’ s a m onk ey! cn ed -

greatest glce, and beginning to caperw itli “ Oh, Grizzy, a swee/, pretty m onkey . ^

T h e m onkey, seeing the attention ceiving, m ade several ineffectual

his feelings; but, finding them ^ t S e d hisan' Dc tiie vibuuis. , but, hnaing uicniThereupon a sm all uproar ensued as to who his fe_^^ g ^

sum ed, however, a large portion o f the long ten be-^íw -tiful m onkey, yo u ! crminutes, so that b y the tim e quiet was restored „ is h in g up to him to em brace him.the d o ck pointed to twelve minutes of five. >>


“ y a - a — s n a p ! — c k a t t e r -c k a ít c r !" cried his

monkcyship, his eyes flashing ominously. H etty did not wait to extend further courtesies, but hopped back a pace or two, where she stood glar

ing nt him !“ Y o u ’re a hate-i'SX, me-zxi Uttle —,< Y a-a— s n a p ! " T h e m onkey’s eyes now glit-

teied with rage, while he showed every tooth he possessed, and made a m ovem ent towards a spring athiscntertainer. ,

“ Do be s t ill ! ” cried Grizzy, pulhng her b a c k ; ‘ •don’t you see h e ’s cross; he m ight bite you, Hetty. Do be s t ill ; he wants som ething to eat.”

A t this, Clum ps, hearing the word “ eat,” set up such a dismal w ail that for a m om ent or lwo nobody could hear anything else.

“ Fo r pity’s sake ! ” exclaimed G riselda, shaking him, in the vain hope o f extinguishing the scream, but only cocking the pink bonnet over on one side of his h ead ; “ what are you so scared at? Oh, dear! ! do wish you ’d staid at home, I d o ! ”

“ You said — oh, dear, dear — ” cried Clum ps, wildly, and pointing one small, stubby finger, that treinbled like a grim y little leaf, in the visitor’s direction, though he did n’t daré to look it in the

face, “ you said — ”“ Said what ? ” cried Grizzy, with another small

slmke, hoping to facilitate matters a little. “ W tiat on oavth d id I say, Clum ps ? ”

“ That we ’d b e — oh, dear, d e a r !” he cried, his breaih giving entirely out.

" W h a t í " G riselda grasped both of his small arms firmly, then looked squarely into the forlorn face. “ Now, Clum ps B adger, tell me this minute !

What did I say ? ”“ T h a t h e — t h a t h e , ” w h im p e r e d C lu m p s , c a tc h -

in g f r ig h t fu lly ; “ o h ,d e a r ! t h a t h e — th a t h e — ”“ Go on ! ” said Griselda, decidcdly.“ That h e — ”“ Stop saying ‘ that h e,’ ” she exclaimed, iin-

patiently. “ Y o u ’re the most foolish boy 1 ever did see. T h a t he — -what ? ”

“ W -w anted,” said Clum ps, with a siiiffle, and beginning to look around fearfully, “ to — eat — me — up ! Oh, dear, d e a r ! boo-hoo-/wi? ■' ”

“ 1 did n’ t, you foolish boy ! ” cried Grizzy, letting go her hold o f his arm s to give him a re- assuring hug. ' “ I said he wanted som ething to cat — and so he does. I ’m going to get him a liiscuit.” A n d she started Ijriskly in the direction of the b ig pantry. .

“ You need n 't,” said little T im , tragically ; and pointing to the guest mounted on the oid table. “ He ’s got our ’ frcshments, and he ’s swallowin’ ’em all up ! ”

“ He sha'n't.f ” cried H etty, who, wholly occupied with Clum ps and his affairs, had neglected the

m onkey for the last few seconds, and thereby knew nothing o f his latest move. “ O w , stop lüm , somebody ! H e ’s got the ca-ake— í/ojé him ! ” A n d with one wild dash— forgetful o f her fear, forgetful o f Grizzy’s warning, o f everything but the loss of the precious “ refreshments,” which she now saw disappearing at a rapid rate — she sprang forward and grasped the long tail hanging over the edge

o f the table !“ S q u e ak , W ith a h o w l o f pain a n d ..

ra g e , as m u ch w orse th an C lu m p s ’s w ails o f d csp a ir as can b e im agin ed , th e m o n k ey fix ed h is sn ap p in g e ye s on H e tty , cleared the tab le w ith o n e

b o u n d , an d sp ra n g for her.“ T h ere ! ” cried G riselda in dcspair, hurrying

back from the pantry. “ N o w , you kave done it I Quick, H etty, jum p into the cupboard, or he ’U

bite you ! Quick ! ”“ I don’t want t o ! ” grumbled H etty, scuffiing

along, fighting every inch o f the way. “ I ’m not a-going to be shut up. I ’m not afraid o í him !

“ W e ll, / ain I ” said Grizzy, pushing her along. “ T h e r e ! ” and she shut the door upon her, not an instant too soon, for the m onkey, enraged at losing sight o f her, carne up with a thud o f venge- ance against the wall, just as the edge o fh e r gown disappearcd.

“ T h e re ,” said Grizzy, edging off to a respect- ful distance,— “ Y o u poor little fello w ; do you want som ething to eat? W e ll, you shall have it,” she added, in the sweetest o f toncs, hoping to pi-opitiate the aggrievcd visitor.

But if she expected to take that m onkey aw ay from that door, she was sadly disappointed. R e venge was sweeter than dry biscuit, or even cake, at this moment. A n d down he sat, w atching the crack with peering, inquisitive e y e s ; at every movement o f the imprisoned one, pricking up his ears afrcsh to bidé his time.

“ L et me o u - u t ! " carne in stifled accents from within the closet. “ I ’m smuvvered in here. Oh,.

let m e o u t ! ”A n d then followed a banging o f determined

little boot-heels against the door, that made the m onkey skip in delight and grin cxpectantly.

Ju st then there carne a click o f the b ack gate— then heavy footstcps tram ped up the path, and a loud, imperativa knock was thumped on the outside

door.G riselda started to run and open it, but had

only time to get h alf across the room when the door opened, and a burly m an, with a quick,. decisivo air, stepped into the oíd kitchen.

T h e m onkey took one look at him , then turned,. and, leaving rcven gc for m ightier souls than his, fied to the nearcst shelter, which happened to b e

liehind the coal-scuttlc.


“ A n y o f you seen a m onkey around h e r e ? ” aeked the m an, advancíng further into the room, and looking around.

T h e children thought they had !“ Oh ! ” cried Grizzy, “ is he yours ? ”“ Y e s , indeed ! ’ ’ cried the man. “ H e ’s run

aw ay from m y store. I keep a bird and squirrel store, an’ all that, over in town. P ’r ’aps you know me ; m y ñame ’s Pilcher, Jedediah Pilcher.” H e bowed impressively, as if the nam c was enough, but, under the circiimstances, he w ou ld add the bow. “ A n d a pretty chase he ’s led me. A n y o f you seen him ? ”

“ H e ’s eaten up e v e r y t h in g !" cried Clum ps, tum b ling out from behind tlie oíd rocking-chair, an d w aving his hands comprehensively to express

“ S O M E T H I N G S H O T U ? I N T O T H E A I R ! ”

the destitute condition o f all things. “ Y e s , he h a s ! E v e ry « '« g fí thing ! ”

“ Sakes o live ! ” cried the m an, falling back a step or two at the apparition in the pink bonnet and oíd shawl, that, to say the tiuth, did present a

very astonishing appearance. A n d then, glancing around at the different specimens o f dress that met his gazc, m uch as if Bedlam had broken loose around bim : “ I sh’d a-thought you ’d a scart the m onkey I ”

' ‘L e t m e o u - u t J " cried a voice from the doset. A n d H etty, more wild than ever for relcasc,

now that she knew there was some other attrac. tion in the kitchen that she could n ’t see, banged aw ay m ore fuiiously than b efo re; at each bang redoubling her vociferations.

“■Sakes o l i v e ! " exclaim ed the man, whirling around to stare wildly at the closet. A n d then, not being able to express his feelings, he took refiige in “ W ell, I never ! ”

W h ich seemed to answer, h ow ever; for. he ini- m ediately started up to

biisiness, and turned to G riselda with “ Where ’s that m onkey ? ”

“ I don’t know,” she said, beginning a violent search. “ H e was hcrc, a minute ago, when you — ”

“ I '11 find h im !” cried Clum ps, who, cn- couraged b y the man’s appearance, was in an anxious fever to help. “ 1 ’U bring him ; let m e — let me ! ”

“ L e t me o u - u í ! " cried H etty, with a rc- ncwed bombardment of the oíd closet door.

Clum ps, with the one thought o f getting ahead o f H etty in the

fun o f the search, and with his m ind full o f just how he would “ crow over her forever’n ’ ever,” carne care- lessly up to the coal-scuttle and bent clear over it.

T h ere was som ething that shot up in the air, like a flash, with a long trail after it. T h at was the m onkey. B ut there w as also something else that shot nearly as high, to fall down on the kitchen floor with a miserable little thud o f shocked surprise. A n d that was Clum ps !

T h e race was short— and sw eet— to the master,- T h e m onkey made a bow, perhaps not quite so elabórate as his entcring one, and the “ Recep- tion ” w as óver.

“ W e ll,” said H etty, when the knob was turned, letting her breatlie the air o f freeclora once more, while her eyes sparklcd with indignation and hor sm all framc shook with anger and disappointment, “ you ’ve been h avin g the nicest time, while you


shut me up. Y o u did it a-purpose, Grizzy, 1 know you did ! I could hear you all running about and talking like eveiyth in g.”

“ H e ’d have bitten yo u ,” cried Grizzy, who had been surveying tbc “ refreshments.” A n d now that the excitement was over. finding herself very tired, she felt decidedly cross and an sw ered: “ 1 wish you had staid out, if you wanted to. I do ! ”

“ A n ’ we have n’ t had a nice t im e !” cried Clumps, savagely; “ none o f us have n ’t, and he kicked me clean over, an’ I ’ve hurt m y knee, an' I wish I had n ’ t come ! ”

“ W ell, here ’ s mother 1 ” cried Grizzy, in a sigh

of relief, “ and T o m ! ”So it was, and a few o f the neighbors, whom

they met on the road, com ing for a friendly cali.‘ '\sh o H ¡d sa y ,” began T o m , flinging wide the

door 1 — A n d then the whole story carne out.“ W here ’s Clum ps ? ” asked Grizzy, about ten

minutes later, looking all around am ong the visitors for the roly-poly figure ; “ where can he be.^”

“ Here I am ,” said a voice at last. It carne from under the b ig oak table, where, after investigation by ncarly all of the party, Clum ps was discovered ; the Ireasured bonnet, slightly m ashed on one side, still on his head, with some suspicious looking

morsels o f the feast clinging to his garments, and a faint arom a o f lemon-pecl, over the rvhole!

“ Y o u ’ve gone and drunk up all the lem onadc ! ” cried H etty in extreme cxasperation, rcaching down to bestow a pinch on his toes— “ Oh — oh ! now we shan’t have any ! ”

“ It got kickcd over,” said Clum ps, p la cid ly ," an’ ’t was ’most all spilt, an’ I only just finished what was left o f it, an’ ’ t war n’ t good either, G rizzy! ”

“ It was perfectly e le g a n t !" cried H etty, wildly, to all o f the com pany, “ an’ it w as all we h a d ! A n ’ wc ’vc been so frightened, ;m’ there is n’ t a n ything to eat, either — oh dear, d e a r! ”

B ut the neigitbors’ hands were in their pockets, and from those pockets, one and all, carne enough “ lem- onade money ” to piovide for a dozen “ Receptions.”

“ T o m , m y b o y ,” said a kind, jolly-faced man, furtively wiping off the tears at the funny rccol- lection, “ picase run down to the store, about as fast as you ever ran in your life, an’ fetch up all the fixings you want for — what do you cali it — the thing you were goin’ to h a v e ? ”

H e turned to Grizzy, but before he had a chance to answer, it carne in one shout from all the little people — “ A R e — — tion ! A R e — cep — tion ! O h, Grizzy ! we are goin’ to have it after a l l ! ”

VoL, X I .— 20.


W I N T E R F U N .

B y W í l l i a m O . S t o d d a r d .

C h a p t e r III.

D e a c o n F a r n h a m w as fond o f chopping down trees; but he had not brought a b ig sleigh into the woods that m orning, with two yoke o f oxen, m erely to have them stand still in the snow while he chopped. T h e tires he kept up at the farm- house called for liberal supplies, and so Susie was to have an opportunity o f seeing a load o f logs put on.

She and Pen had to get out o f the sleigh to begin with, and then her únele and V o sh Stebbins removed all the sicle-stakcs out o f the sleigh on the side toward the wood-pile, and they put down, with one end o f each on the sleigh and the other end in the snow, a pair o f long, strong pieces o f wood, that V o sh called “ skids.” T h a t m ade an inclined plañe, and it was nothing but good, hard work to roll the logs up and into their places on the sleigh. T h e y m ade a tier all over the slcigh- bottom, and then the lighter logs were piled on them , in regular order, till the load was finished off, on top, with a heap o f bark and brushwood.

“ N ow , P e n ,” said V o sh , “ if you and Susie will climb up, we ’ll set out for hom e with this load.”

“ Is n’ t your father com ing, Pen ? ”“ N o, Susie. T h ere ’s a m an at the house to

help V o sh when w e get thcre. N ow w e m ust clim b.”Th ere was fun in that, but Pen was up first.In a minute or so m ore, Susie began to gain

new ideas about the m anagem ent o f oxen, and how strong they were, and how wonderfully willing. T h e y seemed to know exactly what to do, with a little help from V o sh and his long whip. W h en all was ready, and they bowed their horns and strained against their yokes with their powcr- ful necks, it seemed as if they could have moved anything in the world.

One long strain, a creaking soimd, and Ihcn a sudden giving aw ay and starting, and the snow began to crunch, crunch, beneath the wide, smooth runncrs of the sleigh.

V osh walked beside his team and drove it away around in a sem icirclc, carefully avoiding trees and stuinps, until he and his load were once more in the road and on their w ay home.

C orry and Porter had pushed on añer Ponto as best th ey could, but he had not stirred up for them any gam e in the thick, gloom y forest.

“ N o rabbits here ? ” inquired Porter.“ Sometimes theré are a few,” said Corry, “ but

this is n ’t the place. B ut we ’ re almost at the swam p, now. W e ’d better load u p .”

“ T h o guns ? A re n’ t they loaded ? ”“ N o. W e never leave a charge in. Father

says a gun ’s always safe when it ’s em pty.”C orry put the butt o f his gun on the ground

while he spoke, and Porter watched him narrowl).“ T h a t ’s his powder-flask,” he said to himselí

“ I m ight have known that m uch. T h e powder goes in first. O f course, it does.”

H e had never loaded a gun in all his life, and his cxperiencc with the axe had made him feel a little cautious. Still, he tried to m ake quick work of it, and when C orry began to push down a wad oí paper after the powder, his city cousin did the sam e thing. O nly he was a little behindhand, and he put in a m uch bigger wad o f paper.

“ H ow he does ram i t ! So will I ,” he thougin, and so he did.

C orry rem arked: “ Don’t put too m any shot into the gun. I ’ll measure them for you, so you '11 know next time. T h e shot scatter too much if you overcharge it.”

Porter was wonderíng, at tliat very moment, ho«' m any shot he had better put in, or whether be should try the b ig shot from one side o f his shot- pouch or the sm aller shot from the other.

“ W h a t are the b ig shot fo r ? ” he asked, when he saw C orry choose the smaller size.

“ Bucksh ot? Oh, you can kill almost anything with buckshot. D eer, or even b ear.”

“ Can you ? I never used ’em . I tbought they were b ig for rabbits.”

H e was glad to know his gun was correctiy loaded, however, and he imitated Corry in putting on the caps, for both barréis, as if he had served .1 long apprcnticeship at that very business.

“ H ave n ’t we reachcd the swam p yet ? ”“ N o , but we are near it. It ’s a great placo for

rabbits, when you get there. Hullo ! Ponto ’s started one. Com e on, Port.”

T h e y did not really need to stir a foot, for the swift little animal the dog had disturbed from its seat am ong the bushcs was running its best straiglit toward them. “ T h cre he is,” shouted Porter.

“ T r y him , P ort.” — “ N o , you try him .”C orry’s gun was at his shoulder, and in anotlier

second the bright flash leaped from the inuzile.“ D id you hit h im ? H e clid n ’ t stop running.

H e kept right on.”“ M issed him , I think. T o o m any trees, and it


was íi pretty long sliot,” explainetf C o rry, apoló- gctically.

W h y, it did n ’ t seem far.” ,‘ ‘ That ’s because it was over the snow. It was

more than ten rods. H a r k ! H ear Ponto.”The oíd dog was barking as if for clear life, and

the boys ran as fast as the snow would let them. They had not gone far before th ey could see Ponto dancing around the foot o f a huge tree.

“ If he has n ’t treed him ! ” exclaim ed Corry. “ Treed a rabbit? W h y , can they c lim b ? ” ‘ •Clim b? R abbits clim b? I guess not. But

that tree ’s hollow. See that hole at the bottom ? Tire rabbit ’s in there, sure.”

‘ •C a n w e get him , C o r r y ? ”“ W e ’ll try, but it wont p ay if it takes too long.

It ’s only onc rabbit.”Porter Hudson had a feeling that it would be

worth almost anything in the world to catch that ral)l)it. H e hardly knew how to go to work for i t ; but he felt very warm , indeed, while his cousin stooped down and reached with his arm further and further into the hole in the tree. T h e hole did not go down, but up, and it was quite large at its outer opening.

Is it a hollow tree, C orry ? ”• Guess not. O nly a little w ay u p .”“ Can you feel h im ? ”“ My arm is n’t long enough.”Ponto whimpered very m uch as if he understood

what his master was saying. T h a t was probably not the first runaway gam e which had disappointed him'by getting into a den o f safety.

Here he com es! ” exclaim ed Corry.“ Got him ? H ave yoú ? ” answered Port. “ There he i s ! ”Corry witlidrew his arm , as he spoke, and held

up m triumph a very large, fat, white rabbit.“ You did reach him , did n’t yo u ? ” Porter cried. “ No, I did n ’t. Som e of m y shot had hit him,

and he fell down the hole. D o n 'ty o u s e e ? T h ey did n’t strike him in the proper place to tumble him right over. H e could run.”

“ Poor fellow,” said Porter. “ H e wont run any more, now.”

It was of small use for Port to pity that rabbit, when the one thought he h ad in mind was that he could not go home h appy unless he could carry with him another o f the sam e sort and o f his own shouting.

Corry loaded his gun again, and on they w e iit; but pretty soon he rem ark ed :

“ W e ’re in the swam p now, Port.”“ I don’t see any swam p. I t ’s all trees and

bushes and snow,”That is so ; but there ’ s ice under the snow, in

some places. You can’ t get through here at all

in the spring, and hardly in summer. It ’s a great place for rabbits.”

Ponto was doubtless aware o f this fact, for he was dashing hither and thither very industriously.

T h ere were plenty of little tracks on the snow, as the boys could now plainly s e c ; but they crossed one another in all dircctions, in a m anner that puzzled Porter Hudson exceedingly.

“ How will Ponto find out which one o f them he ’d better follow up ? ” he asked.

“ W a it, Port. you ’ ll see,” said bis cousin.Porter was taking his first lesson as a sportsman,

and was peering anxiously behind trees and in am ong the neaiest bushes. Suddenly, he saw som ething, or thought he saw it, which rnade him hold his breath and trem blingly lift his gun.

“ Can that be a real rabbit,” he th o u gh t; “ sitting there so still ? ”

H e did not utter a word, and the first Corry knew about it was the sound of both barréis o f his cousin’s gun, fired in quick succession.

B a n g ! — bang ! — they went.“ W h a t is it, P o r t ? ”“ I ’ve shot him ! I ’ve shot him ! ”Porter was bounding aw ay across the snow and

disappeared am ong some thick hnzel bushes. A moment more, and he was out again, with a rabbit in his hand, quite as heavy as the one Corry had killed.

“ First-rate, Port. W a s he running? ”“ N o , he was sitting still.”Con-)' was too polite to say that no regular

sportsman fired at a rabljit unless it was running. It would have been a pity to have dampened Porter’s wild exultation over his first game.

Porter had no time to talk then, however, for he had his gun to load, and he was in no small anxiety as to whether he should succeed in getting the charge in rightly. Besides, there was Ponto, racing across the swamp, with a b ig rabbit just ahead o f him. T h a t rabbit was a capital jum per, and it w as gaining on its barking pursuer, when they ran b y within range o f Corry Farnham ’s gun.

O nly one barrel was fired, but Ponto’s master was ahead again. “ T w o to m y one,” said Porter.

“ Y o u ’ll have chances enough. Don’t fire both barréis every time, though, or you m ay lose some o f ’e m ; and you ’ ll fill your rabbits full of shot, as you did that one.”

Port’s idea had been that both barréis o f his gun were there for the purpose o f being fired off, but he was quite ready to take a hint. H e had more and more serious doubts, however, about his ability to hit a rabbit on the run. T h e first time he actually tried to do it, he doubted more than ever. H is chance and his disappointmcnt carne to him soon after C orry’s gim was loaded and while they were Crossing the swamp.


“ I must have hit him ,” he said, as h e lowered his gun and looked after the ralibit, still clearing the snow with long, vigorous jum ps.

“ W e ll, if you did,” said Corry, “ he has n ’t found it out y e t .”

“ Y o u r first one did n't find out ho was hit till he got into the tree.”

“ T h a t ’s so. B ut 1 never knew it happen just so before. Ponto ’s after another, now ! H e ’s chased it around those sum ac bushes. T h e y ’rc com ing this way. Shoot ahcad o f the ral)bit, if you want to hit it.”

Portel- was positive, in his own mind, that he could not hit the rabbit, and he felt him self blush- ing as he raised his g u n ; but he tried to see his gam e somewhere beyond the end o f it, and then

he fired.“ I d eclare! Y o u ’ve done i t ! A good long

distance, too,” shoulcd Corry.It was so v ery long ihat the shot had scattcred a

great deal, and one o f the little leaden pellets had strayed in the direction o f the ralibit. Ju st onc, but it was as good as a dozen ; for it had struck in a vital spot, and Porter was as proud as i f the skin o f his gam e h ad been filled with shot heles.

Alm ost two hours went b y after that, and they tram ped all over the swainp. Porter killed another sitting rabbit, but Corry was one ahead o f him, and was feeling h alf sorry for it, when he suddenly stopped m arching and lifted his hand, exclaim ing:

“ H ear Ponto ! H ark ! A w a y yonder.”“ Started another rabb it?” inquired Port Hudson.“ N o , he has n ’t. It isn ’t any rabbit, this tim e.” “ W h a t i s i t ? W h a t i s i t ? ”“ H ear that jum ping ? H ear Ponto’s yelp ? It ’ s

a d eer! ” almost whispered Corry.D eer ? D id you say it ivas a deer ? Can you

t e l l? ”“ H a rk ! L is t e n !”Ponto was no deer-hound. H e was somewhat

too heavily built for that kind o f sport; but any deer o f good common sense would run aw ay from his com pany, all the samo. T h e certainty that the dog could not catch it would not interfcre with the deer’s running.

Ponto’s discovery was a fine buck, which soon carne bounding with long, easy leaps out from am ong the forest trees into the more open ground at the edge of the swam p. Porter thought he had never before seen an ythin g h alf so exciting, but the buck went b y like a flash.

Ju st h alf a minute later, Corry tum ed rucfiilly to his cousin and asked him : “ Port, what did you and I fire both barréis o f our guns for ? ”

“ W h y to hit the deer,” answered his cousin.“ A t that distance ? A n d with sm all shot, too?

I f they ’d reachcd him , they ’d hardly have stung

him . W h y , there was n’ t the slightest chance of our hurting him. L et ’s go hom e.”

Porter ivas ready enough, and it was not long before Ponto gave up following the buck and carne panting along at the hccis of his master. H e looked a little crest-fallen, as if he would have likcd very m uch to rein ark: “ It ’s o f no use to drive deer for boys. I did m y duty. N o dog o f m y size and weight could have done m ore.”

T h e y had a tram p before them. N o t that they were so far from hom e, but it was a long,. weary wadc through the snow, and Porter Hudson learned a good deal about the weight o f rabbits by tlic time he laid his gam e down at the kitchen door of the farm-hoiise. T h e y h ad been grow ing heavier and heavier all the w ay, until he almost wished he had not killed more than one,

C h a p t e r I V .

S u s i e a n d P e n h a d a g r a n d rid c to the farni-

h o use, on the w ood-sleigh.Perched away' up there on to p o f thcbvush-wood,

they could gct the full efiect o f every swing and lurch o f the load under them. V o sh Stebbins had to chuckle again and again, in spite o f his resolute politcness; for the girls would scream a little and laugh a good deal when the sleigh sank suddenly on one side ia a snowy hollow, or slid too rapidly after the oxen down a rather steep slope. It wns rather a coid ride, however, and when they reached the house, Susie Hudson almost had to quarrel with A unt Juditli to prevent being wrapped in a blanket and slioved up, in a b i g rockiiig-chair, into the very face o f the sitting-room fire-place.

“ D o let her alone, Ju dith ,” said A u n t Farnhain. “ I don’t believe she ’s been frost-bitten.”

“ I ’m not a bit coid now ,” asserted Susie.“ I ’m glad o’ th at,” said A u n t Ju d ith ; “ but are

n’t you h u n gry? Pen, brin g up some krullers." Susie adraitted that she could eat a krullcr, and Pen h ad no need to be told twice.

W h en V osh carne b ack from the woods with his second load, it was dinnor-time, and Deacon Farn- ham carne with him. O nly a few minutes later there was a great shouting at the kitchen door, and there were the two boys. T h e whole family rushed out to see what they had brought home, and Susie thought she liad never secn her brother

look quite so tail.“ Corry beat you, did h e ? ” said Vosh, as he

turned the rabbits over. Som ething in the tone o f that rem ark seem ed to ad d : “ O f course, he did,” and Port replied to i t : “ W e ll, he ’s used to it. 1 never fired a gun before, in all m y life.’

T h a t was a frank confession, and a very good one to m ake, for the D eacon exclaim ed : “ You never


cliíl ? W h y, then, you ’ve done w e ll ! Y o u '11 make a inarksman, one o f these d ays.”

“ Vosh,” said M rs. F arn h am , “ tell your mother to come over with you, after tea, and spcnd the

evening.”•‘ Thank you ! ” he replied. “ Sh e ’ll come. I

know she will. I ’ ll finish m y chores early.”He swung his axe to his shoulder and marched

away, very straight, with a curious feeling that borae city people were looking at him.

The boys and the girls and the older people ivcrc all rem arkably ready for their dinner as soon as it was on the table.

“ Pen,” said Susie, “ I dicl n ’t know chopping down trees would make me so h u n gry.”

“ Yes,” said D eacon F arn h am , “ it ’s as bad as killing deer. Port and C orry are suffering from that. You did your chopping, as they did their dcer-killing, at a safe distance.”

After dinner, it was a puzzle to every one where the time went to, it fled aw ay so fast.

Pcii took Susie all over the house and showed her everything in it, from the apples in the cellar to the spinntng-wheel that had been carried upstairs the day before and would have to come do'vn again to-morrow.

“ Aunt Judith has a pile o f wool, Susie. You ought to see it. Sh e ’ s going to spin enough yarn to last her all next sum m er.”

“ I ’ll get her to teach m e to spin.”“ Can you knit ? ” asked Pen. “ I f you can ’t, l ’ll

teach you how. It ’ s easy, as soon as you know .” Then Susie, in h er turn, told Pen about her

lidies and crochct-work and some other th in p , and was getting a little the best o f tbe dialogue, when Pen asked, very doublfully :

“ Can yon heel a stocking? It ’ s worse, a good deal, than just to narrow them in at the toes. Aunt Judith says there are n ’t m any wom en, now- adays, who can heel a stocking.”

•‘ 1 ’ll ask her to show me how. D ear m e, Pen, do you know how late it is ? H ow the timo docs fly to-day ! "Wbore does it go ? ”

Corry and Porter knew where a part o f their lime had gone, after they carne from thebarns and delivered to Mrs. Farnham and A u n t Judith the eggs they had found. C orry brought out his chccker- board and laid it on the table in the sitting-room.

“ I t ’s a big One,” said Porter. “ W h ere are your men? ”

“ Hanging up there, in that bag. T h e woodcn men were lost. W e take horsc-chestnuts for black men and walnuts for whitc ones.”

“ S ’pose you make a k ing ? ”“ That ’s a buttcm ut, if it ’s black. I f it ’s

white, you put 011 one o f these bits o f wood.”Thcre was no danger o f their getting out of

checker-inen, but Corry Farnh am had a lesson to learn.

Porter Hudson knew a great deal more about checkers than he did about tree chopping or rabbits.

G am e after gam e was played, and it seemed to Corry as if his cousin “ hit some of them on a full run.” H e got up from the last contest feeling a very fair degree o f respect for P o rt; and the latter was quite restored to his own good opinión of h imsclf.

T h a t was coraforting, for all his m om ing’s ex- pcricnces had been a little the other way, and he was not h alf sure he could hit a running rabbit again, if he should have a chance to try.

Susie and Pen liad watched them for awhile, but both boys had been very obstínate in not making any o f the “ good m o ves” Pen pointed out to them.

T h ere were “ chores” to do, both before and after tea, and Porter went out with Corry, determined to undertake his share o f them.

“ Did you ever m ilk cows, P o rt? ”“ W e ll, n o ; but 1 think I could if I ti-ied.”“ W e ll, I guess you ’d best not try to-night, but

you can learn before you go home. Som e o f our cows are skittish in coid weather.”

Port was quite contented, after getting into the cow-yard, to let the m iiking be done b y some one who knew how, and he had the satisfaction o f seeing C orry him self kicked over into the snow— pail, milk, and all — b y a brindlcd heifer.

T h ere were pigs and cattle and horses to feed, and supper to be eaten, and when at last the boys bad finished their dutics, the rest o f the family was already gathered in the sitting-room.

M rs. Farnham and A u n t Judith had their knitting, and the Deacon had a newspaper in his lap, v.'ith his spcctacles ly in g in the middle o f it. It seemed, however, the most natural thing in the world that they all should be sitting in a great scmicircle in front o f the fire-place. T h e night promised to be a cqld one, and tlie fire hád been built for it in the most liberal manner.

“ C o rry,” said Porter, “ « h a la r e all those fiat- irons and ham m crs for ? ”

“ W h y , to crack nuts. I ’m going down cellar to bring up some butternuts and hickory nuts.”

“ I ’ll go with you, C o rry.”“ So will I ,” said Pen. “ Com e, Susie, and

we ’ll bring up the apples and pears and some eider.”

Corry and Pen carried can d lcs; but the light only served to m ake the cellar look larger and darkcr and more mysterious. It seemed as if it had neither sides ñor ends, but the heavy, black beams overhead were not so wonderfully far away. Pen showed Susie bin añer bin o f carefully selected


winter apples and pears; and there were hall a dozen barréis of eider, ranged against one side of

tho cellar.“ It ’s all sweet enough now, but it will b e hard

enough, some time. T h en some o f it will be made into vin cgar,” she added.

‘ ‘ W h a t ’s in the little barrel ? ” Susie asked.“ A unt Judith ’s currant wine. W h enever any

body in the valley gets sick, she takes a bottle o f it and gives it to the sick person. It ’s her one great m edicine.”

“ Oh, oh ! ” exclaimed Susie, “ just look at all the minee-pies on the sw ing-shelf! W h y , Pen- clope F arn h am !— how m any are there ? ”

T h ere were more than a dozen, for the swing- shelf ran the whole length o f the cellar, straight down the middle, and it held double rows o f pies, all ready to be carried up and warm ed for use. Susie would have been w illing to stay longer to inspect the trcasures in that generous cellar, but Corr>- suddenly exclaim ed:

“ Port, l e t ’s hurry. T h e y ’ve come. Don’t you hear M rs. Stebbins ? ”

T h e y could h ear her now saying to V osh ;“ A n d , Lavaujer, you m ust mind one thing,—

you m ust n ’t talk too m u ch — ” ; but, the next moment, they reached the door.

G ood M rs. Farnh am , while the young people w crc downstairs had thoughtfully walked out into the store-room adjoining the kitchen and returned with a long-handled wire corn-popper and a b a g of what she called “ tuckct-corn.” It w as corii with small, round, blue-black kcrnels that can pop out larger and whiter for their size than any other kind that grows. • T h ere is a Icgend that the sced o f it carne originally from the island o f N an tu ck ct; but it has short, nubbing ears, and even the island Indians must have found it a poor crop for any

th in g but “ popping.”Mi-s. Stebbins was inside the door now, for sho

never dreamed o f knocking and waiting out in the coid until som ebody should come to let her in. She was hardly over the threshold before she said, as she loosened her sh a w l:

“ Judith, where are Susie and her brother and C orry and Pen ? T h e y have n’ t gone aw ay somewhere the very first night, have t h e y ? ”

“ T h e y ’ re down in the cellar. T h e y ’ll be up here in a minute. N ow , A ngelinc, take off your hood and sit down. V osh , there ’s a chair. H ad n’t vou better take that popper and set to w ork? ”

“ V osh tells m e,” began M rs. Stebbins, “ that the boys got half a dozen rabbits to-day. I don’t carc m uch for rabbits. A n d they saw a deer, too. 1 ’d ha’ thought they m ight ha’ shot it, if it was nigh enough. B u l, then, a deer is n ’ t anyw ays like as easy to kill now as it was when 1 was young. And

they were only a couple o f boys, besides. 1 do say, now, here they come ; and th ey ’rc m akin’ racket enough for tw enty.”

T h e y were com ing, indeed. C lam berin gu p out o f the cellar with every pair o f hands full, and M rs. Stebbins did not stop for an instant.

“ Susie, is that y o u ? W e ll, now, I must kiss you, right away. V osh said you were lookin’ real pretty, and so you b e ; but he is n’ t always a good judge. I knew your mother when she was n’t no older’n you b e now. She was Josha-u-tt Farnham ’s sister. A n d so she ’s gone South for her hcaltli and your father ’s gone wáth her, and you ’ve come to put in the rest o f your winter up here ? I do declare, Lavaujer, if you are n ’ t kerful you ’ll Inim up every kernel o f that corn. D on’t stop lo talle. Je st tend to your corn-popper.”

She had m anaged to get up from her chair and kiss Susie without at all interrupting h er discourso; but she was a little out o f breaih for a moment and sat still and watchcd them while th ey deposited upon the table che tail, brown pitcher o f eider, the pans o f fruit, and the inaple sugar.

T h e young folk had a chance to say a word to Vosh, and C orry and Porter each picked up a flat- íron and a hammer. T h ere were plenty of niits ready for them , and the sound o f the cracking, and o f the rattling, bursting corn in the popper, m ingled oddly with Susie’s efforts to answer ilie rapid inquiries poured upon her b y M rs. Stebbins.

“ N ow , Susie, 1 ’m glad you ’ve come. Yon 're right from the city, and you ’rc well-nigh giown now, and you know all about the fashions. V c don’t hear a word about ’em up hcreaway lili they ’ve all com e and gone and somethin’ else is in fashion. G ot to wearin’ short dresses, hev the> ? Th in k o f m e, or Judith , or your A u n t Sarah Farnh am , in short d resses! I do say ! What wont they put on n ext? L a st things they invenicd were the little, skim p skivts, for hard times, that carne so nigh bein’ the ruin o f the dry-goods men. D id n’t take a n y cloth at all.— Lavaujer, yon ’re

. a-talkin’ again. Y o u just ’ tcnd to your pop-corii.” “ N ow , A n gclin e,” said M rs. Farnham , “ do

take án apple or a p car.”“ Y e s, A n gelin e,” said A u n t Judith, “ and

here ’s a píate o f popped corn and some nuts. Joshua, pour her out a m ug o f eider. Pen, go to the cupboard and fetch a píate o f krullcrs. It s

a very coid night.”“ So it is,” began Mrs. Stebbins, “ but the win-

ters are n ’ t what they used to be. N o more íhc buUcrnuts are n ’t, som ehow ; but I must sa)' you m akc out to have good fruit, though how you do lí in these times beats me. Our trees die out.”

Lik ely as not they did, but the attack had fairly begun, and poor M rs. Stebbins found herself out-


niimbered. T h e D eacon pressed her with the eider and Mrs. F a m h a m with the krullers. Th ere was the heaped-up píate o f snowy-white popped corn,.iiid Isesidc it was the tem pting little hill o f cracked hickory nuts and butternuts. Susie broke off for her a noble piece o f m aple silgar, and A u n t Judith herself took a candie and went down cellar for a couple ofth e best minee-pies. Itw a s too much for evcn Mrs. Stebbins’ convcrsational powers to resist-

“ Oli, V o sh ,” suddenly exclaim ed Susie, “ Corry told U S , this morning, about the bear you killed, last winter.”

It was cruel to mention such a thing, just as Mrs. Stebbins had commenced to eat a krullcr, and she began to say : “ Y e s , but once Lavaujer’sfather ” but she h ad to pause a mom ent, andl'üsh took up the story w ith ; “ N o , Susie, I did n't kiil him. A ll three o f us did it. W e were n ’t twontyfeet from him. D eacon Farnh am fired first, and then I, and then Corry'; we all had double- barreled guns, and we did n’ t one o f us miss. Butit was a big b ear ”

“ I knew a b e ar ” began M rs. Stebbins,but Aunt Judith interi-upted her w ith ; “ Now,Angcline, do take a slice o f minee-pie. It ’s coid, but sometimes they ’re better coid than w arm .”

And the pie was too much for the mem ory of the other bear.

The sound o f popping corn and cracking nuts had been almost incessant, and the young people had now succeeded in breaking all the ice the fire had left in the snug sitting-room. T h e y were oíd acc|uaintances, all o f them , and were chatting away mcrriiy among themselves.

Mrs. Farnham and A u n t Judith seemed to keep steadily on with their knitting, whatever else they miglit be doing. It seemed to do itself, very miich like their breathing. E ve n the Deacon man- agcd to look into the corners o f his ncwspaper "hile he pared an apple or talked to M rs. Stebbins. The light of the great astral lamp on the table mingled with that from the fire-place, in a sort of rcddish-golden glow, that flickered over the walls and faces in a w ay to m ake everything and cverybody wear a warm, contented, cozy look that was just the right thing for a frosty winter evening.

“ Vosh,” said Corry, suddenly, “ Port can beat you at checkers. Y o u ought to have seen the way he beat me to-day. T r y him a gam e.”

“ Now, Lavaujer,” said his mother, from beyond the table, “ you can play well enough for these parts, but you can’t think o f comin’ up to a city fellow like Porter Hudson. H e ’ll beat you, sure.”

A t all events, V osh needed no m ore than that to make liim try a gam e ; so Penelopc brought out the board and the hom c-m ade “ checkers.”

( T o l e c o n tin n e d . )

It m ust be confesscd that, after his triumphant experience with Corry, Porter Hudson imagined him self to have quite taken the measure o f up- cuuntry skill and Science at that gam e. H e sat down to his new trial, therefore, with a proud as- surance of a victory to come. It would have been kind o f Corry to have given his cousin the least bit o f a warning, but that young gentleman him self had been too roughly handled to feel very iner- ciful. Besides, he had some very sm all and lin- gering doubt as to the rcsult, and was w illing to wait for it.

H e need not have h ad any doubt, since there was really no room for any. V osh was a born checker-player, and it is never easy to beat players o f that sort. N obody ever knows exactly how they do it, and they themselves can not tell. Their spare m en get to the king-row and their calcula- tions come óut right, and if you are Porter Hudson and are playing against them, you gct beaten very badly and there ’s no help for you.

Corry watched the gam o with a suppressed chuckle, but it was a dreadful puzzle to Port. Even Pen did not venture to suggest a single good move, and the older people talked very quietly.

Mrs. Stebbins was a proud woman when Susie exclaim ed: “ V osh has won ! ”

Itw a s o fn o use for A u n t Judith to s a y ; “ W o n t you have another slice o f pie, A n g elin e? and some m ore eider ? ” Mi-s. Stebhins responded:

“ I don’t caie if I do. Only I’m afeard it ’ll make me dream and talk in m y sleep. L avau jer always did play checkers in spry slyle, but he is n ’ t the player his father was when he was a young man. H e did n ’ t have any time to play checkers after he got to runnin’ a farm o f his own. P ie ? Y e s, Ju dith, you ’ve got just the right knack o f m akin’ minee pies ” ; and while she went on to tell o f the various good and bad pies she had seen or tasted, all the rest agreed with her about those they were eating. In fact, the good things o f all sorts went far to teconcile even Porter Hudson to his defeat, and V o sh was triily polite about that. In less than two minutes he m anaged to get the othcr boys and even the girls talking about hunting, skating, coasting, slcigh-riding, and catching fish tlirough the ice.

T h e evening seemed to m clt aw ay, it went so fast, and no one was w illing to believe how late it was wlien M rs. Stebbins began to put on her hood. T h e y all saw hor and V osh to the door, and did not cióse it until the gate shut behind the last rem ark the good woman tried to send back to them. It was som ething about boiled eider in minee-pies, but they failed to hear it all.


P I G M Y T R E E S A N D M I N I A T U R E L A N D S C A P E S .

B y J o h n R . C o r y e l l .

P K 7M V A Í T I . S * T R £ E — A N D I 'K U I T (S H O W N I J A L F T H E A C T U A L S I Z E ) ,

In some w ays the Chínese and Japanese gardeners are the most successful o f any in the world. T h e y can control and direct the growth o f plants to a degree that seems really marvelous until the principie upon which it is done is known, when, as in m any othcr matters, it becom cs quite simple.

T h e Chínese have such a strong liking for the grotesque, and unnatural, that the handiwork of their gardcners is not as pleasing as that o f the Japanese gardeners. T h e Chínese understand the dwarfing o f tre e s; isut their best w ork is in so directing the growth o f a tree or plant that it will resemble some hideous anim al which is only fit to exist in a nightmare.

T h e Japanese, on the contrary, are rcm arkablc for theiiTovc o f what is beautiful and graceful, and,

consequently, ugly forins find no favor with them. E v e ry Japanese has a garden if it b e possible; but, as space is valuable in Japan , only the very rich can have large grounds, and the family in modérate circum stances must be contcnt with a garden often smaller in area than the floor o f one of our hall bcdrooms in a narrow, city house.

Nevertheless, tbat sm all garden must contain as m any objects as the large garden, and, o f course, the only w ay o f accom plishing the desired result is to have everything in miniature. It is nouncommon thing to see a whole landscape containcd in a space no greater than the top o f your dining table. T h cre will be a mountain, a stream , a lake, rocky grottoes, w inding paths, bridges, lawns, fruit trees, shrubs, and flowers: all so artistically laid out


8,.! P I G M Y T R E E S A N D M I N I A T U K E L A N 'D S C A l ’ E S . 3 0 5

as to rcsemble nature, itsclf. In the lake will swim wonderful, filmy-finned gold and silver fish, and not infrequently the tail form o f a crane will be seen m oving m ajestically about the tiny

landscape.This seems wonderful en o u g h ; but what will

you think when I say that almost the sam e landscape is reproduced on so small a scale that the two pages o f S t . N i c h o l a s , as it lies open before you, can cover i t ! In tbis case, a tiny house is added ; delicate green moss takes the place of vrass, and glass covers the lake where the water should be. Counterfeit fish swim in the glass lake, and a false crane overlooks the whole scene, just as the real crane does the larger landscape. T h e mountain, winding walks, bridgcs, and rocky grottoes are in the little landscape ; and real trees, licaring fruit, or covered with dainty blossoms, are

in their propet places.These trees are o f the right proportions lo fit

the landscape, and they are, consequently, so tiny that one is tcm pted to doubt their rea lity ; and more than one stranger has slyly taken the leaves or fruit between the fingers, in order to make sure that the dwarfs do truly live, and are not, bke the fish and crane, m ere counterfcits. T h ese mmiature landscapes have been successfully brought to this country ; and on one occasion a lady o f San Francisco used one o f them as a center-piece on the table at a dinner-party, greatly to the wonder and admiration of h er guests, who could scarcely

be convinccd that the almost microscopic apples on the trees were genuino fruit.

A n d now comes the question— how is the dwarfing done ? T h e principie is simple. T h e gardener m erely thwarts nature. H e knows that, to grow properly, a tree icquires sunlight, beat, inoisture, and nourishmeut from the soil. H e takes mensures to le t the tree have only just enough of these to enable it to keep alive.

T o begin, he takes a little secdling or cutting, about two inchcs high, and cuts off its main root. H e then puts the plant in a shallow dish, with the cut end o fth e root resting against a stone, to rctard its growth b y preventing nourishinent cntering that way. Bits of clay the size of a bcan are put in the dish, and are so regulated in kind and quantity as to afford the least possible food for the little root- lets which. have been left on the poor little tree. W ater, heat, and ligh t are furnished the struggling plant in just sufficient quantities 10 hold life in it without giving it enough to thrive on. In addition, any arabitious attempt to thrive, in spite o f these drawbacks, is checked b y clipping with a sharp knife or searing with a red-hot iron.

After from five to fifteen years o f such treatment, the only wonder is that the abused tree will conscnt

even to live, to say nothing ofb earing fruit.

A M I N I A T U R E L A N D S C A


T H E B R O W N I E S O N S K A T E S .

B y P a l m e r C o x .

O n e night, when m ercury was low A n d winter w rapped the world in snow A n d bridgcd the streams in wood and field W ith ice as smooth as Rom án shield,Som e skaters swept in graceful style T h o glistening surfacc, file on file.F o r hours the Brownies viewed the show, Com m enting on the groups belo'v;On this one’s form or winning face,O n that one’s art or lack o f grace.Said o nc: “ T h a t pleasüre m ight b e ours— W e have the feet and motive pow ers;N o mortal need us Brownies teach,I f skates werc but within our reach.” Another answ cred: “ T h en , m y friend,

L ike oranges from Cu ba’s sh o re; Behind the dusty counter stands A native o f the H oly L a n d s;T h e place is filled with various things,

T o hear m y plan let all attend.I have a building in m y mind T h a t we within an hour can find. T h ree golden balls h an g b y the door.

F ro m baby-carts to ban jo-strin gs; H ere hangs a gun without a lock Som e pilgrim Ijore to PIymouth rock ; A n d there a pair of goggles lie,


That stared at Croinwell m arching b y ; While piles o f club and rocker skates Of every shape the buyer waits !Though second-hand, I ’m sure they ’ll do, And serve our wants as well as new.That place we ’ll enter as we m ay, To-morrow night, and b ear away A pair, the best that come to hand,For every m em ber o f the han d.”

W h en evening next her visit paid T o fold the earth iii robes o f shade;Then down bcneath the golden balls,A s thick as bees when F lo ra calis From apple bough or clover m ead,T h e Brownies gathered as a ^ e e d ,T o venture boldly and procureT h e skates that would their fun insure.A s rats and mice can m ake a brcach

T o goods w e thought beyond their reach, A n d visits p ay to cake and chcese

■ W ith out a key whene’er they please.So , cunning Brownies can proceed A n d help themselves to what th ey need. A h , m any buildings thought secure,T o them present obstruqtions poor,F o r bolts and bars they little care I f but a nail is wanting there 1

A t once, the enterprise so bold Received support from young and oíd.A place to muster near the town.And meeting hour they noted down ; And then retiring for the night,They soon were lost to sound and sight.

A panel gonc, a broken pane,A shingle loose they find like rain. Or, failing these, with ease descend Like San ta Claus and gain their end. A s children to the windows fly A t news of Jum bo passing by,


S o rushed the eager band aw ay T o fields o f ice without delay.Th o u gh far too large at heel and toe, T h e skates wcrc someliow made to go. But out behind and out before,L ike spurs, they sjuck a span or more, A like afflicting foe and friend

T o race in clusters to and fi'o,T o jum p and turn and Ijackward go,Until a rest on bed so cool,W a s more the wonder than the rule.B ut from the lake they all witlidrew Som e hours before the night was through. A n d hastened back with lively feet

In bringing journeys to an end.T h e y had their slips and sudden spreads, W h ere heels flew higher than their heads. A s people do, however nice,W h en venturing first upon the ice.B ut s o o n they learned to curve and vvheel .“in d cu t fine s c ro lls w ith s c o r in g S tee l,

Th rough narrow lañe and silent Street, U ntil th ey reached tlie broker’s door W ith every skate that left the store. A n d , ere the first faint gloam o f day, T h e skates wei'e safely stowed a w a y ; O f their brief absence not a trace W a s left within the dusty place.


T H K L A N D O F F I R E .A T a le c f A d v e n H tre / « T h r m d e i F w g o ,

B y C a p t a i n M a y n e R e í d .

C h a p t e r V I I I .

A FLURRY WITH FUR-SEALS.

A s if Captain G a n c y ’s petition had been heard Ijy Ehc All-raercifu!, and is about to have favorable rcspoiise, the next m orning breaks clear and ca lm ; the fog al! gone, and the sky blue, with a bright sun shining in i t — rarest o f sights in the cloud- lands of Tierra del Fu ego. A l l are cheered b y i t ; and, with reviving hope, eat breakfast in better spirits, a fervent grace preceding.

They do not linger over the repast, as the skipper and Seagriffareim p aticni lo ascend to the sum- init üf the isle, the latter in hopes o f m aking out some remembered land-m ark. T h e place where they have put in is on its west side, and the high ground interposcd hinders their view to the east- wai'd, while all seen north and south is unknown to the oíd carpenter.

They are about starting off, when M rs. G an cy says interrogatively:

“ W h y should.n’t we go, t o o ? ” — m eaning herself and Leoline, as the daughter is prcttily namcd.

“ Yes, Papa,” urges the young g i r l ; “ y o u ’ll take US along, wont you ? ”

With a glance up the hill, to see whethcr the climb be not too difficult, he answ ers:

“ Certainly, d e a r ; I ’ ve no objection. Indeed, the cxercisc m ay do you both good, after being so long shut up on board ship.”

“ It would do us all good ,” thinks H enry Chester— for a certain reason w ishing to be o f the party, that reason, as a n y one m ight see, being Leoline. H e does not speak his wish, however, hackwardncss forliidding, but is well pleascd at hearing her brother, who is witliout bar o f this kind, cry o u t:

“ Yes, Father. A n d tbe other pair o f us, Harry and myself. N either o f us have got our land legs yet, as we found yesterday while fighting the penguins. A little m ountaineering will help tn put the steady into th em .”

“ Oh, very w ell,” assents the good-natured skipper. “ You m ay all come— except Ctesar. He had better stay b y the boat, and keep the fire burning.”

‘ Jess so, massa C ap ’n, an much olaleegecl to ye. Dis chile perfiii- stayin’ . G olly ! I doan’ w ant to

tire m ysef to deff, a-draggin’ up dat ar prcssypiis.’ Sides, I hab got tcr look out fo’ de dinner, ’gainst yer gettin’ b a ck .”

“ T h e d octor” * speaks the truth, in saying he does not wish to accom paiiy them ; being onc of the lazicst mortals that e\'er sat b y a fire. So, without further pariey, they set forth, leaving him b y tho boat.

A t first, they find the up-hill slopo gentle and e a s y ; their path leading through hummocks o f tall tussac,— the tops o f the leaves aw ay above their hcads and the flo'ver-scapcs m any feet higlier. T h eir ch icf difficulty is the spongy nature o f the soil, in which they sink at times ankle-deep. But further up, it is drier and firraer; tho lofty tussac giving place to grass o f humbler stature ¡ in fact, a sward so short that the ground appeai-s as though freshly mown. Here the climbers catch sight o f a num ber o f m oving creatures, which they m ight easily mistake for quadrupeds. H undreds o f them are runniitg to and fro, like rabbits in a warren, and quite as fast. Y e t they are really birds, o f the same specics which supplied so considerable a part o f their yesterclay's dinner and tc-d ay’s breakfast. T h e strangest thing o f all is that these Protean creatures, which sccm fitted only for an aquatic cxistcnce, should be so much at h o n ^ on lánd, so ably using their queer wings as substitutcs for legs that they can run up or down high and precipitpus slopcs with equal ease and swiftness., From the expcrience o f yesterday, the climbers m ight anticípate attack b y tbe penguins. B ut that cxperiencc has taught the birds a lesson, too, which they now profit by, scuttling off, frightcned at the sight o f the murderous invaders, who have made such havoc am ong them and their ncstlings.

On the diier iipland, still another curious bird is encountcrcd, singular in its mode o f breeding and other hnbits. A petrel it is, about the size o f a house pigcon, and o í a slate-bluc color. This bird, instead o f iaying its eggs, like the penguin, on tire surface o f the ground, dcposits them, like the sand-martin and burrowing owl, at the bottom o f a hole. Part o f the ground over which ílie climbere have to pass is honey-com bed witli these holes, and they see the birds passing in and out— Scagriff meanwhile im parting a curious item o f information about them. It is that the Fuegians

■ T h e p o p u la r se a -n a m e fo r a sh ip ’ s cook .


tie strings to the legs o f certain sm all birds and forcé them into the petrcls’ nests ; whereupon the rightful owners, attacking and following the in- truders as they are jerked out b y the cunning decoycrs, are theinselves captured.

Contim iing upward, the slope is found to be stccper, and more difficult than was expected. W h at from below seemed a gentle acclivity turns out to be almost a precipice,— a very common illusion with those unaccustomed to mountain clim bing. B ut they are not daunted— every one o f the m en has stood on the main truck of a tempest-tossed ship. W h a t to this were the m ere scaling o f a cliff? T h e ladies, too, have little fear, and will not consent to stay bclow ; but ínsist on being taken to the very summit.

T h e last quarter proves the most difficult. T h e only practicable path is up a sort o f gorge, rough- sided, but with the bottom smooth and slippcry as ice. It is grass-grown all over, but the grass is beaten cióse to the surface, as if school-boys had been “ co a stin g " down it. A ll except Seagriff suppose it to b e the work of the penguins— he knows better what has done it. N ot birds, but beasts, or “ fish,” as he would cali them — the am phibia in the chasing, killing, and skinning of which he has spent m any years o f his life. E vcn blind-folded, he could have told it was they, b y their peculiar odor.

“ T h em fur-seals liev been up h ya r,” he says. “ T h e y kin cliiiib like cats, spitc o’ thar lubberíy look, and they .delight in baskin’ on high ground.I ’ve know’d ’em to go up a hill stceper an’ h igh er’n this. T h e y ’ve made it as smooth as ice, and w e ’ ll hev to hold on keerfully. 1 guess y e ’d better all stay h ya r till I give it a trial.”

“ Oh, i t ’s nothing, C h ip s,” says young G an cy, “ wc can easily swarra u p .”

H e would willingly take the lead himself, but is Icndlng a hand to his m o th e r w h ile , in like m anner, H en ry Ch cster is intrusted with the care ofLeo lin e a duty he would b e loth to transfer toanother.

T h e oíd sealer makes no more d e la y ; but, leaning forward and clutching the grass, draws himself up the steep slope. In the same w'ay, the C ap tain follow s; tlicn N ed , carefully assisting his m oth er; and lastly, but with no less alacrity, the young Englishm an, helping Leoline.

Seagriff, still vigorous — for he has not much passed manhood’s prime — and unhampered, reaches the head o fth e gorge longbefore the others. B ut as soon as his eyes are above it, and he has a view o f the summit level, he sees there something

to astonisli h im ; the whole surface, nearly an acre in cxtent, is covered with fur-seals, ly in g cióse together like pigs in a sty ! T h is sight, under other circumstances. he would have hailed with a shout o f jo y ; but now it elicits from him a cry o f appre- h ension; for the seáis have taken the alarm, too, and are com ing on in a rush toward the ravine, their only w ay to the water.

“ Thunder an’ airthquakes! ” he cxclaims, in highest pitch o f voice. “ L o ok out thar, below ! ”

T h e y do look out, or rather up, and with no little alarm. B ut the cause o f it none can as yet tell. B u t they see Seagriff spring to one side o f the gorge and catch hold o f a rock to steady himself, while he shouts to them to do the same. Of course, they o b e y ; but they barely have time to get out o f the ravine’s bed, before a stream , a tor- rent, a very cataract o f livin g forms comes pour- ing down it— like monsters in appearance, all open-moutlied and each mouth showing a doubk row o f glittering teeth. A wcird, fear-inspiring procession it is, as they go floundering past, crowding one another, snapping, snorting, and barking, like so m any mastiffs ! F o rtu n a td y for the speetators, tlic creatures are fur-seals, and not the fierce sea-lion s; for the fur-seal is inofíen- sive, and shows fight only whcn forced to it. These are but acting in obedience to the most ordinary instinct, as they are seeldng self-prcscr- vatioii b y retreat to the sea — their true home and haven o f safety.

T h e flurry lasts for but a brief while, ending as abruptly as it began.' W h en all the seáis have passed, our party resumes the ascent and continúe it till all stand upon the summit. B ut not a ll in silence; for turning his eyes north-eastward, and seeing there a snow-covered m ountain,— a grand cone, toweringthousandsoffeet above all the others, — Seagriff phicks off his hat and, w aving it around his head, sends up a joyous huzza, and cries out;

“ N o w I know whar we are better ’n a bul ship- full o’ kompasses an’ kernometers kud tell us. Yon 's Sannienío ! ”

C h a p t e r I X .

A N U N N A T U R A L M O TH ER.

“ Y lS , C ap tin g, th e t ’s Sarm iento, an’ nary doubt o f it,” pursiies the oíd sealer. “ I ’d reck’noise thet mountin ’m ong a m illyun. ’T air the highest in all Few eego .’' A n ’ we must be at the mouth o’ D es’late B a y, jest as I wor siispectin’ . Wa), ’ceptin’ them ugly things I told ye ’bout, we kud n’t be in a better place.”

s u m m i(3 a n d s o m e t im e s l o i t s K 'is e .


•* W h y ’ ” inquires the captain, dubiously. thing ez ’ll help u s ; our coorse is laid out to a p mt“ ’Kase it aint a b ay, at a ll; but the entrance o’ the k o m p iss! A ll we '11 hev to do is to run

iu a soun’ bearin’ the ñame o’ ‘ W h a le Boat Soun’ . ’ east’ard through the B eagle Channel, an’ then ’long

T IIE V H A V B K S R E L Y T I M R T O O E T O U T O F T H E B A V I S E ’ S B E D B E F O E E A T O R R E M T O F L I V I N G F O R M S C O M E S T O U B IN G D O W N I T . ”

An thet’s open water, too, com m unicatin’ w i' the open coast to Clood Success B a y, in the Straits anotherknow nez'D arw in Soun” — tho which larst o’ L e Maire. T h a r w e ’ll be a ’most sure o’ findin’ leads right inter the B eagle C h an n el." some o’ the sealin’ vessels, thet bein’ one o’ thar

“ But what o f all that, C h ip s? H ow can it rcndeyvoos when they ’re fishin’ roun’ Staten help US?’’ L a n d .’’

“ Help u s l W h y , ’t air the very i-dentical “ Y o u think that better then than tryin g to the


northward for the Straits o f M a g e ila n ?” inquires Captain Gancy-

“ Oceans o’ odds better. T o reach M agellan we 'd hcv to work out seaward ag ’ in, an’ back past the ‘ F u ries,’ whar th a r ’s ali sorts o’ cross-currents to contcnd wi’. G oin ’ east’ard through the Beagle, we ’ll hev both wind and tide a’most allers in our favor. ’Sidcs, there ’d be no bother ’¡Dout the coorse. ’T air jest like steerin’ in a river, an’ along the coast ag ’ in. I ’m wall acquaint’ wi’ every inch o’ ’ t.”

T h a t Captain G a n cy, an expcrienced navigator, should be unacquainted w ith the B eagle Channcl m ay seem strange. B ut at the time o f which we write, this rem arkable passage was o f recent discovery, and not yet laid down on the charts.

“ H ow about the other m a tte r ? ” he asks, in h alf whisper, glancing significantly toward his wife and daughter, who are but a few paces off. “ W ill the B eagle coui-se b e any the safer for that ? ”

“ I can’ t say ’t will, sir,” is the answer, in like undertone. “ T h o ’ it wont be any worse. Guess the danger ’ s ’bout equil eytberw ays.”

“ W h a t d a n g e r?” questions young G a n cy, who has overhcard the ugly word.

“ O ’ the g ig gettin’ bilgcd, M ister E d ’ard ,” is the ready, but not truthful, rcjoinder. “ In coorse thar ’s rough seas everywhar through Fireland, an ’ wi’ such a mite o’ a boat, we ’ll hev to be on the keerful.”

“ T h e n ,” says the Captain, his mind made up, after lo n g and m inutely cxam ining sea and coast all around through his glass, “ then b y the B eagle Ch annel be it. A n d we m ay as well set out at once. I can see nothing o f the pinnace. I f she ’d weathered the gale and put in this w ay, they ’d be sure to sail on for the m ain-land. In that case, they m ay sight us when we get well out on the open w ater.”

“ Jest so, C ap tin g ,” says Seagriff, “ an’ as ye perpose, w e mout as well m ake the start now, W c kin gain nothin’ b y stayin’ h ya r.”

“ A ll right, then. L et us be off.”So saying, the skipper takes a last look

through the binocular, with a lin gcrin g hopc that som ething m ay still be seen o f the consort b o a t ; then, disappointed, he leads the w ay down to the landing-place.

T h eir further stay on tho island is for but a fcw m inutes,— while the two youths m ake a fresh raid on the penguinnery, and rob it o f another dozcn o f the young birds, as boat stores. Som e tussac asparagus is also ad d ed ; and then all resume their places on the thwarts, this time with everything properly stowed and ship-shape.

Once more under w ay, they encounter a heavy ground s w e ll; but the breezc is in their fai'or and,

with the sail set, they are able to keep steadily before it. T h e y have no trouble in m aking their course, as the sky is clear, .-urd Sarm iento— an ali- sufficient guidc-post— always visible. B ut although neither Captain G a n c y ñor Seagriff has any anxiety as to the course, both seem anxious about som ething, all the while scanning the water ahead; the skipper through his glass, the oíd sealer with hand shading his eyes.

T h is attracting the attcntion o f young Gancy, sharp at reading facial expression, as-are most raen who follow the sea, he asks, after a tim e:

“ W h a t i s i t , father? Y o u and Chips appear to be troubled about som ething.”

“ W a l, M ister E d ’ard, thar aint cnnythin’ ru- m arkabul in thet, sitiwatcd ez w c a ir ; it ’s only nat. eral to be allers expectin’ trouble o’ some sort. You yaungstere don’t think o’ thet, ez we oíd uns do.’'

T h e oíd sealer has m ade haste to answer a question not put to him . H e fcars that the skipper, in his solicitudc as husband and father, m ay break down, and b etray the secret that oppresscs them.

V a in the attempt at concealing it longer; for the very next instant the Captain him self exclaims:

“ H a ! yonder ! A boat full o f people putting off from the shore ! ”

“ M out it be the pinnace, C a p tin g ? ”“ N o , C h ip s; it ’s some sort o f native craft.

L o o k for yourself. ” A n d lie hands him the binocular.

“ Y e r right, sir,” says Seagriff, after a look through the glass. “ A Few eegin canoe it air, an’ I do believe they ’re Ailikoleeps ! E f so, we may look out for squalls.”

B oth his words and tone tell o f fear,— confessed at last, since he knows it can no longer be con- ccaled. B u t the pthers aro only surprised, for as yet they are ignorant o f a n y danger which may arise from an interview witli the natives, o f whoin they know nothing.

M eanwhile, the canoe has pulled well out from the shore— the northern one — and is evidently making to m eet the gig in mid-water, an encounter wliich can not be avoidecl; the breczc Iseing now light an d

the boat liaving little wayú Seein g it to be inevitable, the Captain s a y s :

“ W e m ay as well show a Irold front, and speak them, I suppose ? ”

“ Y e s ,” assents Seagriff, “ tbet air the best way- ’ Sidcs, thar ’ s no chance o’ our gettin’ past ’cm out o’ reach o’ thar sling-stones. B ut I guess we h cv n’t much to fear from thet lot, e f thar are n t others to jine ’c m ; an’ I don’t see any others.”

“ Ñ o r do 1, ” indovses the Captain, sweeping the shore liiie with his glass. “ I t ’s the only craft 1 can see anyw here.”

“ W a l, it aint on a warlike hender, whether


Aililcoleeporno; seein’ a s t h a r ’sw eem cn an ’ childer enough for h a iü n g ; which, however, they have - 'f So I reck’n thar ’s nothin’ to be skeart about been domg all along, shoutm g m liigh-pitched

’ volees and franticallygcsticulating.

T h e y cry ; “ Ho-sayl ho-say ! ” in quick rep- etition, two o f them standing up and w aving skins o f some sort above their heads.

“ T h et means to hold palaver, an’ hev a dick- er wi’ ’em ,” says Sca- griff. “ T h e y want to trade o(f thar pelts an’ sech like.”

“ A ll right,” assents the Captain. “ Be it so ; and we m ay as well douse the sail and lie b y ; wc ’ic m aking no w ay, anyhow .”

A t this, the sail is lowered away, and the boat lies motionlcss on the water, awaiting the appi oach o f tho canoe.

In a few seconds, the native craft comes paddling up, but for a time keeps beyond gvap- pling distance,— a sii- petfluous precaution on the part of the F u egians, but v ery agree- able to those in the gig. Especially so, now that they have a nearer view o f their visitors. T h ere are, in all, thirteen o f them ; three men, four wom en, and the rest girls and boys of different a g e s ; onc o f the wom en having an infant tíed to hor b y a scarf fastcned over one of hor shoulders. N early a dozen dogs aro in the canoe also,— diminu- tive, fox-like animals with short ears, resera- bling the Esquim aux

jest \’ct, though you niver kin tell for sartin what breed, but smalicr. O f the hum an e le m c n t,--if the critters air up to, till they show it them selves.” hum an it can be called,— all are savages o f the

liy this, the Fuegians have approached near lowest typc and wildcst aspcct, their coarsc, sh aggy

V o L . X I . — 2 1 .

T I I B l U B C .IA N W O M A N C L U T C H K S A T U t O L I S S ' s S C A R F .


and sufficient reason, the Captain says nothing, and lets him have his way.

T h e F a eg ia n women are no less solicitous than the m en about the barter, and eagerly take a hand in it. U nlike their sisters o f civilization, they are willing to part with articles o f personal adorninent; even that most prized b y them , the shell necklace.’' A y e , more, what m a y seem incredible, she witli the ch ild — her own b a b y — has taken a fancy to a red scarf o f China-crape w oin b y Leoline, and pointing first to it and then to the babe on her shoulder, she plucks the little one from its lashings and holds it up with a coaxing expression on hcr countenance, like a cheap-jack tem pting a simple- ton at a fair to purchase a pinchbeck w a tc h !

“ W h atever does the woman w a n t ? ” asks Mrs. G an cy, greatly puzzled; all the rest sharing her wonder, save Seagriff, who answers, with a touch o f anxiety in his voice :

“ She wants to barter off h er babby, m a’am, for that ’ere scarf.”

“ O h ! ” exclairas Leoline, shocked, “ surely you don’t m ean that, M r. C h ip s.”

“ Sure Id o , M iss; neythcr m ore ñor less. T h e t’s jest w hat the unnateral woman air up to. An’ she would n ’t be the first as hez done the same. 1 ’\ e heerd afore u v a Few eegin wom an bein’ willin’ to sell her chile for a purty piece o’ cloth like that.”

T h e shocking incident brings the bargaining to an end. Situated as they are, the gig ’s people ha\'e no desire to Ijurden themselves with Fu egian bric-á- brac, and have consented to the traffic only for tlie sake of keeping on good terms with the traffickcrs. But it has becom e tiresomc ; and Captain Gancy, eager to b e off, orders oars out, the wind having quite died away.

Out go the oars, and the boat is about movingoff, when the inhuman mother tosses her pickaninny into the bottom o f the canoe, and, reaching her long, skinny an n over the g ig ’s stern-sheets, makes a snatch at the coveted sca rf! Sh e would have clutched it, h ad not h er hand been struck down, on the instant, b y the blade of an oar wielded by H en ry Chester.

T h e h ag, foiled in her attem pt, sets up a howl o f angry disappointment, her companions joining in the chorus and sawing the air with threateningarms. Im potent istheir rage, however, for tho craftySeagriff has securcd all their missile weapons; and under the impulse o f four strong rowers, the gig goes dancing on, soon leaving the clumsy Fuegian craft far in its w akc, with the savages shouting and threatening vcngeance.

vogue am one Fuegian belks for neck nüornment is a pearl <_ M ,iyg arik ¡ v io h m a ) ? f P Í I P Í Ían In ch in dromeler. I t is found adhcring to the kelp, and forms tlie chie? food o f several kinds

others the ‘ 's lcam er d a ck ." Shells and shell-fish p k iy a la r g e part in Fuegian domestic ( ! l econnmy. A large kind oibarnacio . ^u p a s P ir u v ia n a ) furnishos their drinking cups; while an edible m o llu s c fi/ h cZ m erfu fu ) .and several species o flim pec f

iheir often scanty lardcr.

hair hanging like loose thatch over low forehcads, and partially shading their little, bleary, red eyes. H ideous are they to very deformity. Ñ or is their ugliness diminished, but rather heightened, b y a variety o f pigm ents,— ochre, charcoal, and chalk, laid thick upon their faces and bodies with anadmixture o f seal oil or blubber. T h e m en are scantily clothed, with only one kind o f garm ent, a piece o f skin hung over their shoulders and lashed across the ch e st; and all the women wearing a sort of apron skirt o f penguin skins.

T h e canoe is a rough, primitive structure; several brcadths o f bark stitched together with sinews o f the seal and gathered up at the ends. A lo n g each side a pole is lashed join in g the gunwaie rail, while several stout pieces laid crosswise seiwe as beam timliers. In the bottom, amidships, is a m ud hearth on which burns a fire, with sticks set up around it to dry, T h ere are three compart- m ents in the craft, separated from one another b y the cross-pieces; in the forward one are various weapons — spears, clubs, and sling-stones — and fishing implcinents. T h e amidships section holds the fire-hearth, the men having place on the forward side o f i t ; the wom en, who do the paddling, are seated further a f t ; while in the stern división are stowed the boys, girls, and dogs.

Such is the picture taken in b y the gig ’s people, and at a g la n c e ; for they have neither tim e ñor opportunity to exam ine it minutely, as the Fuegians keep up a continual shouting and gcsticulating; their hoarse, guttural voices m ingled with the bark- in g o f the dogs m aking a v ery pandemónium of noise.

A sign from Seagriff, however, and a word or two spoken in their O'vn tongue, brings about a lull and an im derstanding, and the traffic com- mences. Sea-otter and fox skins are exchanged for such useless trifles as chance to be in the gig ’s lockers, the savage hucksters not proving exorbi- tant in their demands. T w o or three broken bottles, a couple o f em pty sardine boxcs, with some buttons and scraps o f colorcd cloth, b u y up almost all their stock-in-trade, leaving them not only satisfied, but under the belief that they have outwittcd the akt/ca-akines/i (white men).

Still, th ey continué to solicit further traffic, offering not only their im plem ents o f the chase and fishing, but their weapons o f w a r! T h e spears and slings Seagriff eagerly purchases, giving in ex- ch an gc several effects o f more valué than any yet partcd with, somewhat to the surprise o f Captain G an cy. B ut confident that tho okl sealer has a

• T h e s h e l l m osl ín color, a n d about h a l f an


C h a p t e r X .

S A V E D B Y A W I L L I W A W .

“ W a l ! ’ ’ says the oíd sealer, with an air o f relie?, when he sees that danger past, “ I guess w e ’ve gi’n ’em the slip. B ut w hat a cióse shave ! E f I hecl n’t contrived to dickcr ’em out o’ the sling fixin’s, they mout ’a ’ broke some o’ our skulls.”

“ A h ! th at’s w hy you bought th em ," rejoins the skipper; “ I perceive now w hat you were up to ,” he adds, “ and a good bargain you made o f it, C h ip s.”

“ But why should we have c a r e d ? ” asks H enry Chester, his E n glish blood aroused, and his temper ruftlotl b y the fright given Leoline. “ W h a t had we tu fear from such miserable wretches? Only thrcc men of them, and five o f us ! ”

“ Aye, Mister H en ry, that ’s all true as to the numbers. B ut ef th ey war only one to our five, they would n’t regard the odds, a bit. T h ey ’re like wild animals, an’ fight jest the same.I ’ve seed a Few eegin , only a little mite uv a crit- ter. make attack on a w ’ale-boat’s crew o’ sealers, an’ gi'e sev’ral uv ’em ugly wounds. T h e y don’t know sech a thing as fear, no more ’n a trapped badger. N eyther do thar weem en, who fight jest the same ’s the men. T h a r aint a squavv in that canos as cud n’t stan’ a tusslc wi’ the best o’ us. 'Sides, ye forgit thet w e have n’t any weepens to fight 'era with ’ceptin’ our knives. ” T h is was tru e ; neither gun, pistol, ñor other ofíensive arm having becii saved from th esin king “ Calypso.” “ A n ’ our knives,” he continúes, “ they ’d ’a’ been o’ but little use aginst their slings, w i’ the which they kin send a stone a good hundred yard s.’* A y e , Mister Henry, an’ the speavs, too. E f we hed n’t got holt o’ them, some u v ’era mout be stickin’ in us now. Ez ye m ay see, th ey ’re the sort for dartin’. ”

The English youth, exulting in the strength and vigor of growing manhood, is loath to believe al! this- He makes no response, however, having eased his fcelings, and being satisfied with the display he has made o f his gallantry b y that well- timed blow with the oar.

“ In any case,” calm ly interposes the skipper, “ w cm aybe thankful for getting aw ay from them .”

“ Yis, Capting,” says Seagriff, his face still 'vearing an anxious expression, “ ef w e hev got awa)’ from ’cm, the which aint sartin yit. I ’ve my fears we have n ’t seen the last o’ that u gly lot.”

While speaking, his eyes are fixed on the canoe in an earncst, interrogating gaze, as though

he sees som ething to m ake him uneasy. Such a thing he does seo ; and the next instant he declares, in excitcd to n es;

“ N o 1 L o ok at what they ’ re doin’ ! ”“ W h a t ? ” asks the Captain.“ Sendin’ up a signal smoke, T h et ’s thai' tvick,

an’ ne’er another.”Sure enough, a smoke is seen rising over the

canoe, quite different from that previously observed— a white, curling cloud more like steam or what m ight proceed from straw set on fire. B ut they are not left long conjecturing about it, ere tlieir attention is called to another and similar smoke on the land.

“ Yonner ! ” exclaims Seagriff. “ T h a r ’s the answer. A n ’ yonner, an’ yonner I ” he adds, pointing to other white puffs that shoot up along the shore like the telegraphy of a chain o f semaphores. \

“ ’T air lookin’ bad for us now,” he says in under-tonc to the Captain, and still gazing anxiously toward the shores. “ T h a r ’s Few eegins ahead on both sides, and they ’re sure to put out fur us. T h e t ’s Burnt Island on tho port bow, and C ath ’rine to starboard, both ’habitcd b y Ailikoleeps. T h e open water beyant is W hale-boat Soun’ ; an’ e f we kin git through the narrer atween, w c m ay still hev a chance to show ’em our starn. T h a r ’s a sough in the soun’ , that tells o’ wind thar, an’ onct in it w e ’ll git the help o’ the sail.”

“ T h e y ’re putting out now,” is the Captain’s rejoinder, as through his gkiss he sees canoe after canoe part from the shore, one shooting out at every point where there is a smoke.

W h en clear of the fringe o f overhanging trees, the canoes are visible to the others; fifteen or twenty o f them leaving the land on both sides, and all m aking toward the middle o f the strait, where it is nan-owest, evidently with the design o f heading

off the boat.“ K eep h er well to starboard, C a p tin g !” sings

out the oíd sealer, “ near as m ay be to the p’int o’ C ath ’rine Island. E f we kin git past thet ’ fore th ey cióse on us, w e ’ll be safe.”

“ B ut had n’t w c better put about and put back ? W e can run clear o f them that w a y .”

“ C l ’ar o’ the canoes ahead, y is ! B u t not o’ the others astarn. Look yonner! T h a r ’s more o’ em puttin’ out ahint— the things air evcryw har I ”

“ ’T will Ije safer to run on, then, you think ? ” “ I do, sir. B ’sides, thar ’ s no help for ’t now.

It ’s our only chance, an’ it aint sech a bad un, eyther. 1 guess we kin do it y it.”

‘ Scagrifi-does n o l exaggeraie. T h e ir skill w ith ihis w capon is som elh irg rcraarkahle. Captain ‘ h” * o f it ; " I hav^ih m Mrike a cap, placed upon the slump o f a tic e « f l y or s ix ty olT, w .th a stone from a s i,n g ^ n d aga.n s p c ^ ia gtnctmnier he had with Fuegians: “ I t is aslonishing how ve ry correctly they throw them, and to what a distance. W hen the first stone

c o n v t i n ' ^ & m a l i ; h y means o f signáis visible a . a distance, and as oscilladng .arms or ílags by

«aylighi and iantenis at night. A simple form Is still employed.


“ L a y out to your oars, then, m y lads,” cries the skipper, steering as he has been advised. “ Pulí your best, a l l ! ”

A superfluous com m and that, for already they are straining every nerve, all awake to the danger drawing nigh. N ever in their lives were tliey in greater peril, never threatened b y a fate more fear- ful than that im pending now. F o r, as the canoes com e nearer, it can be seen that thcre are only men in them ; men o f fierce aspect, every one of them arm ed !

'• N a ry woman ñor chile ! ” mutters Seagriff, as

stroke, a retarding wliiff of wind, m ay bring de:ith to those in the gig, or capture, which is the same. Y e t they see life beyond, if they can but reach it,— life in a breeze, the “ so u g h ” on the water, of which Seagriff spoke. It is scarce two cables’ length ahead. Oh, that it were but o re! Still they have hope, as the oíd sealer shouts en- co u rag ln gly;

“ W e m ay git into it yet. Pulí, b o ys; pul) wi’ m ight an’ m ain ! ”

H is words spur them to a fresh effort, and 'he boat bounds on, the oars almost lifting her nut

‘ ARE WE TO ne STONBD TO DRATH ?

though talking to himself. “ T h et m eans war, an’ the white feathers stickin’ up out o' thar skulls, w i’ thar faces chalked like circus ciowns ! W a r to the knife, for sartin ! ”

Still other, if not surer, evidcnces o f hostility are the spears bristling above their hcads, and the slings in their hands, into which they are sccn.slipping stones to lie ready for casting. T h eir cries, too, shrilling over the water, are like the scream s o f ra- pacious birds about to pouncc on prey which they know can not escape them.

A n d now the canoes are approaching m id-chan- ne!, closing in from either side like a V , and the boat must pass between them. Soon it has some o f them abeam , with others on the bows. It is running the gauntlet, with apparently a v ery poor chance of running it safely. T h e failure o f an oar-

of the water. T h e canoes abeam begin to fall astem , but those on the bows are fprging danger- ously n e a r; while the savages in them , now on their feet, brandish spears and wind their slings above their heads. T h eir fiendisli cries and fun- ous gestures, with their ghastly chalked faces, give them an appearance more demoniac than human.

A stone is slung and a javelin east, though both fall short. But will the n ext? T h e y will soon be at nearer range, and the g ig ’s people, absohitel;' without m eans o f protection, sit in fear and trem- bling. Still the rowers, bracing hearts and arms, pulí m anfully on. But Captain G an cy is appalled as another stone plashes in the water closc to the boat’s side, while a third, striking the mast, drops down upon a thwart.

“ M erciful H e a v e n !” he exclaims appealingh'i


as he extends a sheltering arm over the heads of his dear ones. “ Is it thus to end? A re we to be stoned to death ? ”

‘ ‘■Yonner’s a H caven’s m arcy, I do b e lie v e !” savs Seagriff on the instant, “ com in’ to our help ’roun’ B urnt Island. T h e t ’ll b ring a change, suic! ”

,\11 turn the ir eyes in the direction indicated, woiideringwhat he m eans, an d they sec th e water, lately calm, now in violent ag itation , w ith showers ofsjiray dashing up to the h e ig h t of a sh ip ’s m ast.

It ’s a w ill iw a w / " adds the oíd sealer, in joy- 0U5 tone; though a t any o th e r tim e, in open boat, or even decked ship, it would have sen t a thrill of fear through his h eart. Now h e hails it w ith hopc, for he knows th a t the williwaw* causes a Fue- gian the m ost in tense fear, and oft engulfs his crazy craft, with h im self an d all his belongings. And, at sight o f the one now sw eeping tow ard them, the savages instantly drop sling and speav, ceasc shouting, an d cower dow n in the ir canoes in drcad silence.

“ Now ’s our chance, boys ! ” sings ou t Seagriff. “ W i'a dozen m ore strokes we ’O be cl’a r o’ them ,— out o’ tlie track o’ the williwaw, too .”

The dozen strokes are given w ith a will. Two dozen ere the squall reaches Ihem , and when it comes up, it has spen t m ost o f its s treng th , passing alike harmlcssly over boat an d canoes.

But, again, the o ther dan ger threatens. T he Fuegians ave once move upon th e ir feet, shak ing theit spears and yelling m ore furiously th an ever; anger now added to the ir hostility. Y e t louder and more vengefully they shout a t finding pursuit is vain, as they soon do ; for the diversión caused by the williwaw has given the gig an advantage, throiving all the canoes so far astern th a t there is no likelihood of its be in g caught. Even witli the oars •ilone, it could easily keep the distance gained on the slowly paddled craft. I t does b e tte r, however, having found the breeze ; and, with a swollen sail, it glides on down W hale-bo at Sound, rapid ly in- creasing its advantage. On, still 011, till u nd er the gathering shadows of n ig h t the flotilla o f canoes appears like tiny specks— like a flock o f foul birds at rest on the d istan t water.

“ Thar ’s 110 fear o’ them com in’ a rte r us any furrcr, 1 reck’n ,” says the oíd sealer, in a glad voice.

“ And we may th a n k the A lraighty for i t ,” is Captain Gancy’s grateful rejoinder. “ Surely never "■as His hand m ore visibly ex tended for the protection of poor m ortals ! L et us than k H im , all I ”

A nd the devout sk ipper up liñ s his hands in p rayer, the res t reverently listening. A fter the sim ple thanksgiving, h e fei-venüy kisscs, first his wife, th en Leoline. Kisscs o f m utu al congratula- tion, and who can wonder a t the ir b e ing fervent ? F o r they all have been very near to th e ir last em brace on ea rth 1

C h a p t e r XI.W H Y “ l a n d o f f i r e . ”

T h e n ig h t is dow n; b u t, although it is very dark , the boat-voyagcrs do not b ring in to land. T h ey are still far from confident tha t the pursu it has been relinquished ; and, un til it is abandoned, they are still in danger.

Eve long, they have sure evidence th a t it is not ab an d o n ed ; when all along the shores o f the sound flash up fires, which, like the sm oke seen in th e daylight, a re surely signáis. Som e are down upon the beaches, o thers h igh up against the hill-sidcs,— ju st such ligh ts as M agalhaens beheld th ree and a ha lf centuries before, while passing th roug h the s tra it w hich now bears his n a in e .f H enee, too, the ñam e he bestow ed on the unknown country ly ing South o f them , “ T ierra d e lF u e g o ”— “ L and o f F ire .”

T h e fugitives in the gig see fires o n b o th shores,- fifty o r m ore,— the lurid flames symbolizing the fierce, im placable hostility o f the savage m en who' have se t them alight.

“ W c ’re boun’ to keep on till wc ’ve got ’em a l t a s tam ,” counsels Seagriff. “ So long ’s th a r’s a spark ah ead , it ’ll be dangersom e to p u t in. T hey ’d be for head in ’ us off je s t tlie sam e to-m orrcr, cz thar ’s an o ther long narrer to pass atw ccn this an’ D arw in Soun’. ’T a ir a b it lucky the n ig h t bein’ so da rk th a t they can’t sight us from the shore. If they could, we ’d ’a ’ liad ’cm ou t a rte r us now .”

• U n der o rdinary civcumstances, the darkness would m ake it impossible for them to proceed. But, odd iyenough, the very th ing which forces ihem to continué th e ir re trea t assists them in m aking it g o o d ; the fires on e ith er side b e in g like so m any beacon ligh ts, enabling them to hold a course in m id-water. T hus guidcd, they run on as betw een two rows o f Street iam ps, fo rtunately so far from them th a t they do no t vender visible the spread sail. Fortunately, also, on reach ing the next naiTow, where it would otheiwise b e seen, there is a m ist over the w ater. Screened by this, they succeed in passing

T h e ' ' w D í iw a w , " s o m c i im e s c a l l e d t h e “ w o o l e y , " ift o n c o f ih c g r e a t t c r r o r s o f F u e g ia n in l.-in d w a t e r s . I t i s a s o r t o f s q u a l l w i t h a o o w ^ r d d ir e c t io n , p r o b a b ly c a u s e d h y t h e w a r m e r a i r o f t h o o u t s id e o c c a n , o s i t p a s s c s o v e r Ib e s n o w y m o u n la in s , b c c o in ln g s u d d e n ly

^ d r o p p in g w i t h a v i o l e n t n ts h u p o n th o s u r fa c e o f t h e w a t e r , w h ic h s u r g e s u n d e r i t a s i f s tru c ít b y c a r .n o n -s h o t .I r l e d it c o v e r e d th o S tr a its , o r , m o r e p r o p e r l y S t r a i t , in 1519 . H i s ñ a m e is u s u a l ly g i v e n a s “ M a g c l l a n " b y F r e n c h a n d E n g l is h

h k ' * ; , ' ! " ’ S p a n ia rd s m a k in g i t ' ‘ M a g a l l a n e s . ’ ’ B u t , a s h e w a s a n a t i v e o f P o r t u g a l , a n d M a g a lh a e n s is ih e P o r t u g u e s e o r t h o g r a p h y ,siioü ld b e th e o n e p r e f e r r e d . B y s e a le r s a n d o th e r s . T i e r r a d e l F u e g o is o f t e n c a l le d “ F i r e l a n d . " L a d y B r a s s e y

A e s e t ile rs a t “ S a n d y P o in t , ” ín t h e S lr a i l .

’ h e a r d i t s o c a l lé d


th rough it unperceived, an d en te r D anvin Sound ju s t as day is b reak ing . H ere ne ither fires ñor sm okes are observed— some w arran t for the ir bo- lieving th a t they have passed ou t o f the territory o f th e tribe which has a ttacked them .

F o r all, they do no t ye t seek the sh o re ; the w ind is too tcm pting ly in the ir favor, an d they ru n on into the north-w est a rm of the Beagle C hannel, a t leng th b ring in g to in a sm all cove on its S o u th e rn side.

I t is la te aftenioon when they m ake a lan d ing ; ye t they have tim e to choose a cam ping-place ere the n ig h t sets in. N ot m uch choice is there , the only available spo t be in g a t the inner end o f the cove. T here a n iche in th e rocky beach forms a sbrt of n a tu ra l boat-dock, large enough to adm it the gig to m oorings. A nd on the shore adjacent is tho only patch o f b a re ground v is ib le ; a t all o ther poin ts th e trees grow to the w ater’s edge, w ith üverhanging braiiches-

C onfident now th a t the ir late pursucrs have been shaken off, they determ ine on m aking a stay here o f a t least a day or two. A fter th e long spell of laborious w ork, w ith the excitem ent which accom- pan ied it, th ey greatly need rest. Besides, a ll are now very hungry , hav ing h ad no opportunity of cooking au gh t since they left the lan d in g place on the isle.

W h ere they are now, th e re is no difficulty about fire, fucl be ing plentifu l all about. A nd while C ss a r is p rep aring the repast, the o thers transform the boat-sail in to a ten t, by se tting u p the oars, trestle- fashion, an d resting the m ast on them as a ridge- pole.

H aving satisfied the cravings of appetite , and com plcted the ir arrangem ents for passing the n igh t, they sit b y th e fire an d contém plate a landscape which h ith e rto they have b u t glanced at, A rem arkable landscape it i s ; picturesque beyond description, and alto gether unlike the idea gen- erally en tei'ta ined of F ueg ian scenery. T h a t portion o f it which an artis t would term the “ fore- ground ” is the cove itself, which is som ew hat like th e shoe o f a m ulé,— ru n n in g about a hundred yards into the land , while less th an fifty feet across the m outh, Itsshores.ris ing abruptly from thobcach ,are wooded all around with a th ick forest, which covers the steep sides o f the encircling hills as far as can be seen. T h e trees, ta il and grand , are of th ree k inds, alm ost peculiar to T ie ira del Fuego. Onc is a tru e b e e c h ; another, as 'm uch birch as

b e e c h ; the th ird , an arom atic evergreen o f world- wide celebrity, the “ W in te r’s -b ark .” * B ut there is also a grow th o f Ijuried underwood, consisting of arbutus, barberry , fuchsias, flowering currants, and a singular fern, also occurring in tbe is lan do f Juan Fernandez an d resem bling the sam ia o f Australia.

T h e sea-arm on which the cove opens is bui little over a inile in w id th ; its opposite shore being a sheer cliff, rising hundreds o f feet above the w ater, an d indented here an d there by deep gorges w ith thickly wooded sides. Above the ciiff’s crest th e slope continúes on upw ard to a mountain ridge o f m any peaks, one of them a grand cone tow eríng thousands o f feet above all the others. T h a t is M ount D arw in, w rapped in a mantie of never-inelting snow. A long the intermediate space betw een the cliff’s crest an d the snow-line is a bc lt o f w oodland, intersected by w hat might be tak en for strcam s o f water, were it no t for their color. B ut they are too blue, too noiseless, to be w ater. Y et, in a way, th ey are w ater, for they are g lac iers; som e of them abu tting upon the sea-arm, and filling u p the gorges th a t open upon it, with fapades as precipitóos as th a t o f the cliff itself T h ere are strearas o f w ater also which proceed from the m elting of the snow above ; cataracts tliat spout out from the wooded sides o f the ravines, the ir glistening sheen vividly conspicuous am id the greenery o f the trees. Tw o o f these curvingjets, projectcd from w alls.of vei'dure on opposite sides o f a gorge, m eet midway, an d raingling, fallthcnce perpendicularly d o w n ; chang in g , long ere they reach the w ater below, to a colum n o f white spray.

Such is the m agnificent panoram a spread before the eyes o f our castaways, who, despite their forlorn lot, can no t help reg a rd in g it with admiration. Ñ or is the ir wonder dim inished by w hat they see and h ea r cióse a t hand. L ittle expected they to find parro ts an d hum m ing-birds in th a t high lati- tude ; ye t a flock o f the form er ch atter above their heads, feeding on the berries o f the w inter’s-bark; while num bers o f tho la tte r are seen, flittiiig to and fro o r poised on w h iriing w ings before the bell- shaped blossom s of the fuchsias-f F rom the deeper recesses o f the wood, a t intervals comes a loud, cackling cry, resem bling the laugh o f an idiot. It is the cali-note o f the iDlack woodpccker. And as if in responso to . it, a kingfisher, perched on the lim b o f a dead tree by the beach, now and then uttors its shrill, ear-piercing scream .

O th er fishing-birds o f different species fly hitlicr' T h e b e e c h e t n re <n.e F a r e i í B í t i i l o U a omá F . A n í a n h i a . T h e f o r m e r p a r t a k c s a ls o o f ih e c h a r a c t e r q f a h i r c h . I i i s m i e v e r g r e ^

w h i l e Ih e l e a v e s o f i h e o ih e r f a l l o f f in i h c a u l i r a in . T h e " W i n i e r ’ s - b a r k " ( ü ñ m y s W i> t U n ) i s a la i i r e - l ik e c v e r e r c c n , « J i c h p r o a i ic e a n a r o m a t ic b a ik , s o m e w h a t r e s e m b l in g c in n a m o n . l i d e r i v e s i t s ñ a m e , n o t f r o m Ih e s e a s o n , b u t f r o m a C a p t a in W in t e r , w h o h r s i carn eo

t h e b a r k lo E n g la n d ¡n 1 579 , . v T tw ast T h e F u e g ia n p a r r o t , o r p a r o q a e t , i s k n o w n to n a lu r a h s ls a s P e i t t a a is th e h n in m in g * b ir a , a s K in g n . ^

l o n g b e l i e v e d ih a t n e i t h e r p a r r o t s ñ o r h u in in ln g - b ir d s e x U i c d ín T i e r r a d e l F u e g o , — B u ffo n , w í t h h ís u s u a l in c o r r c c tn e s s , a l l e g in g . s p e e im e n s b r o u g h t f t o m i t w e r e U k e n e ls c w h c t e . O t h e r le a r n e d o le s e t -n a tu ra B s t s ¡n s is l e d o n t h e p a t r o t s , r e p o r t e d t o e x is t m e r e , d b

s e a - p a r r o ts ” {a u k s ) .


and thither over the w ater, now quite tranquil, the wind having died away. A flock o f white pelicans, in pursuit of finny prey, swim about the cove, the ir eyes looking into the depths, th e ir long, pick-ax beaks held ready for a plunge. T h en , as a fish is sivhtcd undevneath, down goes head an d neck in a (luick dart, soon to be drawn up w ith the victim writhing betw een the tips o f the m andibles. But tlie prey is no t secured y e t ; as on each pelican attends a nu m ber o f predatory gulls, w heeling over it, and w atching its every m ovem ent with a well-studied in terest. As soon as the fish is brought up, they swoop a t i t from all points with wild screams and flapping wings ; an d as the pelican can no t swallow the fish w ithout first toss- ing it upward, the toss proves fatal to its purpose. The prey let go, instead o f falling back into the

w ater, or down the pouch-like gulle t he ld agape for it, is caug h t by one or m ore of the gulls, and those greedy birds continué the fight am ong them selves, leaving the pelican they have robbcd to go d iving again.

N ig h t comes on, b u t no t w ith the darkness an- ticipated. F o r still another wonder is revealcd to them ere closing their eyes in sleep — the long continuance o f twilight, far beyond any th ing of the k in d they have ever cxperienced. B ut its cause is known to them ; the strange phenom enon being due to the fact tha t the sun, for some tim e after i t has sunk below the horizon, continúes to shine on the glistening ice o f the glaciers and the snow of the m ountain sum m its, thus producing a weird reflection in the heavens, som ew hat resem bling the A u ro ra Boi-ealis 1

( T o be c o n iin n e d .)

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A N E N G R A V E R O N W H E E L S .

By W . Le w is F r a s e r .

H a ve you ever seen a woocl-engraver a t w ork ? N o? W ell, th en , you probably have a t some tim e taken a ring, or a watch, o r a dim e for a bangle, to an engraver, to have your ñam e o r initials cut upon it. A n d if you have stood an d w atched the work done, you have noticed th a t the engraver used a m agnifying glass, a p ad m ade o f lea ther (and filled with sand), an d perhaps a h a lf dozen sm all Steel tools with queer little wooden o r cork handles. A nd w hen he p u t the m onogram upon the ring o r ban g lc which you handed him , he went to w ork in th is w ay : H e first raised the m agnifying glass to his eye, and, by a curious tr ic k “ screwing up ” the m uscles round about it, he ld it in place th e re ; th en he took the th in g to b e engraved in his left hand , laid it on the p ad (called a sand-bag), an d , w ith one o f th e queer little tools in his rig h t h an d , cu t the le tte rs into the m etal.

Now the engraver who m akes a stecl p íate for p rin tin g works in the sam e m anner,— in faCt, your ñam e upon the bangle would print.w ere you to take som e very th ick p r in tin g ink , rulj it well into the engraved linos (carefully w iping off the surround- ing pa rts with the hall o f the hand , however, so as to leave the ink in th e lines only, and the res t o f th e surfacc clcan), lay a piece o f paper on it, and take an im pression b y rubbing , o r w ith your am ateu r p rin tin g press.

O f course, you know th a t such pictures as you see in books or in S i . N ic h o la s have to be engraved upon som e surface from which an im pression can be taken before th ey can b e p rin ted in the book or the m agazine. A nd you probably know th a t the two principal k inds o f engravings are steel-engravings an d vvood-engravings.

T hese two k inds o f engravings, however, are p roduced by d irectly opposite m ethods. In one, the lines th a t are to ink the p aper are cu t into the surface o f the píate, so tha t th ey will hold th e ink like grooves, an d the res t of th e surface will be perfectly sm ooth an d clcan. (T h is is the process followed in s teel-engraving.) In the o ther mode, w hich is followed in wood-cngraving, the lines that a re to ink the paper are left standing, while the pa rts betw een are cu t aw ay from the surface o f the block, so th a t if an ink ro ller should be passed over an engrav ing o f this k ind it would leave all the lines tipped with a coating o f ink, while the grooves an d spaces between the lines would have no in k ; o r if they had , would no t touch the paper, as they are really little kollows betw een the lines.

T h is process corresponds, in p rin ting , with printing from typc, the lines of the engrav ing corresponding to the surface o f the types (which takes the ink ), and the hollowed-out lines, o r the grooves betw een the lines, co rresponding to the spaces betw een the types.

A s the lines in a good wood-engraving have to be very th in , you will see a t once how necessary it is for the wood itself to b e o f a firm an d strong fiber th a t will no t break , or split, o r “ crum ble” easily. A nd, indeed, the wood used for engraving is one o f the hardest known. I t is box-wood, and is obtained alm ost cxcliisivcly from T urkey and A sia M inor. T he grain o f bnx-wnod is exceeti- ingly cióse an d sm ooth, an d engravers’ “ blocks” consist o f slices each ab o u t an inch th ick and usua lly from two to four inches square, cu t across the grain o f the tree . T h e box-tree does no t grow to

any considerable size, an d w hen a large block is desired it has to be m ade by screwing an d glueing a num ber o f sm all blocks toge ther very tightly and securely. I t is said th a t it would take more th an one hun dred years for a box-tree to gro'v large enough to furnish a hlock in one piece of a size sufficient to include the whole o f the engraving, “ A M idw inter N ig h t,” which form s the frontis- piece o f this m on th’s S t . N ic h o la s . T h a t picture is in reality engraved upon nine blocks of box- wood, closely jo ined together.

You will u nderstand from the account o f the m anner in which w ood-engravings are m ade that the w ood-engraver has to m ake two lines «úth his g raver to form one which will p rin t. W ith youi- bangle, you ru bbed the stiff ink into the lines, and the pressure o f rubbing upon the paper lifted the ink ou t o f th e lines and left it on the p a p e r ; but the wood-block will no t have ink rubbed into it, b u t ju s t a ro ller covered with in k passed over d., leaving ink on the surface o f the block, to be picked up by th e sh e e t o f paper which com es in con- tac t w ith it. So, as I have said, tbe wood-cngravcr m ust sink two lines in the block to m ake one Une which will prin l. O f course, considering the hard- ness o f the wood an d the delicacy required for the lines, th is is very slow an d tedious work. You m ay easily form som e idea o f how tedious it is by p lacing a penny over any portion o f an engraved pic ture ,— such as th a t o f M onkstown Castle, in the D ecem ber num ber o f S t . N i c h o l a s ,— m aking a iigh t m a rk around the penny with a black Icad- pencil, and then by the aid o f a m agnifying glass


n iB . K I K C S L E V A T W O R K I N H I S C A K - S T U D IO .


A S Q U A F E IK C H O F A N B N G R A V I N G S H O W IN C " S T O P S .”

counting the lines w ith in the circle. You will see th a t your penny has covered. m ore than one h un dred lines ; an d then you m ust rem em ber th a t at every place w here th e shad ing in the draw ingw hich the engraver is engraving grows lig h te r or darker he has to change th e w idth o f the l in e ; for ju s t in proportion to the thickness o f the b lack line left between the two white ones will b e the “ t i n t ” or “ color ” o f th e corresponding portion o f the printed picture. T hese changes are called b y engravers “ stops.” A nd w here the re are m any of these, one square inch o f engrav ing is a fair day’s work.

I have spoken o f a drawing , for the engraver always h a s a draw ing to work from.Som etim es it is m ade upon the wood-block, b u t it is m ore frcquently m ade by the a rtis t m uch larger than the block on which it is to be engraved, an d a reduced copy o f it produced upon the block b y photography.B y th is p lan , the artis t can w ork m uch m ore freely, an d the engraver is enabled to have the large draw ing in front o f him , besides the reduced copy o f the sam e which he is cu tting in to lines upon the block.

You see, the engraver is a copyist. H e copies the artis t’s draw ing, an d the p rin ting press dupli- cates his copy thousands o f tim es, so th a t you and 1 m ay see the draw ing too. A nd b e ing a copyist, his am bition is to m akc his copy exactly represent the th in g which he is copying. A nd to th is end, he often, even after he has been given a beautiful draw ing o f some object, seeks for the rea l object, and places it before h im for s tudy an d com parison while a t work. Mr. M arsh, the engraver, d id so when m aking h is wonderful engravings o f m oths an d butterflics, pub lished in a book called “ Insccts Injurious toV egeta tion .” A nd it is said th a tT h o m as Bewick, who has been called “ the fa ther o f inod- ern w ood-engraving,” followed the sam e p lan when m aking his engravings of “ British B irds.”

B ut it is only w ithin the last two years th a t it has occurred to an en g rav er— not to b rin g birds and m oths in to h is s tu d io — b u t to m ake a studio which could go ou t into th e fields an d woods and find n o t only the b irds and m oths, b u t trees and fcrns, and flowers, an d even m ou n ta in s ; in fact, all such th ings as the artist goes to seek, and, having found, m akes into pictures. 1 refcr to E lbridge Kingsley, the engraver o f “ A M idw inter N ig h t,” the frontispicce o f th is num b er o f ST. N ic h o la s . H e has b u ilt for h im self a car, no t unlike w hat you will som etim es see the gypsics have. I t is divided in to w hat we m igh t ca li the artistic, culinary, and

m arine d e p artm cn ts ; for, a lthough it is b u t ten feet long, th ree and a h a lf feet wide, and seven feet high, it includes a studio, a k itchen , and a boat. I t is bu ilt o f very lig h t, h a rd wood, an d has a slightiy curved roof covered w ith zinc to shed the rain, a little window in front, really the gab le end, and an en trance door on one side w ith a window on each side o f it. O n th e opposite side is a la rger window, and in the o ther gable end there is a door leading ou t to the k itchen. O ne h a lf o f th e studio, to the h e ig h t o f the window-sill, is occupied b y a table or desk to work on, an d a chcst o f d raw ers ; an d on bo th sides o f the window, above this, a re many sm aller draw ers filled w ith engraving tools, paper, wood-block, colors, etc. T h e desk o r table is form ed from a portion o f the side w hich lifts up, leaving an open space in th e side o f th e car, for the engraver’s feet. B ut the m ost curious portion o f the whole is the b ed ; for you m ust know thal this ca r is M r. Kingsley’s house and hom e for wecks a t a tim e. In o th e r words, h e lives, works, cooks, and sleeps in i t— som etim es in th e lo n cp in e woods, far from any house, the nearest ncighbor being m iles away — som etim es in th e shadow of Mount T om — som etim es on the ou tskirts o f a New England village. W ell, w hen he wishes to go to bed ho lifts up the top o f the desk, le ts dow n the side, and, presto ! h is bed is m ade !— for w hat appears to be a desk is really a bedstead, with curta ins, mattress, pillow, sheets, an d blankets.

A t one en d o f th e studio is fixed a kerosene stove and its fu rn itu re ; over it a ventilator. AL about the u pp er p a rt of the car, are useful shelves an d hooks. E ach window consists o f a single pane o f glass, m ade to slide in sockets like those in a horse-car, fittcd w ith biinds, an d in h o t weather with m osquito-bars. E ach window is also fitted with p re tty curtains o f m aterial m a tch ing in color the in terior o f the studio, w hich is o f a palé buff tint.

F ro m the studio a step takes one into the k itchen , w hich is also a un ique affair— a sott of portico-like extensión, with a zinc roof a little lower th an the m ain roof o f the car. T h e sides are corn- posed o f a ligh t fram e, running nearly to the ground an d fitted w ith shelves. T he ou u ide opening ofthe k itchen is closed by a ligh t arched trcllis o f an oval form , and in storm y w eather the whole is covered with w ater-proof curtains. T h e k itchen contains a zinc rcservoir for water, ho ld ing about thirty gal- lons; a t its side is a sink fitted w ith a waste-pipe, — and capable o f b e ing pushcd un d er the studio when not in use, —and over th e reservoir is a cupboard for ho ld ing odds an d cnds.

B ut perhap s the m ost pecu liar th in g about tlic k itchen is th a t it is always carpcted , although the carpet is often ch ang ed — b ein g sometimes of


creen, velvety turf, som etim es o f a b ed o f ferns, and som etim es o f beautifu l russet-colored dry le a v e s — which m eans th a t the k itchen has no floor, b u t is sim ply a sort o f en larged porch.

The whole o f the house, studio, an d k itchen is built on a fram e with four wheels, no t unlike an ordinary country lum ljer wagón, an d is dragged by a horse w herever the needs o r w him s o f the artist take him.

The “ m a rin e” departm en t is an annex. I t

m ade directly from na ture , th a t is to say, he h ad no draw ing to work from, b u t drew his little m ovable house opposite th e landscape he wished to portray, and engraved upon a wood-block the scene h e saw, — witli such omissions and alterations as were needful for a proper ‘ ‘ composition ” o f th e picture. Some of the work was done in the studio, sitting a t the desk which has been described and looking th roug h the open window; b u t m ore was done under the shade o f a convenient tree, the artist

\ <:'v: i' \ 4 ’' ' ' i '

S E T T L E D F O R A FE W * D A Y S W O R K .

consists of a very lig h t b o a t fitted with outriggers fcir the oars, and a sliding seat, an d m ounted on a pail of wheels for lan d tvansportation.

W hen ready for traveling shafts are p u t to the ca r; a horse harnessed in th e m ; the rcins passed in through the little window in th e front g a b lc ; tho boat fastened by a b o lt to the k itchen b e h in d ; all glassware and crockery packed in the desk-bed and in a box which is k ep t undernea th the c a r w hen in cam p; then, with a good supply o f canned foods, the artist is ready for weeks or m onths of work, either skotching or engrav ing (for he does bo th ), in the woods.

And now a few words as to h is m cthod of work, The first original block which Mr. K ingsley m ade was “ In a New E ng lan d F o res t,” published in The

for N ovem ber, 1882. T his was

hold ing his block in one hand an d his graver in ihe o ther, w orking in a free-h an d m anner, no t only cutting, in to lines, which could be prin ted , forms already on his block, b u t draw ing othere w ith the graver, a difficult feat if we rem em b er how m any lines have to be m ade in onc square inch of a wood- block, and th a t these m ust be cu t in to a h a rd surface with a Steel tool, an d th at in engraving th ere is no m eans of erasing a line once made.

N o t all Mr. Kingsley’s blocks have been produced in this way, however. M ost o f his la te r work is m ore the resu lt o f observation o f na tu re th an a d i r e c t copy from an actual scene. T h u s, “ A tS e a ,” p rin ted in The Century for A pril, 1883, grew o u t of the article which accom panied it. M r. Kingsley m any m ade trips down N ew Y ork B ay, s tudying effects o f cloud and w ater, m aking m em oranda in


p en d í and black and w h ite; and from these he evolved his beautiful picture. A n d so, too, with “ A M id-winter N igh t.” O f course, the artist could not sit out o f doors upon such a night to m ake an engraving, ñor even sit at the window o fh is car to look out upon what, b y contrast with the light within, would be nothing but blackness. B u t on m any a rough winter night has he wrapped hirn- self in a warm coat and gone out into the wild storms to study júst such an effect as this, fixing in his m ind some needed detail, and upon returning horae transferring it to the w ood-block; until at last, when he sets out to m ake an engraving which shall em body all these impressions, he gives US in this frontispicce a truthful reprcsentation o f

such a night as we should choose to spend in stay- ing at home.

T h u s you will see that Mr. K ingsley’s work is original— that is, he makes the picture as well as the engravings. B ut do not interpret this statement as belittling the w ork o f other engravers. I f all cngravers chose to be originators only, the thousands o f readers o f S x . N i c h o l a s would not have the pleasure o f seeing Édouard F rére’s “ Voung G u a rd ,” ñor the m any other reproductioiis of beautiful and celebrated paintings which have been published in this magazine. A n d it requires not only a high degree o f m echanical skill, but fine artistic knowledge and feeling, to faithfully rendcr the forms and tints o f a good draw ing or painting.

T H E C R I C K E T ’ S V I O L I N .

B y L a u r a F . H i n s d a l e .

" A h , m e ! A h , me ! ” a cricket said, “ G randm othcr G ra y has gone to bed:

N o one listens but little Fred T o all the tunes I p la y ;So I will hop aw a y.”

W ith m any a weary hop-hop-hop T b e cricket reached the chimney-top. But, ah ! the people did not stop !

N one heard in all tbe din T h e cvicket's violin.

I Ti climb the chim ney, and begin T o play m y dulcet violin.T o o long I ’ve w a ited ; ’t is a sin

F o r Genius thus to stay H id from the light of day ! ”

T h e cricket played in every key, From do, f a , la, to do, re, m i ; F ro m a, b, c, to x, y, z,

H e played both slow and fast,— T h e heedless crowd went past.

Poor little Fred began to moan : G randm other G ra y , the cricket ’s g o n e ! A n d you and I are left a lo n e!

A la s ! I fear,” he said,“ T h e sum m er time is dead ! ”

Ja c k F rost cam c 'round and nipped his bow, A n d then the m usic was so low,T h e cricket cried in tone o f w o e :

“ Oh, for the hearthstone bed,T h e ears o f little F r e d ! ”


H I S T O R I O B O Y S . *

B y E . S . B r o o k s ,( A u U t o r o f " T h e F i e l d 0 / t h e C M k o f C o i d " a n d " C o m e d ie s f o r C h i l d r e » . " )

I.

M A R C O S O F R O H E ; T H E B O Y M A G 1 5 T R A T E .

( A f t c m u a r d th e E m f e r o r M a r c u e A n r e l i n s A n t o n im ie .)

[ a . d . 1 3 7 . ]

A P E R F E C T autumn day. A bove, the clear sky of Italy; below, a grassy plain, sloping gently ciown froni tlie bro'vn cliffs and ruincd ramparts of oíd V eii. In the background, under tbe shade of the oaks, a dozen w aiting attendants ; and here, in the open space before us, three trim and sturdy Román youths, all flushed with the exercise o f a vuyal gam e o f ball. Com e, boys and girls of 1S84, go back with me seventcen and a h a lf centuries, and join the dozen lookers-on as they follow lilis three-coniered gam e o f ball- T h e y cali it the Irisan. It is a favorite ball-gam e with the Rom án youth, in which the three players, standing as if on a right-angled triangle, pitch and catch the ball, or p ila , at long distances and with the left hand only. It is not so easy as you m ay think. 'ir)' it some time and see for yourself.

“ T h i s way — toss it this w ay, A u fid iu s; our good Sejus will need more lessons from oíd T ri- malchio, the gladiator, ere he outranks us at

And with a quick but guai'ded dash o f the left hand the speaker caught the ball as it carne spinning toward him, and with as vigorous a “ left- hander” sent it flying across to young Scjus.

“ Faith, m y M arcus,” said Sejus, as he caught the ball with difficulty, “ the gallop from Lorium has made me som ewhat stiff o f joint, and I pitch and catch but poorly. K eep the p ila flying, and 1 may grow m ore elastic, though just now 1 feel like our last text from Ep ictetu s— ‘ a little soul hearing about a corpsc.’ ”

“ W h at then ! A rt as stilT as that, oíd Sejus r ” gayly shouted Aufidius. “ H o ! brace thec up, man,” he cried, as he sent the ball whirling across to M arcus; “ bracc thee up, and use rather the words of our wise young Stoic h ere— ‘ B e like the proraontory against which the waves continually brcak, but it stands firm and tames the fury o f the waters around it.’ ”

“ ’T is well appliecl, Aufidius. R u t— said I all that?” Marcus inquired.

“ A y , so didst thou, m y M arcus. ’T is all

down on m y tablets.” A n d with m erry talk the gam e went on-

B ut soon oíd Ballio, the crdinariu s, or upper servant, left the oak shade and said to M arcus, “ Com e, m y m aster; the water-glass shows that w e must soon ride on if we mean to reach Rom e by dinner-Cimc.”

So the gam e was broken off and, after a few nibbles at the cakes and sweetmeats which one o f the slaves carried to “ stay the stom achs” of the travelers, the cali “ T o horse ! ” was given, and the party m oved on toward the city. T h e spirits o f the lads ran h ig h ; and though the one called M arcus had a scdate and quiet look, he was roused into healthy and hearty boyishness as, over the Etruscan plains, they galloped on to Rome.

T h e y had been riding, perhaps, a short half hour, when they saw, coming down a cross-road that entcred the highw ay just beyond them , a large flock of sheep returning from their summer pasturage on the hills, in charge o f three shepherds and their families. T h e gam e and the gallop had made the boys ripe for m isch ief; for, though cióse and patient stuclents, they were in their houi-s o f sport as ready for a frolic as are any school-boys o f to-day.

T h e shepherds, seeing a party o f hard riders coming toward them, looked at their sheep anxiously and eycd the strangci;s suspiciously. Fo r sheep-stoaling was o f common occurrcnce in those days, and, when changing pastures, the shepherds iverc kept constantiy on tho watch.

T h e quick eye o f Aufidius m arked tbc suspicions

o f the shepherds-“ W h y , M arcus,” he exclaimed, “ yonder fel-

lows surely take us for highw aym en.”“ H ighw aym en, in d e e d !” said Sejus indig-

nantly. “ D ost think the knaves could mistake the noble M arcus V cru s for a cowardly sheep-

stealer ? ”“ A n d w hy n o t ? ” said M arcus, laughingly.

“ M an looks at man but as his reason tells him. I f shepherds look but for sheep-stealers, to them, at first, all men are sheep-stealers. C o m e,” he added, gayly, “ let us not disappoint them . W h a t did our teacher Rusticus tell us but yesterd ay:‘ T h a t which is an hinderance is m ade a further- ance to an act, and that which is an obstacle on the road helps us on the road.’ Sh all w e not put

■ C o p y r i g h t , 1 8 8 3 , h y E . S . B r o o k s . A l l r i g h t s r e s e r v c d .


his text to the test ? Behold our obstacle on the road ! L et us ride down the sheep ! ”

T h e spirit o f m ischief is contagious. Down the high w ay dashed the whole party, following the lead o f M arcus and his cry o f “ Forw ard, friends! ” while the now terrified shepherds turned their huddling sheep around, and with m any cries and much belaboring struggled back to the cioss-road to escape the pretended robbers. B ut the swift horses soon overtook the slow-footed shepherds, and the laughing riders, with uplifted weapons and shouts o f seem ing victory, were quickly at tho hecls o f the fiock. T h e n carne a change. Th e shepherds, finding that they could not outrun their pursucrs, stopped, wheeled around, and stood on the defcnsive, layin g valiantly about them with crook and staff.

“ G o on and increase in valor, O h o y ! this is the path to im m ortality,” shouted the nimble Aufidius, and with this quotation from V irgil, he swooped down and caught up a struggling lamb-

“ W h a t says your philosophy now, O M arcus ? ” said Sejus as, rather ruefully, he rubbed an aching shin, sore from the ringing thw ack o f a shepherd’s crook.

M arcus dodged a similar blow and replied : “ T h a t nothing happens to any m an, O Sejus, which he is not fitted by nature to bear. But I have had enough. L et us go our w ay in peace.”

A n d turning from the fray, the whole p arty i-ode rather ingloriously from the field o f defeat, while the victorioiis shepherds vovved a lam b to Pales, the patrón o f shepherds, for their deliverance from so “ blood-thirsty ” a band o f robbers.

S o , flushed and m erry over their adventure, the three lads rodé on to R o m e ; l)ut, ere they carne in sight o f the yellow T ib cr, a flect Num idian slave carne running toward them , straight and swift as an arrow, right in the m iddle o f the highway. M arcus recognized him as one o f the runners of his uncle, the procónsul T itu s Antoninus, and wondered as to his mission. T h e N um idian stopped short at sight of the party, and, saluting M arcus, handed him a sm all scrolí. T h e boy unrolled it, and at once his face becam e grave.

“ F o r m e; this for m e ? ” he said, and, in seem ing surprise, laid his hand upon the arm o f his friend Aufidius. T h en , as if rem em bering that he was a Stoic, whose dcsire was to show neither surprise, pleasure, ñor pain, let what m ight happen, he read the scroll carefully, placed it in his m antle and said, h a lf aloud, “ H ow ridiculous is he who is surprised at anything which happens in

life ! ”“ W h a t is it, O M arcus ? ” Aufidius asked.“ F rien d s,” said the lad, “ this scroll from m y

U nele Antoninus tells me that I am nam ed b y the

' G o v e r n o r o f t h e c í t y . t “ N o t t r u e , b u t m o s í t r u e ! ”

Em peror’s council as P refect* o f the city while the consuls and m agistrates are at the Latin gam es.”

“ H a il to thce, P re fe ct! h a i l ! hail I h a il! ” cried Aufidius and Sejus, while the whole company joincd in a respecCful salute.

“ W ou ld it were some one m ore worthy than I, Aufidius,” said M arcus solemnly.

“ N a y , it is righ tly decreed, m y M arcus,” pro- tested his friend proudly. “ Did not the Emperoi- him self say of tliee : ‘N o n Veras, sed Verissimus ! ’f and who but thee, M arcus Verissim us — Marcus the most true— should be the governor o f R o m e?”

“ B ut think o f it, friendsI I am but a boy after all. W h o can respect a Prefect o f sixtccn ?” still quetied the modest Marcus.

Sejus at once dipped into history.“ A n d w h y not, O M a rcu s?” he asked. “ Was

not Tibcrius C s s a r a public orator at nine, and Augustus a master o f the horse at seventeen ? W a s not T itu s a q u testo rí befóte he was eighteen. and the grcat Julius him self a priest o f Júpiter at fourteen? A n d shall not M arcus Verus, in whose veins runs the blood o f the ancient kings, rightly be prefect o f the city at sixteen ? ”

“ T h o u art a good pleader, m y Seju s,” Marcus said pleasantly. “ Since, then, I m ust be prefect, m ay I be a just one, and take for m y motto the text o f the good R u sticu s; ‘ I f it is not right, do n o t d o it ; if it is not true, do not sa y it.’ Forward, m y good friends! T h e lictors await me at the city gate.”

So they pressed forward and, with more dc- corum, rodé along the V ia Cassia and across the M ilvian Bridge to the broader V ia L a ta and the city gato. H ere an escort o f six lictors with their rods o f office welcomed M arcus, and, thus accom- panied, the youirg m agistrate passed down the Via L a t a — the Street now known as “ the Corso,” the Broadw ay of modern R o m e — to the palace of his uncle Antoninus, near the Ccelian gate.

“ H ail, Prefect I ” cam c the welcom e o f the no- l)le uncle (one o f the grand characters of Román history). “ A n d how fare the hons at Lo riu n i?” F o r the good procónsul, so soon to iDe hailed as Carsar and Em peror, loved the coun tiy pleasiircs and country cares o f his farm at Lorium more than all the sculpturcd m agnificence o f the imperial city.

“ T h e hens are well conditioned, O Antoninus," answered the boy sim ply.

“ B ut what said I ? ” his uncle exclaimed gayly. “ W h a t cares a prefect o f R om e for the scratching hens o f Loriu m ? A s for m e, most noble Prefect, I am but a m an from whom neither power nor philosophy can take m y natural affections ” ; andi as the parrot sw inging over the door-way croaked

• A n officcr ot t h e ircasury.


out his “ S a l v e ! " (W elcom e !) arm -in-arm unclc and nephew entered the palaco.

Marcus A nnius V en ís was in all respects a model boy. N o t the nam by-pam by model that all human boys cletest, but a right-m inded, right- mannered, healthy, w ealthy and wise young R o mán of the second century o f the Christian era. At that time (for the world was not yet Christian- hed) there flourished a race o f teachers and phi- losophers known as Stoics, wise oíd pagans, who held that the perfect m an must be free from passion, unmoved b y either jo y or grief, taking everything just as it carne, with supreme and utter indifference. A hard rule that, but this lad’s teachers had been mainly o f the “ School of the Stoics,” as it ivas called, and their wise sayings had made so deep aii impression on the little M arcus that, when only twelve years oíd, he set up for a full-fledgcd Stoic. He put on the coarse m antle that was the peculiar dress o f the sect, practiced all their severo rules of self-denial, and even slept on the hard floor or the bare ground, denying him self the comfort o f a bed, until his good mother, who knew what was best for little fellows, even though th ey were stoics, persuaded him to compromise on a quilt- H e loved cxercise and m an ly sp o rt ; but he was above a lia wonderful student— too m uch o f a student, in fact; for, as the oíd record States, “ his excess in study was the only fault o f his youth .” A n d yet he loved a frolic, as the adventure with the shephcrds proves.

Of the best patrician blood o f oíd R o m e ; the relative and favorite o f the great Em peror H adrian; a great scholar, a capital gym nast, a true friend, a modest and unassuming lad ; he w as trying, even at sixteen, to make the best o f himself, squaring all his actions b y the rule that he, in after years, put into words: “ I do m y d u ty ; other things troublc me not.” M anly bo ys, with good principies, good manners, and good actions, are youn g gentle- mcn always, whenever and w herever they m ay l iv e ; and quickly enough, as did yo un g M arcus o f Rorae, they find their right place in the regard and añections of the people about tbcm.

Well, the days o f w aiting have passed. Th e great festival to Jove, the Fe ria e Latinae, has drawn all the high m agistrales to M ount A lljanus, and in their stead, as prefcct o f the city, rules the boy Marcus. In one o f the basilicae, or law courts of the great Forum , he sits investcd with the toga o f office, the ring and the purple b a d g e ; and, while twelve sturdy lictors guard his enrule chair, be listens to the cases presented to him and makes many wise decisions— “ in which honor,” says the oíd record, “ h eacqu itted him self to the general appiobation.”

“ Most noble Prefect,” said one o f the court

messengers, or accensi, as they were called, “ there waits, without, onc Lyd u s the hcrdsroan, demand- ing justice.”

“ B id him enter,” said M arcus ; and there carne into the basílica one whosc unexpectcd appearance brought consternation to Aufidius and Sejus, as they waited in the court, and caused even the calm face o f M arcus to flush with surprise. Lyd u s the herdsman was none other than their oíd ac- quaintance, the shepherd o f the Etruscan high- w ay !

“ Most noble Prefect,” said the shepherd, with a low salutation, ‘ ' 1 am a free herdsm an o f Lake Sabatinus, and I ask for justice against a band of terrible highwaym en who lurk on the V ia Cassia, near to oíd V eii. Only three days since, did these lawless fellows iDeset me and m y companions, with our flocks, on the highw ay, and cruelly rob and m altreat us. 1 p ray theo, let the cohortes vig ilu m (arm ed pólice) search out and punish these rob- b e rs ; and let m e, too, be fully satisficd for the sheep they did forcé from m e.”

“ N o t so fast, m an ,” said M arcus, as the shepherd concluded his glib recital. “ Cou ldsLth ou ídentify these knaves, if once th ey were appre- hended ? ”

“ A y , that could I, noble Prefect,” replied the shepherd, boldly. “ T h e y were led on b y three villainous rascals, and these h ad with them a crowd ofriotous followers.”

“ H a ! is it so ? ” said M arcus. “ A ufidius! S e ju s!I pray you, step this w a y .” H is two friends, in some wonder as to his intcntion, approachcd the tribunal; and M arcus, stepping down from his enrule chair, placed him self between them. “ T h ree villainous rascals, thou didst say. W e rc they aught like us, think'st thou ? ”

“ L ike yo u ? O noble young P r e fe c t !” began the shepherd, protestingly. B u t when, at a word from M arcus, the three lads drew b a ck their arm s as if to brandish their wcapons, and shouted their cry o f attack, the mouth o f L yd u s stood wide open in amazement, his cropped head fairly bristled with fright, and, witli a hasty ex- clamation, he turned on his heel, and ran out of the basílica.

“ H o, bring him back ! ” M arcus com m anded ; and, guarded b y two lictors, L yd u s w as dragged reluctantly back into the presence o f the young prefect.

“ So, m y shepherd,” said M arcus, “ thou hast recognized thy villainous rascals surely, though thy fear was larger than thine eyeballs ; for thou didst m ultiply both the followers and the liarm done to thee. Th ou hast asked forjustice, and justice thou shaiC have ! Forasm uch as I and m y companions did frighten thee, though but in sport, it is wise to


do well what doth seem but just. I, then, as Prcfect o f the city, do fine M arcus Annius Verus, Aufidius Victorianus, and Sejus Fruscianus, each, one hundred sestertii (about five dollars), for intcr- fering with travelers on the public h igh w ay; and I do com m and the lictors to m ark the offenders

fines, and, handing the m oney to an accensns, bade him p ay the shepherd. W ith m any a bow, Lyd u s accepted the m oney, and with the words, “ O noble young P re fe ct! O wise beyond thy years ! ” he would have withdrawn again.

“ H old ! ” said M arcus, ascending the tinbunal,

I

A N N I A T E A S E S H E R P R T C A T , D ID O . [ S E E K E X T P A G E . ]

unless th ey do straightway p ay the fine hcrc laid upon them .”

Aufidius and Sejus looked iroubled. T h e y had barely a hundi'ed sestertii between them ; but M arcus drew forth an amount equal to the three

“ hear tlie r e s t ! Because thou hast placed a false charge before this tribunal, and liast sought to profit b y thy lyin g tongue, I, the Prefect, do comm and that thou dost p ay over to the scribiis (clcrk o f the court) the sum o f three hundred sestertii, to


be d evo ted to the S e rv ic e o f th e p o o r ; and th a t thou dost w eai- t lic w o o d e n collar u n t il th y fine is

paid.”Very sobetly and ruefully, L yd u s paid over the

price óf his b ig stories (exactly the sum which he had received from the scribtis), and dcparted from the basifica o f tho boy prefect, if not a poorer, at least a sadder and a w iscr m an.'

'l'hc days o f M arcus’ ih agistracy were soon over, and when the great festival o f Jove was ended, and the magistrates h ad returned to the city, the lacl gave up the curule chair and the dress and dutics üf his office, and retircd to his m othcr’s house, bcai'ing with liira the thanks o f the magistrates, tho approval o f the Em peror, and the applause of iho people.

The villa o f the matron D om itia Calvilla, the mother of M arcus, stood embowered in delightful gardens on the Ccelian hill, tire m ost easterly o f the famous Sevcn H ills o f Rom e. In an age o f splen- dor, when gi-and palaces lined the streets and covcred the hill slopes o f the imperial city, when fortunes were spent upon baths and gardens, or wasted on a gala dress, or on a single m eal, this pleasant house was conducted upon a plan thát suitcd the home w ays o f the mother and the quiet tastes of the son- L et us enter the spacious vesti- bule. Here in the door-way, arostium , w e stop to note the “ S a lv e / ” (W elcom e I) w rought in mosaic on the marble floor, and then pass into the alrttim, or great living room o f the house, where the femalc slaves are spinning deftly, and everything tells of order and a busy life. N ow , let us pass on to the spacious court-yard, in the vei-y heart o f the hóuse. In the unroofed center a beautiful fountain shoots its jets of cooling spray from a marble cistern of clcarw.ater.

And here, b y the shining fountain, in the central court, stand two pcrsons— M arcu s and his mother. T h e lad has laid aside his toga, or outside maiitic, and his close-fitting, short-sleeved tunic, scarcely rcaching to his knees, shows a well-knit fíame an d ah cáltliy , sún-browned skin. H is mother, dressed in the tunic and long white siola, or outer robe, is o f m atronly presencc and pleasant face. And, as they talk together in low and earncst tones, they w atch with loving eyes the motions of the dark-eyed little A n n ia, a winsome Rom án maiden of thirteen, as, perched upon a cage o f pet pigeons, she gleefully teáses w ith a sw ayiu g peacock plume now the fluttering pigeons and now the wary-eyed Dido, h er favorite cat-

“ But there is such a thing as too much self- denial, m j' M arcus,” said the mother in answer to some remark o f the lad.

“ N ay, this is not self-denial, m y m other; it is simple justice,” replied the boy. “ A re not Annia

VOL. X I.— 22.

and 1 children o f the sam e father and m other?Is it just that I should receive all the benefit o f our family wealth, and that site should be dcpendent on m y bounty ? ”

“ Divide then th y father’s estáte, m y so n . Lot A nn ia and thyself share alikc, but give it not all to thy sister,” his mother suggcsted.

“ T o whom we love much w c should-be ready to give much. Is it not so, O m o th e r?” the boy asked.

“ So I believe, m y son,” his mother answered.“ A n d if I seek to act ju stly in this m atter, shall

I not follow thy counsels, m y m o th e r?” M arcus continued; “ for thou hast said, ‘ N o longer talk about the kind o f a m an a good man ought to be, but be such.’ ”. “ A h , M arcus,” the pleased mother exclaimed, “ thou wilt be a h appy m an, too, if thou canst go ever b y the right way, and think and act in the right w ay, as now. Th ou art a good youth.”

“ A n d w hat is goodncss, m other;” argucd the youn g philosophcr, “ but the desire to do justice and to practicc it, and in this to let desire end? L et me then, as I dcsire, give all m y father’s estáte to m y sister Annia. : M y grandfather’s is sufficicnt for m y needs. So shall A n n ia have her fair m arriage portion, and we, m y mother, shall all be satisfied.”

A n d now, his sister A nn ia, w eavying o f her play with the pigeons, dropped her peacock plume and ran m errily toward her brother.

“ O M arcus,” she cried, “ ’t will soon be time for the bath. Do come and toss tlie p ila with m e ; — that is,” she added, with m ock revereiice, “ if so grand a pereon as the prefect o f Rom e can play at b a ll ! ”

“ A n d w hy not, m y A n n ia ? ” asked her mother, prou d ly; “ even the world-ruling Julius lovcd his gam e o f b all.”

“ A h , but our M arcus is greater tlian the great Ctesat. Is fie not, m o th er?” A n n ia asked, teas-

ingly.“ A y e , that he is,” the mother answered, feel-

in g ly ; “ for, know that he has this d ay given up to thce, his, sister, one h alf o f his heritagc, andniore unwise and improvident youth ! ” sheadded, fondly.

“ So let it end, m other,” the b oy said, as the pretty A nn ia sprang to him with a cárcss. “ Com e, A nn ia, let us see who can toss the p ila Isest— a woman o f property, such as thou, or the prefect of three d a ys.” A n d as hand in hand the brother anU sister passed chcerily through the pillared pórtico, tlic mother looked after them w ith a h ap py heart and said, as did that othcr noble R om án matron o f whom history tclls u s : “ These are m y jew els ! ”

T h e days passed. W in ter grew to spring. T h e


ides o f M arch have come. A n d now it is one of the spring hoUdays o f R om e, the fourteenth of M arch in the year 1 3 8 — the E q u ir ia , or festival o f M ars. R om e is astir early, and every Street o f the great city is thronged with citizens and strangers, slavcs and soldiers, all h u riyin g toward the great pleasure-ground o f R o m e — the Circus M axim us. T h ro u gh every portal the crgwds press into the vast building, filling its circular seats, anxious for the spectacle. T h e m aglstrate o f the gam es for this day, it is said, is to be the young M arcus Annius, ho who was prefect o f the city during the last Latín G a in e s; and, m oreover, the festival is to closc with a grand venatio— a wild-

beast h u n t!T h ere is a stir o f expectation, a burst o f trumpets

from the Capítol, and all along the Sacred Street and through the crowded Foru m goes up the shout o f the watchers, “ H ere they come ! ” W ith the Ilutes playing m errily, with' sts-aying standards and sacred statues gloam ing in silver' and gold, with proud yo un g cadets on horse and on foot, with priests in their robes and gitards with crested helm s, with strange and m arvelous beasts led b y burly keepers, with a lo n g string o f skilled per- formers, restless horses, and gleam ing chariots, through the Foru m and down the Sacred Street winds the long procession, led b y the b oy m agistrate, M arcus o f R om e, the favorito o f the Em peror. A golden chaplet, w rought in crusted leaves, circles his h e a d ; a purple toga drapes his trim, young figure ; while the flutes and trumpets play their loudest before him , and the stout guards m arch at the heels o f his brigh t-bay pony. S6 into the great circus passes the lo n g procession, and as it files into the arena, two hundred thousand cxcited people — think, boys, o f a circus-tent that holds two hundred thousand people ! — rise to their feet and welcom e it with hearty hand-clap- ping. T h e trumpets sound the preludc, the young m agistrate (standing in his suggestns, or State box) flings the inappa, or white flag, into the course as the signal for the sta rt; and, as a rin ging shout goes up, four glittcring chariots, rich in their decorations o f gold and polished ivory, and each drawn b y four plunging horses, burst from their arcbed stalls and dash around the track. Green, blue, red, w bite— the colors o f the drivcrs— stream from their tunics. Around and around they go. Now one and now another is ahead. T h e people strain and cheer, and m any a w agcr is laid as to tile victor. Another shout ! T h e red chaviot, turning too sharply, grates against the meta, or short pillar that stands at the upper end o f the track, guarding the low central w a ll ; the horses rear and plunge, the driver struggles m anfully to control them , but all in v a in ; ovcr goes the chariot.

while the now maddened horses dash wildly on until checked b y mounted attendants and led off to their stalls. “ B lue ¡b l u e !” “ G re e n ! g r e e n !” rise the varyin g shouts, as the contending chariots still struggle for the lead. W h itc is far iDehind. N ow comes the seventh or final round. Blue le a d s ! N o , green is a h e a d ! N eck and neck down the home strétch th ey go magnificently, and then the cheer of victory is heard, as, with a fina! dash, the green rider strikes the white cord first and the race is won !

A n d there, where the race is fiereest and the excitement most intense, sits the staid young Mar- cus, unmoved, unexcited, busy with his ivory tablets and his own high th ough ts! F o r this wise young Stoic, true to his accepted phüosophy, had mastered even the love o f excitem ent— think of that, you circus-loving b o y s ! — H e has left it 011 record that, even as a youth, he had learned “ to

be neither o f the green ñor of the blue party at tbe gam es in tlic circus,” and while he looked upon such shows as dangerous and wasteful (for in those days they cost the statc im m ensc sums), he felí, still, that the people enjoyed them, and he said sim p ly : “ W c can not m ake men as we would have thoin; we m ust bear with them as tlicy are and m ake the best o f them we can .” A n d so it happened that at this splendid race at which, to piense the people, he prcsided as m agistrate, this boy of sixteen sat probably the only unm oved spectator in that whole vast circus.

N ow , in the intcrval between the races, come the athletic sports; foot-racing and wrestling, rope- dancing and high leaping, quoit-throwing and javelin m atches. One m an runs a race with a flcet Cappadocian h o rse; another expcit ridcr drives two barc-backed horses twice around the track, leapin g from b ack to b ack as the horses dash around. C an you see any very great diffci- ence between the circus performance o f A . D. 138 and one o f A . D . 1 884 ?

A m o n g the throng o f “ artists ” on that far-off M arch d ay thcre carne a brigh t little fellow of ten or eleven years, a ropc-dancer and a favorito with the crowd. L ig h t and agü e, he trips along the slender rope that strctches high above the arena. R igh t before the m agistrate’s box the boy poises. in m id air, and even the thoughtful young directo) o f the gam es looks up at the graceful motions of the boy. H a r k ! a w arning sliout goes up ; now, another; the poor little rope-dancer, anxious to find favor in the eyes o f the young noble, over-excris. himself, loses his iDalance on the dizzy rope and, toppling over, falls with a cruel thud to the ground and lies there before the great State box with a broken neck— dead. M arcus hcars the shout, he sees the falling boy. V au ltin g from his canopied


box he leaps down into Che arena, and so tender is be of others, Stoic though he be, that he has the poor rope-dancer’s head in his lap even before the attendants can reach him. B ut no life remains in that bruised littlo body and, as M arcus tenderly i'osigns the dead gyranast to the less sym pathetic slaves, he com m ands that ever after a bed shall be laid beneath the rope as a protection against such fatal falls. T h is becam e the rule ; and, when next

went on. Athletes and gym nasts did their best lo excel; ainidst wild excitement the chariots whirled around and around the course, and then the arena was cleared for the final a c t— the wild-beast hunt.

T h e w ary keepers raisc the stout gratings before the dens and cages, and the wild animals, freed from their prisons, rush into the great opon space, blink stupiclly in the glaring light, and then with roar and growl echo the shouts o f the spcctators.

" A 1 * A W O R D F K O W M A R C U 8 , T H I i T J I R l t K L A D S D R E W D A C K T H E I R A R M S A S I F T O O K A N D IS H W J iA I 'O N S , A N U S H O U T F .OA C R Y O F A T T A C K .”

yon SCO the safcty-nct spread beneath the rope- 'valkers, the trapcze pcrform crs, and those who perfonn similar “ terrific” fcats, rem em ber that iis use dates back to the humane order o f M arcus, the boy m agistrate, seventcen centuries ago.

But, in those oíd days, the pcople had to be be am used— whatever happened. H um an life was held too cheaply for a whole festival to be stopped because a little boy was killed, and so the sports

H crc are gi-eat lions from N um idia, and tigers from far A rab ia, wolves from the A pcn nincs and bears from L ib ya , not cagcd and half-tam ed as we see them now, but wild and fierce, loose in the arqna. N ow the huntcrs swarm in, on horee and on foot,— trained and supplc Thracian gladiators, skilled Gsetulian huntcrs, with archcrs, and spear- inen, and net-tlivowers. AH around the great arena rages the cruel fight. H ere, a lion stands.


at b a y ; there, a tigress crouches for the sp rin g ; a snarling w olf suaps at a keen-eyed T h racian , or a bear with ungainly ti'Ot sham blcs aw ay from the spear o f his persecutor. E a g e r and watchful the hunters shoot and thrust, while the vast audience, more eager, more relentless, m ore brutal than beast or hunter, applaud, and shout and cheer. B ut the youn g m agistrate, who had, through all his life, a m arked distaste for such cruel sport, turns from the arena and, again taking out his tablets, busies him self with his writing, unmoved b y the contest and carnage before him.

T h e last hunted beast lies dead in the a ren a ; the last valorous hunter has been honored with his p a lm a , or reward, as victor ; the slaves stand ready with hook and ropo to d rag off the slaiightcred anim als; the great crowd pours out o f the vast three-storiecl bu ildings; the shops in the pórticos are noisy with the talk o f buyers and scllers; • the b oy inagislrate and his escort pass th íough the waiting th ro n g ; and the Festival G am es are over. But, ere young M arcus reaches the Foru m on his return, a shout goes up from the people, and, just before the beautiful temple o f the T w in Gods, where the throng is denscst, flowers and wreaths are thrown Ijeneath his pony’s feet, and a storm o f voices raises the sh o u t:

" A v e I m p c r a t o r A v e C c e s a r ! "“ W h a t m eans that shout, A u fid iu s?” he asked

his friend, who rodé in the escort. B u t the only reply Aufidius made was to join his voice with that of the enthusiastic throng in a second sh o u t: " A v e h n p e ra to r! A u gu ste, D i i ie se rv e n t! " (H ail, O Em peror ! T h e gods save your m ajesty !)

Then M arcus knew that the decree o f tlie dying Em peror H adrian had been confirracd, and that he, M arcus A nnius V eru s, the descendant o f the ancient kings, the boy philosophcr, the unassuming soh ü f a noble mother, had been adopted as the son and successor o f his uncle Antoninus, who was to reign after H adrian’s death, and that where he weiU, tliro u g h th e Foru m and up the Sacred Street, there rodé the heir to the greatest throne in tlie world, the fu ture Em peror o f Rom e.

A Stoic still, unmoved, save for the slight flush that tinged his check as he acknowledgcd the greeting o f the h appy pcople, he passed on lo his mother’s house, and, in that dear hom e, am id the

green gardens o f the Ccelian hill, he heard her lips speak her congratiilations, and bent his head to receive lier kiss o f blessing.

“ I lose a son, but gain an E m p ero r,” she said.“ N o, m y m other,” the boy replied, proudly,

“ me thüu shalt never lose. F o r, though I lea\c this dear home for the palace o f the Csesars, m y

heart is still here with that noble mother from whom I learned Icssons o f piety and benevolente and simplicity o f life, and abstinence from evil dceds and evil thoughts.”

Before five months had passed the gi'eat Emperur Hadrian died at Baite, in his hill-shaded palace by the sea, and the wise, country-loving uncle of M arcus succeeded to the throne as tbe Emperor Antoninus Pius. D uring all his gloiious reign of twenty-threc years, he had no more devoted acl- mirer, subject, helper, and friend, than his adopted son and acknowledged successor, Marcus, ivlio, in the year A . D . i6 i , ascended the throne of llit Carsars as the great Em peror M arcus Aurelias Antoninus.

T h e life o f this Rom án M arcus was one of uii- sought honors and titles. A t six, a knight of the Equestrian o rder; at eight, one o f the priests uf M ars; at twelve, a rigid S to ic; at sixteen, a magis- trate o f the c it y ; at seventeen, a quícstor, or reí - enue officer; at nineteen, a cónsul a n d C íe sa r; al forty, an Em peror.

A noble b o y ; a noble m an ; preserving, as has been said o f him, “ in a time o f universal corrup- tion, a nature sweet, puré, self-denying, and un- atfected,” — he teaches us all, boys and men alikc, a lesson o f real manliness. Here are two of his precepts, which we none o f us are too young to remember, none o f us too oíd to forget: “ TIk best w ay o f avenging thyself is not to become like the w rong-doer” ; “ L e t me offer to the gods the best that is in m e ; so shall 1 b e a strong man, ripened b y age, a friend o f the public good, a Rom án, an Em peror, a soldier at his post awaiting the signal o f the trumpet, a man ready to quit lifc without a fear.” A n d so we have opened this series o f “ Historie B oys ” with an account of a boy who w as onc o f the foremost figures o f his time, and who him self was m anly, modest, princel)', brave, and tru c— the boy m agistrate, Marcus of Rom e, the greatest and best o f the Antonines.


s'OlslVEI? <JOHJíSOJ\P»( 5 U H E , 1 8 8 3 . )

:.;i:g out, o bells, a merry peai,

J.T this auspicious m ora;

k ‘..tile maid, with golden locks

And soul of heaven born,Is nine years oíd,

Is nine years oíd.

r.'om out your swelling throats, O bird.s,

?our forth your sweetest lays ;

.1 h;Ü6 girl, with eyes of blue And winsome, Joyous ways,

Is nine years oíd,

Is nine years oíd.

C merry brook within the glade,

Dance lightly oa your w ay ;

A precious child, this gladsome June,

And on this very day,Is nine years oíd,

Is nine yoars oíd.

Fresh summer ñowers, your potáis opo,

With fragrance ñll tho air;A human blossom on its stem

Unfolding, freo and fair,Is nine years oíd,Is nine years oíd.

Young Balder, frisky household pet,

Come, wag your tail in glee;

Your little mistress, on this day,

As even you may see,Is nine years oíd,

Is nine years oíd.

Gome, úneles, aunts, and eousins, too,

And join in festive mirth;Dear grandmamma, be young to-day;

Our maid of priceloss worth Is nino years oíd,

Is nine years oíd.


D a yo f

M on th .

i í o yo f

W M k .

M non 's

A g e ,M oo n ’s

P la c e .

S u n on N o o n M a tk .

1 F r i . 4 P i s c c sI I . M . 12.14

2 S a t . 5 A r ie s 12.148 & 0 12.14i M o n . 7 T a u r u s 1 2 . U

5 T u e s . 8 1 2 . U

G W c d . 9 “ 12.147 T h u t . 10 G e m in i 12.14S F r i . 11 12.149 S a l. 12 C á n c e r 12.14

10 F U L L L e o 12.1411 M o n . 14 S e x t a s t 12.141 2 T u c s . 15 L e o 12.1413 W e t l . 10 V i r g o 12.1414 T lu i r . 17 12.1415 F r i . 18 12.1410 S a t. 10 12.1417 20 L ib r a 12.141 $ M o n . 21 S c o r p io 12.1419 T u e s . 22 Ü p h iu c h 12.1420 W e d . 23 “ 12.1421 T h u r . 24 S a g i t i . 12.1422 F r i , 25 " 12.1423 S ac . 20 C a p r i . 12.1424 27 12.1325 M o n . 28 12.1320 T u e s . N l i W 12.1327 W c d . 1 12,1328 T h u r . 2 12.132 9 F r i . 3 A r i e s 12.18

4 th S u n d a y a f t e r E p i p h 'y .

n e a r S a iu rn .

j ) c lo s c t o A ld e b a r a n .

P n e a r J ú p i t e r ,

i ) n e a r M a r s .

S e p t u a g é s im a S u n d a y .

n e a r R e g u lu s .

,S t . V a ic n t in e 's d a y .

p n e a r S p i c a .

S e x a g é s im a S u n d a y .

p n e a r A n la r e s .

W a s h in g t o u ’ s b ’ d a y , 1732 .

Q u in q u a g c s ím a S u n d a y .

|Papc<Ü€e T u e s d a y .

A s h A V e d n c s d a y .

P p a s s c s o v e r V e n u s , n A .M .,d o .s e t o V e n u s

a f i e r su n s e l .

‘ ‘ S e e o u r s n o w f o n ! ”“ D i d y o u m a k c í t ? ”

" T h a t w e d i d . ”" W e ’ ! ! s t o r m a n d l a k e Íl ”

“ B e c y o u w o n t ! ”" W e l l , w e ' I I t r y , ”

T h e n iI jc s n o w - b a l l s s w í f t i y f l y .

E v e n i n g S k i e s f o r Y o u n g A s t r o n o m k r s .( S e e I n i r o d u c i i o o , p a g e 255 S t . N i c h o l a s f o r J a n u a r y . ) *

F e b r u a r y i s t h , 8 . 3 0 i ’ . m .V e n u s h a s J u s t s e t ; s h e m a y b e s e e n in t h e w e s t a f t e r su n se i,

b u t is n o t v e r y b r i g l u y e t . M a h s , a l i l t l c l o t h e e a s t o í o u r p o in t o f o b s e r v a i io n , ís s i i l l a t h b b r ig h te s t . H e h a s m o v e d b a ík v j f t f d , t o t h e w e s i , a m o n g t h e s ta r s , a n d i s n o w n e a r e r 10

jU P iT E R , w h o s h in c s a s b r i g n l l y a s d u r ín e ih e la s i m o n th . U P IT E R is n o w s t i l l n e a r e r l o t h e t w in s ta r s C a s t o r a n d P o l lu x , a n d e x a c t l y in a l in e w i t h th e m . S a t u r n h a s n o t s e n s ib lv

a l t e r c d h is p o s iú o n a m o n g ih e s ta r s , th o u g h h e is n o w , w i ih A ld e l )a r a n a n d t h e P le i a d e s , f a r t h c r t o t h e w e s t th a n w c saw h im in J a n u a r y ; f o r ih e w h o l e s t a r r y s p h e r e , b y t h e m o v e m e n l o f l h e S u n a m o n g th e s ta r s , h a s a p p e a r e d to m o v e t w o h ou rs w e s tw a r d . O r io n , w h ic h , la s t m o n th , w a s a b o u t o n e h o u r 10 t ) » e e a s c o f o u r s o u th m a r k , í s n o w a b o u t o n e h o u r 10 ih e w e s i o f i t . S ir iu s i » n o w in t h e b e s t p o s i t i o n 10 b e o b s e r v e d d u r in g th e y e a r . f o r í t b a lm o s t d u e s o u th . N o i i c c t h e b r ig h r s ta r .» u n d e r i t ; t h e y a r e a b o in t h e c o n s i d l a l i o i i o f C a n ís M a jo r . P r o i ^ o n , b e t w e e n J ú p i t e r a n d S ir iu s , i s s t i l l 10 t h e e a s t , bu t in M a r c h i t t o o w i l í a l t h is h o u r h a v e p as -sed to t h e w e s i , T h e b r i g h t s t a r in t h e s o u th - e a s t ís R e g u lu s . t h e p r in c ip a l s t a r n» t h e c o n s t c l la i i o n L e o , T h e L i a n , o n e o f t h e c o n s ie l la t io n s o í

i h e Z o d iu c ,N o t i c e t h e M ü k y W ay. I t f o r m s a n a r c h o f fa in t , w h i ic

l i g h t f r o m t h e s o u th * e a s t , l o u c h in g B c i c l g u e s e , a n d p a s s in g D v c r h c a d c ió s e t o C a p e l l a t o t l i e n o r th - w c s t . I t s l i g h t c om es f r o m m i l l io n s o f s ta rs , t o o s m a l l a n d f a r o f f t o b e s e p a ra tc ly

d b t in g i i i s h e d . I . e l u s n o t i c e A ld e b a r a n f i v e S ta rs ín t h e f o r m o f a > , c a l le d t h e H y a d e s ,

W c c a n n o w t r a c e a n o ih e r s i c p Ín th e c o u r s e o f th e S u n d u r in g t h e y e a r , f o r ih e b r i g h t s la r , R e g u lu s , m a r k s th e p la c e w h e r e h e w iU s h in e o n t h e 2 o th o fA u g u . » c .

T H E E N G L I S H S P A R R O W A N D T H E R O B I N .

“ W i i F . R F . d i d y o u c o m e f r o m s o e a r l y ? ” s a i d t h e E n g l l s l i S p a r r o w t o a R o b i n R e d - b r e a s t , o n e c o i d

F e b r u a r y n i o r n i n g -

“ F r o m a l o v e l y o r a n g e - g r o v e i n I h e S o u t h , ” r e p l i e d t h e R o b i n .

“ W e l l ! y o u h a d b e t t e r h a v e s t a y e d t h e r e , ” s a i d t h e S p a r r o w ; “ w c s h a l l h a v e m o r e s n o w , a n d w h a l

w i l l t h e R o b i n d o t h e n , p o o r t h i n g ? ”

“ L o o k l i e r e ! ” s a i d t h e R o b i n , “ I ’ m a n a t u r a l b o r n A m e r i c a n , a n d w o n t s t a n d a n y s u c h a i r s f r o m

f o r e i g n e r s ’

a w a y a n d b i d é 1

i n d e p e n d e n c e , ‘

t o t a k e g o o d a d v i c e , n o m a l t e r i f y o u d o n ’ t l i k e t h e w a y i

• T h e ñ a m e , o l p la n c t s a r e p r in t e d in c a p i t a l s : t h o s e o f c o n a te l la t io n s in I t a i i c .


I ' m h e r e , M o t h e r N a t u r e ! ’ ’ e x c l a i m c d F e b n i a r y , w i i h a w a r m b u r s t o f e n l h u s ia s m . B u t h i s

m a n n e r c h i l l e d a s h e a d d e d , w i t h a s i g b ; " I d o n 't t h in k I ’ m o f m u c h u s e t h o u g h , a n d I ’ m s o n y _

1 ' v e g o t to s t a y i w e n t y .n i n e d a y s w i t h y o u t h i s y e a r . I t d o e s n o t s e e m t o b e s e t t le d w h c l h t r m y b u s i n e s s is

t o t h a w o u t t h e s i r c a m s o r to f r e e s e t h e m u p , s o I d o a l i t t l e o f b o t h , I f i t w e r e n o t f o r S t . V a l e m m e s D a y , I t h m k

I s h o u ld t r y t o d r o p o u t o f t h e c a l e n d a r e n t i c c ly . B u t I c a r e to o m u c h f o r ih e p l e a s ü r e o f ih e y o u n g f o l k s to

th e m o f t h e i r d e a r c i d S a i n t . 1 w a s y o u n g o n c e m y s e l f , y o u k n o w " - a n d l - 'c b r u a r y p e e r c d d o w n r n io a l . i t i c p o o l h e h a d

u i s t f r o z e n o v e r , to s c c i f h e w a s g r o w í n g g r a y . , xa -n .‘ D o n ’ t ta lle o f g r o w i n g o í d , ” c r i e d N a t u r e ; “ w b y , y o u o n l y h a v e a b i t t h d a y o n c e m f o u r y e a r s . Y o u c a n t g r o w o íd . B u t

n o w 10 w o r k , a r rd p l e a s e t h a w a l l y o u c a n , F e b r u a r y , d e a r , fo r I 'm a l i t t l e b e h i n d h a n d ; t h e h o l .d a y s a r e a l l o v e r ; w e m u s t g o to

w o ik , a n d y o u m u s t d o y o u r s h a r e , C a l i t h e b i r d s f r o m t h e S o u t h , a n d w a k e u p t h e c r o c u s a n d d a íT o d ils , o r t h e y w i l l b e la t e .

T H E P R E S I D E N T S O F T H E U N I T E D S T A T E S .

< » € o rg c W a s h i n g t o n . . . .J o h n A d a m s ...........................T h o m a « J e f F e r s o n ..............Ja m e « M a d Í $ o n .................J a m e s M o n r o e ...................J o h n Q u in c y A d a m s , . .A n d r e w T a c l< $ o n .................M a rt in V a n B u r é n ...........W lljin m K e n r y H a r r i s o n .J o h n T y l e r ...........................J a m e s K . P o l k ...................Z a c h a r y T a y l o i ...................^ f i l la r d F l U m o r e ................F r a n k lín P í e r c e ...................J a m e s B n c h a n a n ..............A b r a h a m L i n c o l n ..............A n d r e w J o h n s o n .............U ly s s e s S . G r a n t ................R u i h c r fo r d R . H a y e ? . , .J a m e s A . G a r h e l d ...........C h e s t e r A . A r t h u r ..............

B O R N .

W e sim o re ln n d C o ., V a , , F e b . aa , 17 3 2B r a in tre e , M a s s . ................................... O c t . 19 , 1 7 3 5 ’S h a d w e ll, A lb e m a r lc C o . , V a . . . A p r . s , 17 4 3K i n g G e o t g e , V a ...........................M a r c h x6, 1 7 5 1

W e stm o r c la n d C o . , V a , . A p r , 2 8 , 17 5 8B ra in tre c , M a s s ............................. J u l y xx, X7C7W a K h a w S e ttlem e n t, S , C , . . M a r c h 1 5 , 17 6 7K in d e rh o o k , N . Y .....................D e c e m b e r 5* *78*B c r k e le y , V n F c b n ja r y , 9 , *773

C h a r le s C it y C o ., V a . M a r c h 2 9 , 17 9 0 M e c W en b e rg C e . , N , C . . N o v . 2 , 17 9 5O r a n g e C o ., V a N o v . 24? *784

S u m m e rH iU , C a y u g a C o . , N . Y , J a n . 7, x8ooH ilIsb o ro u R h , N . H .......................N o v . 3 3 , 18 0 4S t o n y R a tte r , F ra n k U n C o . ,P a . A p r , 2 2 ; 17 9»

H a rd in C o . , K e n la c k y .F e b , xa , 18 0 0R a le ig h , N . C D e c - 29,P o in t P le a s a n t , O b l o A p r il 2 7 , X822D e la w a r e . O h io O c t 4 , *822O ra n g e , O h io N o v . X9, X831F a ir f ic id , F ra n k U n C o . , V e rm o n t, O c t. 5 , 18 3 0

rRBSIDKNT.F r o t a T o 1789-1797 1 7 9 7 - X 8 0 1 1 8 0 1 - 1 8 0 9 1869-X817 1 8 1 7 - 1 8 3 5 t825>x829 X8 2 9 - 1 8 3 7 1 8 3 7 - 1 8 4 1 x84i-x84r 1 8 4 1 - 1 8 4 5

x845-'84918 4 9 - 1 8 5 01 8 5 0 - 1 8 5 3

1 8 5 3 - 1 8 5 71 8 5 7 - 1 8 6 11 8 6 1 - 1 8 6 $1 8 6 5 - 1 8 6 91 8 6 9 - 1 8 7 71 8 7 7 - 1 8 8 11 8 8 1 - 1 8 8 1

M e . V e m o n , V a . , D e c , 2 4 , 1 7 9 9 .Q u i n c y , M a s s . , J u l y 4 . 2 8 3 6 ,M o n t ic c l lo , V a . , J u l y 4 , 18 2 6 .M o n t p c i ie r , V a , J u n e 2 8 , 18 3 6 .N e w V o r k , J u l y 4 , 1 8 3 1 .W a s h i n g t o n , P c h , 7 3 , 18 4 8 ,H e r m i l a g c , n e a r N a s h v i l l e , T e n n , , J u n e 8 , K i n d e r h o o k , J u l y 2 4 , 1 8 6 2 , [ j 845W a s h in g t o n . A p r i l 4 , 1 8 4 1 - R ic h m o n d , V a . , J a n 1 7 , 2 8 6 2 .N a s h v i l l e , T e n n . , J u n e 1 5 , 1 8 4 9 . W a s h i n g t o n , J u l y 9 , 18 5 0 .B u (Talo. N . Y . , M a r c h 8 , 1 8 7 4 .C o n c o r d , N , H , , O c t . 8 , 18 6 9 , W h e a i l a n d s , L a n c a s t e r C o . , F a . , J u n e i , W a s h in g t o n , A p r í l 1 4 - 18 6 5 . [ i 8 6 9 .N e a r E M z a b e lh lo w n , T e n n . , J u l y 3 1 , 1 8 7 5 .

B ib e r ó n , N . J . , S e p t . 1 9 , 1 8 8 1 .


A L I T T L E G I R L ’ S L E T T E R A B O U T H E R D O L L S .

L o w e l l , i ;

D e a r S t . N i c h o l a s : Perhaps you would like to see a picture o f my children. M y mamma says I m ay send you one that w as made 'the sam e day that my picture w as taken for Papa’s álbum. S h e says you will know just how to copy it so that all the little boys and g irls can see it. So I send

it with this letter.Shall I tell you their ñam es? T h e b ig g e st child is the baby,— but you

know that dolí children don’t oTOw as otherOchildren do. H er ñame is Reba.She has blue eyes, and one little curl, and is as cunning as can be. T he oldest child is M ary.She is ten years okl She sits by the baby, and helps me a great deal in taking care of her. T h e little girl with the Ion? hair and lace cap isM abel, and her ‘brother, in the Scotch dress, is ColÍe.L u S i n a n d Y u n gWing are twins. T h e y carne from Japan , and are rea lly adopted children ; but I would n’t have them know this for anything. L u S in is the little girl, Y u n g W in g is the boy. H e is the one sitting in front o f M abel.

'fh ey are all v ery nice ch ild ren ; but, o f course, with ¿uch a b ig family, Mamma says I must expect a good lot o f care and trouble. The older children are very fond o f S r . N i c h o l a s . I read it to them, and 1 d o nt wonder at their lik in g it. Y o u r devoted friend, K it t ie R .


I . J A C K - I N - T H E - P U L P I T .

GOOD-MORROW, gentle V alentines !A nd now, as F eb ru ary is a short m on th , w e ’ll

p roceed ax once to business.Som e am ong you have w ished to know w hat

k in d o f “ Silver Bells an d Cockle S h e lls” those could have been th a t grew in th e garden of “ Mistress M ary, quite C o n tra ry .” So a good friend who loves the oíd N ursery R hym es, thou gh she is a grow n lady an d very lea rn ed , will now te ll you som eth ing about them .

" S I L V E R B E L L S A N D C O C K L E S H E L L S . ”

“ M i s i r e s s M a r y , q u i w c o n t r a r y ;H o w d o e s y o u r g a r d e n g r o w ?

S U v e r b e l l s a n d c o c k l e «h e ll.s A U in a r o w . "

M o s t o f u s c h i ld r e n , K t i l e a n d b i g , b a v e r e c i t e d th is v e r s e ; b u t c o m p a r a t i v e l y f c w k n o w th e r e i s a m e a n in g a tC a c h cd l o t h e la s t t w o l in e s . A t t h e ú m e w h e n th is r h y m e w a s m a d e ih c r c w c r e r e a l l y “ s i l v e r b e l ls a n d c o c k l e s h e l l s , ” a n d in r o w s t o o , t h o u g h n o t g r o w *

i n g in g a r d e n s .í n iH o s e d a y s — s o m e h u n d r e d s o / y c a t s a g o — th e r e w e r e n o

c o a c h e s . I . a d ie s t r a v e l e d a n d v is i t a d o n h o r s e b a c k ; s o m e t im e s r id * i n g o n a s a d d ie o r p i l l i o n b e h in d a g e n i l e m a n o r in a n * s e r v a n t , a n d d o m e iin te s m a n a g in g r h d r o u 'n h o r s e s , w i t h th e g e n t l e m a n r íd in g a l o n g s id e , o r t h e g r o o m f o l l o w i n g b e h in d . T h e c q u ip m e n t s o r tra p * p in g s o f th e s e h o r s e s w e r c v e r y r i c h a n d c o s l l y . G e n e r a l l y , ih e c lo t h w h ic h h a l f c o v e r e d th e m , a n d o n w h ic h i h c l a d y r o d c , w o u ld b e o f f in e s t w o o l e n o r s U k en m a lc r ia l , h a n d s o m c ly c m b r o id c r c d . O n g r a n d o c c a s lo n s , o r w h e n ih c l a d y w a s v e r y w e a l t h y o r n o b le , c r im *

■son v e l v e c o r c lo t h - o f - g o id w o u ld b e u s e d , c d g c d w i t h g o l d f r ín g e s a n d s p r in k lc d w i i h s m a l l p c a r ls , c n l lc d s c c d -p e a r ls . T h e s a d d le s a n d b r id lc s w o r e c v c n m o r e r ic h J y d e c o r a t c d , b e i n g o f t e n s c i w l l h j e w c l s o r g o l d a n d s i l v e r o rn a m e n ta , c a l l e d “ g o ld b m í ih 's w o r k . " O n c fa s h io n , v e r y p o p u la r in th e « m e s o f H c n r v t h e S e v e n t h a n d H e n r y t h e É i g h l n o f E n g h u id , w a s l o h a v e ih c b r ld l c s lu d d e d w it h a r o w o í « n y s i l v e r c o c k l e s h e l ls , a n d it s c d g c h u n g w i t h l l t l l c sM- v c r b e l ls , w h ic h , w i t h t h e m o t io n o f th e h o r s e , k e p t u p a m ’c r r y j i n g l e . B e l l s w c r e a ls o fa s t e n e d to t h e p o i n t o f ih c s t ir r u p , w h ic h w a s f o r m e d l i k e t h e t o e o f a s h o e . A n d ih is p a t i l y c .s p la in s a n o th e r « I d n u r s e r y r h y m e , m a d e , n o d o u b t , a b o u t t h e s a m e t im e :

“ R i d e a g r e y h o r s e t o B a n b u r y C ro s s ,T o s e e a f in e l a d y g o o n u w h í t c h o r s e ;K l n g « o n h e r f in g e r s a n d ie / ls o h h e r toes y S o s h e s h a l l h a v e m u s ic w h e r e v e r s h e g o e s . "

T h e r e is a v e i y o íd b o o k p r c s e r v e d a t S k ip t o n C a s t le in E n g la n d , ■the a c c o u n t b o o 1< o f H e n r y C U ffo rd , E a r l o f C u m b e r la n d . í n th ís

book, am ong a great m any other cntries, Uttic and great, is one o f the purchase b y the Earl o f “ a saddJe and bridle for m y lady, embossod o f silver cock le shells, and hung with silver bells” ; and on the same page is another en try o f “ a hawk fo r m y lady, w ith .silkcn jesses and a silver bell fo r tnc sam e." I t was the custom fo r noble ladies co ride w ith a hawk pcrchcd upon their w rists; and this Countess of Cumberland, who ]s said to nave been beautiful and stately, must have looked ve ry grand when thus equipped.

A C A R W I T H A S A I L .

H c r c is a letter th at the d eaco n h as asked me to sh o w y o u :

S t . Jam es, Mikn, D e a r D e a c o n O r e e n : T h e railroad velocipcdc which I find dc

scribed i n a back number o f S t . N ic h o la s (Scptember. 1883) has been used on our road for o vcr two years, m ostiy b * the telegranh i^ a ir e is . T h e y carry tw o person s fac ing one another, and a thud often hangs on. But a still more wonderful r igh t is a commuii hand'Car with a la rge sail hoisied, and handled much the same as n sail on a saiUboat; this sail-car was form erly much used by bridge carpenters, saving them a g rea t deal o f hard work,

M y little folks are delighted w ith the St . N ic h o l a s , and gencr. aJly take che laiest number lo bed to look ovcr tÜl they go to sleep.

J . R . M cLrak .A D E E P C O N U N D R U M .

P e r t h A mdov. — , D e a r St . N ic h o l a s : I nm tw d v c years o íd . One day I wis

down on the sea*shorc d ig g in g Ín the sand w ith some fnend' uf mine. W e were try in g to see who could d ig the deepest hole Bv and by w e all g o t tired, and some one asked ; “ W liy did you inlt keep on ? ”

I thought for quite a lon g w hile, because it made m e think o f ríd- dles, and then I made 11 p this one ;

w h y can not a you n g doctor d ig lo the other side o f the world? Answer, Because he has not paticnts enough.

Y o u r f n c o d , A , H , (

N O T S O B A D A F T E R A L L .

M a n y person a, in sp e a k in g o f the H erm it Crab, con sider th em selves jiistified in ca llin g him very selfish a n d u n prin cipled . T h e y b elieve that his habit is to w a tch in h is n ative w aters till some desirable a n d iitterly in n o cen t shell-fish comes

'a lo n g , w h en M r. H erm it C . w ith g re e d y cnielty pou n ces u pon h im , eats h im , litcrally , “ out of house a n d h o m e ,” a n d then tak cs u p h is abodc ín h is victim ’s em p tied shell.

N o w , is this a fa ir statem en t o f fa c ts ? W hat s a y y o u , r a y y o u n g a q u ariu m -k e e p e rs? Is tlie H erm it C ra b as b ad a s this, or n o t?

W e w ill o p en the discussion w ith this bit of w ritin g sen t b y J e n n y H . M ., a y o u n g member o f the S t . N i c h o l a s Á g a ssiz A s s o d a tio n :

T l i e H erm it Crítb is ve ry odd in í l s formailon and habits. Tbe criistaccous covering ís on ly over the upper part o f the body. The low er part o f the b od y is soft and worm-ljke, and m ig lu be seized upon b y any hungry sea-“ iramps ’ ’ pasaíng by. Beíng thu« unpro- t¿ :ied Sy tiAture, che liitlc hermit crah finds a w ay lo h elp himself. H e search es for some em pty shell and backs Into íf*; thcre he IÍx‘«s until. he grow s too large fo r i i, when he moves out and siansolT m search o f another home,

S W I M M I N G H O M E .B r o o k ly n , D cc. i 3 th, 1883.

D e a r J a ck - in * th e -P u li> it : I read in a N e w Y ork paper, Jast evening, that som ebody namcd W illiam Scxton tccenlly lemtwcd from Short Heach 10 Baby Ion, L on g Isiand, taking svích liun nfiy lam e ducka, tea o f which wcrc oíd birda. T h e ducks, it s«m .s, vcts carried i 11 a el ose box. T h e y remaincd about their now auarter.% Ío t one <kty, and ihcn disappcarcd. T l ic foliovring murning tnese diick» were fÓund at their oíd home on the beach, waiting to be f<^. As their w ings wcrc clippcd, ih cy must have swum tho entire disiancc, nearly nine miles, In a heavy sea and on a dark night-

TJjís seems to m e a wonderful incident, i f true, Perhaps $omc o( your w ise and observan! little “ c h ick s " may be ablc lo repon .authentic duck stories o f a sindlar kind. I have often watched « ild ducks sw lmming in tile distance, and have noticed that thcv «lopped v r r y often a s i f to rest, for th c vd id not appear to be catchingnny* th ing in the w ay o f food. W illiam Scxton’s lame ducks must have bccii brave swlmmcrs 10 carry their ligh t forms for such adísrarce over the heavy sea to the tune o f “ H om e Sw eet Home.

Y ou r faitKful, bu l not very you n g listener, M a b e i, I , *• ,


M O R E A B O U T T H E E R M IN E -

IT m ay be rather late in the d ay to show you this kttcr, m y friends, as it carne to me in Octo- bcr last. A n d yet, as 1 have since then received seieral notes asking questions about ermine fur, I shall let M aster G eorge H .’s explanation serve as ray r e p ly :

IIKAB jA C K -iN -T H E -P u i-r iT : I th in k C h a r le s l i . ' s cu in p o sitio n nn the E rra in c in ll ie O c to h e r S t . N ic h o l a s , p a g e 9 54 , i s h y fa t th em o ítco rrect o f t h e th ree th a t y o u g a v e .

l ' l i e E rm in e U a sp e c ie s o f th e w e a s e l , h u t c o n s id e ra b ly la rg o r ihan th e co m m o n w eaao !. T h e E r m in e is a Jm o st ten in c h e s in lencih excluM ve o f th e ta il, w h ic h i s f u l ly fo u r a n d a h a l l in ch es Ion" T h is p ro v e s th a t M a h e l C . R . ’ s sta te m e n t, th a t the E nñine g ro w s to b e v e r y la rg e , i s in co rrect.

In Ihe su m m e r ih e E tm in o 's c o a t i s a p.ale red d ish- brown color, th e u n d e r p a r t s y e llo w ish iv h ite , a n d th o tip o fth e tail b la c k . . , . l i - ,

In Ihe w in te r th e lit t le a m m a l tu r n s t o a y e l lo iv i s h iv h ite or nlmosi p u ré w h ite , b u t th o tip o f th o ta i l rem aro s b la c k

" ' in ^ n iak in g u p erm in e fii r , th e tn iis a re in so rie tl in a rcaular m an n er, t l iu s g iv in g th e a p p e a ra n c e o f a s p c t ie d

l i i s often u se d fo r th e ro b e s o f k in g s a n d n o b le s ; h en ee M al'cl C . R . ’ s m istak e . S h e d id 110 1 k n o iv Ih a l m a n y slciiis n iusi be se w e d to g e th e r 10 m a k e o n e la r g e robe.

Ecm iiie is n o t so v a lu a b le n o w fo r la d ie s ’ m u ffs a n d iip - p e t' .is it w a s fo rm c rly , fo r it i s n o lo n g e r fa sh io n a b lc .

One o í y o u r m a n y y o u n g fr ie n d s , G b o h c e H .W a s h in g t o n , D . C - , O c t o b e r , 1 8 8 3 .

A B E A U T I F U L W I N D O W D E C O R A T I O N .

A H O U T a year ago, as I am informed,-tlic editor of S t . N i c h o l a s showed you a p ic t u r e of a beautifully decorated. window in the house o f M r. Vanderbilt, a wealthy C itizen of N ew Y o rk . It was a staincd- glass window,— that is, one made o f bits o f r i c h l y colored glass, skillfully secured together with m etal so as to form a sort of iransparent picture, after a design b y a famous French artist nam ed Oudinot.

Well, we ’ve a window-decorator in this country, a namesake of m ine, who, I ’m 'villing to say, without any offense to Mr. Vanderbilt, beats this French designer ut- terly. Not only does he plan the picture, but’ he does every bit o f the work himself His ñame is Ja c k — Ja ck Frost. A t present 1 have time only to show you one of liis wonderfully beautiful designs, copicd last winter ríg/it /ro m a w indow .

If any o f you dear young folk can tell me sometliing about this clcver Ja ck , and hotv he makes his window decorations, 1 shall be right glad to hear from you.

T H E C O M P A S S P L A N T -

C l N C l N K A T t , O h i o .

D e a r J a c k - i n - t h b - P u l p i t : D i d v o u e v e r w ü y o u r U u le c h ic k s a n y i h i n g a b o u t th e C o m u a s s P l a n t t h a t g r o w s in s o m e o f ih e 5 i a u « w e s t o f ih e M ís s ít i^ ip p i r i v e r ? I f y o u d id n o t , ih c n w í l l y o n l e i :n<; g i v e th e m a d e s c r ip t io n o í i t ? I t i s fu u n d m o s t iy o n t h e p r a lr ie s a n d p in in s o f T e x a s , ü i a h , a n d S o u th e r n M in n e s o t a . I t b e lo n g s t o th e f a m i l y o f t h e C o m jx /e ita , a n d p ^ e a i l y r e s e m b lc s t h e s n n f lo w e r ín a p p e a r . in c e . U e m it s a s t r o n g r e s in o u s o d o r , w h ic h h.-is c a u s e d i t

t o b e c a l lc d " tu r p é n t ín e p la n t ” a ls o . T h e n a m c o f “ C o m p a s a , ” o r " P í l o t - p l a n i ” i t h a s r e c e iv e d f r o m a p e c iU ia r i t y ¡n i h e g r o w l h o f n s l e a v e s w h ic h aijD a r r a i i g e d a l o n g ih c s ta lk a l i e r n a t c ly , a n d p o i r t e x a c t l y n o r ih a n d s o u th . I - o n g a g o ih c In d ia n s h a d m a d e u s e o f t h is p la n t a s a g u Íd e * p o s t o n ih e d r e a r y p la in s , a n d h a d im p a r t e d Ih e k n o w le d g e o f i i s n s e fn ln e s s l o t h e t r a p i ie r s . T h e fir& i a c c o u n ts o f t h e w o n d e r fu l p la n t w e r e r e c e i v e d w i t h in c r e d u l í t y , b u t s c ie n t i f ic

A W IN D O W D E C O R A T I O N , D E S I C N K U B Y J A C K F R O S T , E S Q .

A C H U R C H B U I L T O F P A P E R .

G e n e v a , N . Y . . D e c e m b e r , 1883.

D e a r J a c k - i n - t h e - P u l p i t : I n ih c s c d a y s o f t i s iu g c o m p r e s s e d •paper o r p a p ic r -m a c h é (w h i c h i « o n l y m a s h e d p a p e r a f t e r a l l ) fo r very ' m a n y d l f ic r c n t k in d s o f a n i d e s , w e a l l h a v e h e a r d o f j » a p e r p w ls an d p a p e r b o w ls , a n d e v c n o f p a p e r b o a i s a m l p a p e r c a r - w h e e ls ; b u t d íd e v e r y o u h e a r o f a b u i íd in g m a d e o f p a p e r : í v o t lo n g a g o 1 w a s lo id th a t s o m e w h e r e in K i i r o p e , n e a r B e r g e n , th e r e i « a ch u rch b u i l t c u i i r e l y o f p a p e r o r p íp ic r * m a c h é . I t is o f th e C o n n * in ian o rd e r o f a r c h i t e c tu r e , a n d is la r g e e n o u g h t o a c c o m m o d u le

« n c th o u san d p e r s o n s c o m fo r ia b ly .^ o w , c an th e L i t t l e S c h o o h n a 'a m , o r D c n c o n C r e e n , o r a n y ol

>|Our ih o u ra n d s o f y o u n g h e a r e r s , h e lp m e lo fu r th e r k n o w le d g e o f th k t w n n d e r fu l p a p e r c h n r c h ? W h o iL V í s e e n i t ? A n d w h e r e i s ih is K u ro p ca n B e r g e h ? I a m , d eru J . 1. T . P . . y o t i t ^ i r i i l y ,

Ak A l n t rip TWO R e a d e r s o f S t . N ic h o l a s .

in v e s i ig a iio n s su o n e s ia b lish e d th e ir u lh o f w h a l h a d b e e n told o f i l . L o n g fd lo w sp c a k s o f it in “ E v a n g e l i n e ” s a y in g :

“ L o o k a c . t h a t d e lica te p lan t, w h ic h re a r s i i s h e a d fro m th e m e a d o w ; , , ,

S c c lio w l is le a v e s ure tu rn ed to ih e n o r th a s in ie a s tne

T l 'd b ^ ls lh c com pa-ss flo w er , th a t th e f in g e r o f G o d h a s plantee! H e r e in th e h o u se lc ss w Ü d, to d ire c t th e t t a v c le r 's j o u r n e y ,”

B u t th e d e a r p o e t m ade a m U ta k c w h cn h e c a lle d i l a “ d e lica te p la n t ,” fo r i t i s o v e r m an ’ s h e ig h t, a n d c o v e r e d w ith a ro u g h fiiz r , ! ^ t a n i s i s th o u g h t a i f i r s i th a l lt« le a v e s w e re a t lr a c ie d b y p o la r m ag* n e iisin b u t ih e y a re n o w sa tis fie d ih a l In ih ís m a n n e r Ihu p la n t is b etter p ro te cte d fro m th e r a y s o f th e sun .

R e s p e c t fu l ly y o u r s , A L i t t i . e S c h o o l m a a m .


T H E L E T T E R ' B O X .

B y a n o v e re ig h t, th e te x t a s w e ll a s che i l lu í t r a i io n o f Üie p ie c e cn tu IcU " L a l l a b y , ” a n d p r in te d o n p a g e 9 5 o f o u r D e c e m b e r num * b e r, w a » c ce d ited to M is s M a r y A , !Ú ichb\iry. T h e lín c s a r e re a lly n c ran slatio n fro m ih c O e rm a n , a n d M is s L a ih b u r y o n ly g a v e chcm th e p r e t t y s c t l in g w ith w h íc h t h e y m a d e t h d r a p p e a ra n c c in “ S t .

N ic h o l a s . ”

S t r a t p o r d , C o n n . , x l - ^ .fo r in re eD e a r S i . N ic h o i .a s : I h a v e la k c n y o u r n íc c m a g a a in e fo r ih r c í

y e a r s , a n d I l ik e i t v e r y m u ch . I th in k che " T i n k h a m B ro lh e rt ' T id e -m ill ” í s sp len d id . M a m m a l ik e d i t v e r y m u ch , a n d sh e said sh e ih o u e h t th a t S y l B a t i la n d o u g h t to h a v e a k i s s fo r te llin g .

F r a n k S . B .

RiCBM O NO , V a . , 18 8 3 . D e a r S t . N i c h o l a s ; I h a v e b e e n t a k in g y o u fo r tw o y e a rs .

M y b ro ih e r cook y o u fo r m e la se y e a r fo r a C h r is tm a s g if t , a n d I h o p e ih a t h e w i l l ta k e it th is y e a r . l h a v e a g r e a t m a n y C h ris tm a s a n d o th e r c a rd s - W ill n o t so m e o f th e re a d e rs p le a se te ll m e h o w to m a k c s o m e t h in g ;o f th e m ? I a m lite d o f p ic iu re sc rap -b o o k s . W ít h b e s t w ish e s fo r a h a p p y C h ristm a s ,

Y o u r c o n s ia n t rc a d e r , B e s s i e L .

In th e ” L e t t e r - b o x ” fo r J a n u a r y , 18 8 3 , w e p r in te d a le tt e r fro m F . H . P . , c o n t a in in g s i ig g e s lio n s fo r a C h ris tm a s-c a rd firc-screcn . I t w o u ld b e w e ll, w c th in k , fo r B e s s ie L . a n d o th e r g ir ls w h o h a v e " a g r e a t m a n y C h ris tm a s-c a rd s ,” 10 t r y che c x p e r lm e n i w h ic h F . H . P . su g g e s is .

W e l l s b o r o , P a - U e a r S t . N i c h o l a s : I a m q u íte a n o íd b o y n o w — 1 8 lase w e e k

— Isn ’ t th a t o íd ? B u t n o w , lo te ll th e tru ih a b o u t it , I d o n ’ t lik e this b e iiig a o o íd b o y m u c h ; a n d 1 te ll y o u 1 e n v y th a t g r a d e o f b o y s w h o c a n j u s t b o asc o f te n o r tw e lv e yesu-s w ith th e ir a lm o st bound- les8 freóT om . I t ’s su c h a b o th e r lo g e t olcl, a n y w a y ; y e t w e a re aj- w a y s d e si r in g ít , a n d 1 r a t h e r th in k w e w o u ld h a v e to , w h e th e r w e d id o r n o t . I a m a s fo n d o f th e b r ig h t m o n lh ly a s ever- 1 h a v e al« w a y s retid i t fa ith fu lly a n d d e fe n d e d n fe a r le s s ly . I su p p o se 1 sh o u ld b e a sh a m e d to s a y it , b u t 1 h a v e b e c o m e a lm o st p r d u d ic e d a g a in s t o th e r ch ild ren ’ 8 m a g a z ln e s . I t so u n d s r ld ic u lo u s ror m e lo s a y ; ” B o y s , b e U ttlc b o y » a s lo n g a s y o u c a n , fo r y o u 'I I so o n h a v e to b e b ig b o y s ” ; a n d y e t tt i s p ro p e r e n o u g h , fo r I a m a d is tr ic t sc h o o l te a c h e r w ith tw o m o n th s ' e x p e rie n c e . I h a v e n e v e r w r iite n y o u a le tte r b e fo re , th o u g h I h a v e o ften in te n d e d to . I t o ften se e m s to m e a s i f y o u w e re th e m édiu m o f fe e lin g b e lw co n a l l th e b o y s a n d g ir l s in th e la n d . I w is h y o u che fr ie n d sh ip a n d lo v e o f a l l ch ild ren e v e r y w h e re . Y o u r CTue frie n d , E . S . P .

w ith sa í ls se t , carn e o u t o f th e g lo o m fro m th e r ig h t , sa íle d majesiic> s illy a c ro ss th e g lo w iu g a r c h , a n d d isa p p e a r e d in th e g lo o m beyond.

I s a w a n o th e r sh íp in th o su 11, Ín th e M ed ite rran ean S e a , or> a c le a r b eau tifu l e v e n in g , w h en w a te r a n d s k y w e re p la c ld a n d lo v c ij. A s h ip c ro sse d th e d ís k o f th e su n jiu st a s i t w a« s ín k in g , and it w a s a b e a u tifu l s íg h i . B u t Ít w a s n o t so ím p re ssív e a s th es ló p m th e s u n w lr ic h w e s a w w h íle o n th e A t la n t ic . F . H . N .

E l g in , D e c c m b e r 3 , 1883.D e a r S t , N ic h o l a s : I th o u g h t I w o u ld w r i ie a n d te ll y o u about

o u r M o th e r H u b b a r d p a r t y .M y c o u s in fro m T e x a s ts v i s i i ín g m e , a n d w e t l lo u g h t ít w ould be

nevr a n d o d d to l ia v e a M o th e r H u b b a r d p a r t y . S o th e ínvítaiiinis w e re g iv e n o u t, to b e a c c e p te d o n ly o n c o n d ítío n th a t a ll o f tbe y o u n g la d ie s w e a r M o th e r H u b b a r d s o f so m e k in d - W hen die e v e n in g ca rn e , it w a s a v e r y p re tt y s íg h t to se e a l l th e quaiiiily a tt ire d l íit le la d ie s , w íth th e ir h & r d o n e ín h ig h p u fls , a n d pow deicd, a n d w l ¿ d a in t y l it ü e re tícu lo s h a n g in g on th e ir arm.s.

T h e e v e n in g w a s p le a sa n t ly sp e n t ín g a m e » , d a n c in g , m usic, uiid re c ita d o n s fro m se v e ra l o f th e n u m b er. I th o u g h t, p erh ap s, ilu i so m e o f y o u r y o u n g re a d c rs m ig h t l ik e th e id e a , a n d h o p in g iticy m a y d e r iv e a s m u c h p le a su r e fro m 5t a s I h a v e ,

I am , y o u r s t r u ly , M . W.

M a r i p o s a , S c p tc m b c r 1 6 , 18&3 D e a r S t . N ic h o l a s : I w ish v e r y m u c h to te ll y o u h o w much

p le a su re y o u r m a g a z ío e h a s g iv e n me.I a m fo u n e e n y e a r s o íd , a n d U ve w a y u p m th e S ie r ra N evada

m o u n ta in s , In a p re tt y v i l la g e c ^ le d M a n p o s a . I t ís v e r y wati» h e re ín su m m er, & u t a fe w m ile s fu rth e r u p it ís cool.

M r. F re e m o n t p u b lish e d m a p s , w íth M a r ip o s a m a rk e d a s a c ::y , a n d M a r ip o s a C re e k a la r g e r ív e r , w ith steam * b o a ls on ít , w h ile h Is n o t d e e p e n o u g h fo r e v e n a sm a ll b o aL

I h a v e ta k e n S t . N i c h o l a s fo r f iv e o r s i x y e a r s ; a t first, m y si'ter read Ít a lo u d fo r m e, b e c a u se I co u ld n o t re a d m y se lf . S ix g irls, m. c lu d in g m y se lf, h a v e a c lu b c a lle d th e M a r ip o s a S u n *b o n n eis : wc m e et e v e r y S u n d a y a t p y . m. a n d re a d a I l t d c p a p e r, fo r which e a c h o f u s w r ite s so m eth in g .

A n o th e r lit t le g ir l a n d m y s e lf tr ied w r itu ig s t o r ic s ; sh e wrotc fu- le e n , I , s e v e n ty -n ín e p a g e s . *

I w is h 1 co u ld w r ite a s n ice s t o r ie s a s th o se ih a t a re m S t . í v i : ¡ i - OLAS. B u t I d o n 't su p p o s e 1 e v e r sh a ll. Y o u r s iru ly ,

S e c . o f t h e M . á . B . ’ ' .

J . C -— T h e lin o y o u in en tio n , " T h e co n sc io u s w a te r sa w íts (/” d a n d b U ish e d ,” w a s w r itte n b y R ic h a r d C r a s h a w , a n F n g lb h p 'c i w h o liv e d d u r in g th e fir st h a l f o f th e sc v e n te e n th ce n tu ry .

R o c k p o r d , 1 1 1 .I w a n t to te ll y o u o f a q u e e r p e t w e h a d la s t su m m er. S tan d *

is h , m y o ld e st b ro th er , g o t a y o u n g w o o d c h u c k in che w o o d s , an d h e tan ted h im so th a t h e w o u ld s n u g g le u p u n d e r h is a rm , a n d g o to s le e p o n h is sh o u ld e r, a n d te a se to b e ta k e n I ik e a ü lt le b a b y . W e a l l c a l le d h im " C h u c k y , ” b e c a u se h e w o u ld m a k e su c h a q u eer, so lcm n , lit ü c u n d e r*g ru u n d , c h u c k lln g n o ise . H e w a s r e a l n ic e fo r a fe w w e e k s , a n d then h e g o t u g ly a n d c ro ss a n d s n a p p e d a t u s , an d f in a l ly h e r a n off, a n d w e w e r e 2 l g la d o f í t b u t S ta n d ish . M . B .

E l l e n C h a s e ,— W e a r e ín c lin c d to a d o p t y o u r su g g esr io n as t

th e d ra w in g s . P le a s e se n d addre»».

" A S h i p in t h e S u n . ' ’

A c o r rc sp o n d e n t w h o h as b e e n r e a d in g th e le tte r s in “ S t , N ic h - o L A s ” a b o u t " A S h ip Ín th e M o o n ,” w r ite s to te ll u s a b o u t a n e q iiu lly s t ra n g e a n d h e a u iifu l s ig h t . H e s a y s :

1 h a v e seen th e S h ip Ín ih c S u n fro m th e d e c k o f th e U n ite d SiACcs slc.*un*frigate C o lo ra d o , o f f th e A t la n t ic c o a s t o f S p a i n . 'T h e d a y h a d t « e n s to rm y , b u t th e w in d w a s g o in g d o w n w ith th e su n , a n d h a d m o d e ra te d to a " t o 'g a l la n t b r e e z e — th a t is , a w in d w h ic h w ill a JIo w .1 v e s se l to sp r e a d tb c la r g e r p a r t o f h e r saÜ s, T h e se a w a s s t il l lO u g h , hoN vever, a n d h e a v y g lo o m y -lo o k ín g c lo u d s c ro iich ed u p o n th o h o riz o n , m a k in g th e p ro s p e c t fo r th e n ig lu r a t h e r d ism al.

S u d d e n ly th e c lo u d s líf le d f o r a m o m en t o f f to th e w e s t iv a r d , r ig h t in th e d ire ct io n o f ih c s c t l ín g s u n , a n d fo rm e d a n a rc h o f g lo w in g fire . w h o se lig h t Ut u p th e tu rb u le n t sea . A t th ís m o m en t a sh íp ,

R , H . — A u lh o r il ie s d iffe r a s to th e m c a su rem e n is o f iJ ie to « o r o f P is a . A p p le t o n 's E n c y c lo p e d ia g iv e » tlie h e ig h t 17 9 fcet, oud th e d ia m e te r 50 fcet. L ip p in c o tt ’ s G a z c t tc e r g iv e s th e h e ig lu 178 lee t, a n d th e d ia m e te r 5 0 feet. T h e E n g lis h P o p u la r E n cyclopcú ia s a y s th e h e ig h t Ís 17 9 fe c t, w íth a d e v ia t io n o f 1 3 fe e t from the perp e n d icu la r . I t a ls o g iv e s che n u m b e r o f s t e p s a s 294, a n d the num* b e r o f b e lls a s 7. I n S c r íb n e r 's M o n th ly fo r A i ig u s t , 1874 , m ay be fo u n d an a r t ic lc h v M r . W , H . G o o d y e a r on th e Je a n in g lO'vcf, w h ic h g iv e s th e h e ig h t a s 1 5 1 fcet.

H a r t f o r d , C t ., D c c e m b e r 3, 1883.D e a r S t . N i c h o l a s ; I h a v e ta k e n th e b o o k (1 c a l i it a b o o k , be-

c a u s e I l ik e t h a l ñ a m e b e tte r th a n m a g a z ín e ) e v e r s in c e i t w as first p u b lish c d , an d I l ik e í t b e tter a n d b c itc r e v e r y y e a r . I used U> read th e sto r ie s fir s t , b u l n o w I turn to " J a c k ” fir st ih ín g , a n d I m iss him v e r y m u c h in th is D e c e m b e r n u m b er. I am a fm id h e w ill not h a ' C a M e r r y C h ris tm a s , b e c a u se h e d id n o t h a v e h ís c u sto m a ry u ilk witn u s. I w ish h im o n e w ith a ll in y h e a rr , a n d y o u too. Y o u do not k n o w h o w m u c h g o o d y o u d o m e. 1 c a n g e t m a tc r ia ls fo r com p > :ú tions, lit t le p la y s , fu n , e m p lo y m e n t, w o rk w h en I w an t it , ano co u n tic ss o th e r tfiín g s , u . ^

I h a v e a lit t le b la c k k l ite n , a n d m y s is t e r a n d 1 h a v e tau g b t it a


i r i c k i W h e n sh e iv a s a lit t le m ite o f a th in g , w h e n e v e r sh e w a s u , „ " r v an d >' w a s n o n v cn ien c to g iv e h e r im lk , w e p u t h e r in a

U o I r W c o n t a i n i n g c r a c k c r e , a n d a s so o n a s sh e g o t onc_w e to o k n i u o f th e h ag . S h e su o n learn ed , so th a t sh e w i ll g o m ío a n y

hae sh e aces an d sh e lo o lts re a l c u n n in g . U u t w e h a v e 10 lo o k o u t forhier S l ie w ill ju m p o v e r a n y t h in g w c h o ld o u t, e v e n i f ic is re a l íiioh- an d i f w e le.avc a d o o r u n la tc h c d , sh e w i l l a c ra tc h 1 1 opon. «Ke J l l ¡u m p o n th e s in k a n d d r in k w a te r front t h e fa u c e i , a n d w h cn i i e has ¿ a d e n o u g h sh e w i ll p la y w i íh th e st re a m , an d n o t m ifld the w e id n a .a b ii. S h e lo v e s u s a ll , a n d w e a l l lo v e h e r . I h a v e l o l s o f rhinrs’ lo s a y , a n d c o u ld w n t e e v e r so m u c h m o te . Y o u k n o w 1 h.,vo kn ow n y o n a l l y o u r life , s e to s p e a k ; b u t I m u se n o t ta k e tip aav more o f y o u r tim e . W is h in g y o u a v e r y h a p p y N e w Y e a r , 1 am, yo u rs m ily , _______ J e s s i e 1. M .

D e c e m b e r 2 , 18 8 3 .D tA R S t N i c h o l a s : I h a v e n e v e r w r itte n lo y o u b e fo re , ih o u g l)

vou have bccn g iv e n 10 m e b y a k in d la d y fo t c ig h t y ^ . A fe w veur- uíTo ib e re w a $ a v e r y m ie r e s t iiig a r t ic ie , m o n e o t th e n u m bers, abnm Ihe g ía n i to rp e d e e s w h ic h ca n b lo w u p sh ip s , a n d u to ld w h e re soDie o f th em w e re s ia tio n c d . I rem em b ered it , a n d th is sp n n g , whcn on o n e o f th e F a l l R i v e r b o a is , I lo o k e d o u t fo r th e p la c e , nnd iheru it w a s ju s l a s th e s t o r y s su d ; che w o r d s “ lo r p c d o c s ! d o n t anchar " ” ín g r e a t le tle rs , a n d v e r y fe w sh ip s n e a r che p la c e . C a n voH icll me w h a t k in d o f n o ísc s b e a v e rs m a k e , o r w h e th e r th e y m ak e an\ a i all ? I i i a b o o k m y m o lh e r w a s re a d in g , a p e rso n w a s s a id to eo uraun d m a k in g “ q u e e r l i i i le b eaver-U k e n o ise s ,” a n d m y m o ih cr did »o i kn o w w h a t t h e y w e re . I b e lo n g to a n A g a-ssiz c h a p le r . a n d mv Iffülhers 10 lw o , an d I w a s v e r y g la d to s e c th a t a n o lic e o f ou r c h r ii> ic r , N o . s x 3 . p u t ¡ n o n e o f th e n u m b e rs o f b T . N i c h o l a s . Cainain R c id ’ s ” T-and o f F » re ” lo o k s v e r y m e e ; 1 sh o u ld t lu n k a ü ib« hny^ w o u ld lik e it . 1 wa.s so s o r r y to h e a r o f th e a u th o r s a c a tli, 1 would b e e x c c c d in g ly o b lig c d i f y o u w o u ld a n s w e r m y q u esü o n .

Y o u r v e r y m u ch in te re ste d fr ie n d , K u t h iS.

U'u prefer to lee so m e o f o u r b o y s a n d g ir ls a n s w e r Ih e q u e s t io n — which is a v e r y g o o d n a tu ra l h is lo r y p ro b lem , W h o ca n n ccu ra ce ly desciibc for u s th e “ k m d o f n o is e ” t h a t b e a v e rs m a k e ? P e r h a p s it i!,som ew h atU ke che “ q u e e r, so le m n , little u n d c r-g ro u n d , c h u c k lin g

n o ist ' m en iío n cd b y M . B . o n th e p rc c e d in g p a g e .

c h ry sa lid s , a n d n o w o n c h a s com e o u l a p r e l i y m oth . I t Ís í ig lu b ro w n , s h a d ín g in io d a rk e r s i r lp e s o f b ro w iu í l ík e S t . N ic i k u .a s v e r y , v e r y m u ch . I re a d ¡ i o v e r a n d o v e r a g a in .

G B R T R t 'n n F „ P .

A l e i h , M t , L s b a k o n , A u g u s c 3 1 , D e a r S t . N i c h o l a s : I a m a lU tle g ir l w h o w a s b o rn o h M i.

Lebanon. M y h o m e h a s a lw a y s b e e n in S y n a . I h k e n a tu ra l hision- v e r y m u ch . A w h ile a g o I fo u n d so m e la r g e w o r m s on ou r crapo v in c s ; o n e w a s g re e n , a n d th e o th ers w e re b ro w n . I h e greeii o n c 'o o n turned b ro w n , sh o w in g i i s e l f 10 b e th e sa ín e k in d a s th e oiheis, I puc ih c m ín a n e m p t y flo w er*p o t u n id t h e y m a ü e tn eir

l i l a A s h Io n , L u c ia T . H e n d e rso n , H , P . H o lt , D e a n S . M eac lm in ,H . A , I . . , B la n c h c V a r s , K it t ie L iv e rm o re , C o r a C . P a rra in o re , M .H . , J , T r ix , M a y H ic k e rs o ii, H e n r ie ita M . G . , F r y i iú e D . I I c w c u , C lin to n F r a n k lin , E d d ie N . P u r d ic k , Y a n k e e B o y , C o n s ta n t R e a d e r (C h ic a g o ) , A n g ie W , M y e r s , L ilU e S . S m íih , H o w a r d N e w m n n , M a r g a r e t J , W rig h t , A . W . H , , A . S . , B e l i y H a rr is o n , M i Id red H a rr is o n , S a r a h B a n k s , í i e l e n W . S o u le, M a r y A . F r i c k , P h il M ig h e is , “ E m id y ,” a n d a co res o f o th ei-s : W e w is h w c co u ld p rin t e v e r y o n e o f y o u r o le e le lie r s , d e a r fr ie n d s , b u l fo r th a t a I .e t te r -b o x o f A d o z e n p a g e s w o u ld be req u ired . A n d w e m itst b e c o n te n í w íth th a o k in g y o u o n c a n d a ll fo r ih e iiu c r e s t in g th in g s y o u le ll u s a n d fu r y o u r h e a rty w o r d s a b o u t “ S t . N i c h o l a s , ” W e a r e m ore thaii g la d if, in so m a n y w a y s , th e m a g a e iu e a id s so m a n y e a r n c s i g ir ls

a n d b o y s.

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c o rn m e n t b y W . D . H o w e l l s . B o s t o n ; J a m e s R , O s g o o d Se C o .

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W o m e n S e r ie s . ) B y G r a c e O r e e n w o o d ( lU u s l r a t e d . ) N u w V o r k :

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“ H a n s B r in k e r . ” B o s i o n : R o b e r i s H r o lh e r s .

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a d a p t o d , a n d c o n l i n u e d f i o m S i r i c k la n d ’ s “ Q u c c n s o f E n g l a n d . " H y

R o s a l i e K a i i fm a n . ( l i l u s t r a i e d . ) B o s io n ; E s t e s S ; L -a u r ia i.

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C . E m m a C h e n e y . ( I l l u s t r a t e d . ) B o s i o n ; E s t e s & L a u r ia t .

" R o s y . " B y M r s . M o le s w o r th . U lu s c ta lc d b y W a l t e r C r a i ie .

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A G A S S I Z A S S O C I A T I O N — T H I R T Y - F O U R T H R E P O R T .T H E

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548 C ra n fo rd , N . J . ( A ) . . . . 6 . . M i s s L o t r i e W a i M n .549 L In l i lh g o w , S c o t la n d ( A ) . . b . . W n t. W a r c l r o p , G o w a n C o i t a g e .

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t lu d c d ; a n d w c n o w h a v e t h e p le a s u r e o f o p e n in g to o n r m crn ber.s a

clas«i ín p r a c i ic a l p h y r i o l o g y ,

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purpo&o o í p r e v e n t in g o r a l l e v i a l in g s u f f e r in g a n d s íc k n e s s .

In i?Ó4 a s o c ie iy w a s o r g a n iz c d a c B e r n e , S w iu c r i a n d . f o r t h e p u r pose o f a l l e v ia l in g s u n e r in g In w a r , B r a n c h e s h a \ e s in c e b e e n o r -

p n i r c d in m o s t c i v i l i z e d c o u n t r ie s , a n d t h e s c o p e o f ih e w o r k h a s D«cn W o a d e n e d s o a s t o in c lu d e c i v i l a n d d ocn e¡5t i c s u f fe r in g , t h e re* M ilt o f w a r , p y s i í le n c e , f a m in e , f l o o d , f ir e , a n d t h e U k e . In h o n o r lo « m e , t h e R e d C ro s s w a s c h o s e n a s t h e b a d g e o f th e s e s o c ic l l e s , s i iu b y a c i i i io n s c o in c id e n c e , ih o u g h f o r a d i f l e r e n t r e a s o n , t h a t í s a ls o

ih c b a d g c o f th e A . A .

R e a l i z i n g i h e f a c t t h a t “ I t i s b c i i e r t o k e e p w e l l t h a n to m e n d , ” i h e “ R e d C r o s s ” h a s e n d e a v o r e d iu h e a lth l o p r e p a r e f o r s ic k n e s s

a n d s u f fe r in g . F o t t h is p u r p o s e , le c tu r e s a n d c la s s c s h a v e b c c n h e ld in s e v e r a l c i t ie s l o in s t r u c t t l i o s e in t e r e s ie d , in t h e c a r c o f ih e s i c k a n d i n e i v i n g “ f i r s t a id 10 t h e in ju r e d . ” ^ ^

f l h a s b e e n i lm u g h t th a t m c m b e r s o f ih c A g a s s i? , A a s o c ia i i o n m i e h t b e in t e r e s t e d in ih ís w o r k , a n d m ig h t b e p le a s e d to a p p l y ih c i r k n o w l e d g e o f N a t u r a ! H i s t o r y t o s o m e j j r a c i i c a l a d v a n u g c , a n d to

a l l s u c h w e o p e n t h e ' ‘ R e d C ro s s C la s s . ’B e f o r e e f f i c i c n t a id c a n b e g i i - e n m s ic k n c s s , ih e h u m a n b o d y m u s t

b e s tu d ie d in i t s n o r m a l c o n d i l i o n o f h c a l t l i , T h i s s t u d y m u s t in - d u d e th e c o n s t r u c i io n a n d fo r m s o f t h e p a r t s o f th e b o d y a s m d iy id . i i a l o r e a n s a n d a s c o m p o i t c n i p a r i s o r a c o m p l i c n i c o r g a n is m . I h i s i s

c a l le d a n a t o m y T h e s lu d y m u .st a U o m c h id e t h e fu n c t io n s o f m e v a r i o i i * o tg .m ts ; u r p ) i y s i o l o g y . M i v a r i ’ í L e s s o n s in E le m c n m r y A i m t o m y a n d H u x l e y 's E le r a c n ia r y L e s s n n s m P h y í i o l o B y w ill b e

fu u n d u a e fu l a s b o o k s o f r c fe r e n c c . j n u i .T h e c o u r s e i s t o e x i e i i d t b r o u g h s i x m o n tb s , a n d a » w h o c o m p le t e i l

s i ic c e s s fu l ly s h a l l r e c e iv e a c e r t i f t c a ie . T o th o s e fu r n is h in g s n iis -

f a c i o r v e v id c n c e o f a b i l i t y t o p u l in t o p r a c t ic o t h e in s t iu c t io n s g i v e n f o r " F i r s t n ld in c a s e s o f a c c id e n i o r e r a o r g e n c y , a c c r t i f i t a i c .sh a »

b e c i v e n t o ih a t e f f e c t .E a c h m e m b e r o f th e c la s s w i l l b e e x p e c t e d to w n i e a s h o r t p ,n per

o n t h e t o p ic a s s ig n e d e a c h m o n th . K n o w l e d g e is t o ^ o b ia m c d b y o b s e r v a i io n a n d s tu d y o f a n im a ls a n d p l a i i l s a s in d iv id u á is a n d m r e - ia i i o n l o m a n , a n d f r o m b o o k s . M o s t p h y s jc ia n s w ill h e g l a d t o g i v e

in fo t m a i ío n w h e n a s k e d , a n d .so m e c h a p t e r s m i g h t w i i h a d v .-m ia g c r e q i i e e t a p h y s ic la n to g i v e ih e m a s e n e s o f l e c t u t i » o n a n a to m y

a n d p h y s i o l o g y a n d e m c r g e n c ic s . _A m a n u a l w iU h e p r e p a r e d e a c h m o n ih c o n la i in n g a n o u l l i n e o f ih e

w o r k f o r t h e m o n t h ; a n d c o m m e n L s w i l l b e a d d e d w h e n n c c e s s a r y , t o g e t h e r w i t h in s ir u c t io n s f o r ih e p r a c u c a l a p p h c a t in n o f t h e facL s

T h e in s t r u c t io n a n d ih e s ix m a n u a ls a r e f r e e l o a l l . T h e s u h je c t


f o r Ih U m o n th i s " T h e S k e l r t o n ; B o n e s , j o i n u ; ca iit p a r iso n be- t iu e en th o se 0 / lo s o e r a t l im a ls a n d n ra u . P r a c t íc a l a p p lk a t io H . F r a c t u r e s , d isto ca tio n s , a n d s f r a i n e . F i r s t t r e a t in e n l. A / t c r i r e a t m e n í . "

C h a r le s E v e r e t t W a r t e n , M , D . , 51 U n i o n P a r k , B o s to n , h a s v e r y g c n e r o u s ly v o h in t e e r e d to c o n d u c t ü i is c ift s s , a n d t o h im a l l w h o d e s ir e f o f o l l o w th e c o u is e , e n t i r e o r in p a r t , s h o u ld a e n d a t o n c e ih e i r n a rn e s a n d a d d r e s s c s , a n d a p o s i a g e s t a m p f o r th e f i r s t m a n u a l

N a s h ü a , N . H , , N o v . 29 , 1883.

D k a k M r . B a l l a r d : W e w is h v e r y m u c l i 10 h a v e a g e n e r a !

m e e r í n g o f th e A . A . h c ld in N a s h u a .W c a r e m a k in g a r r a n g e m e n t s n o w , a n d t h in k w e c a n c a r r y i t

th r o u g h . F r b d . W . G r b e l e y ,S e c r e t a r y C h a p t e r s i .

[ W c w is h t h e N a s h u a C h a p t e r a l l s u c c e s s tn i t s g e n e r o t is a n d

w id e - a x v a k c p la n . 1

E x C H A N G B S , E TC .

K n g l i s h a n d F r e n c h f l í n t f o r a m e a d o w - la r k 's e g g . — H . W . W e s t -

w o i x l , 3 1 9 M a r k e t S t r e e t , T r e n to n , N . J .M a n g a i i e s e ( f i n e ) . — C a r o U n e S . R o b e r t s , S e c . 5 22 , S h a r o n , C o n n .

B i r d s ' e g g s — R . W . F o r d , P I y m o u t h , C o n n ,S h e l l s a n d m in e r a ls f o r in s e c ts , W r i t e fir .s t.— C , L . S t c p h a n ,

P i n c C i t y , M In n ,C o r r o s p o n d e n c e .— W i l l i e H . B la c k , 3 0 1 S . B r o a d w a y , S t . L o u i s , M o . F o s s i is f o r m in e r a ls a n d b i r d s ' e g g s , b lo w n t b r o u g h o n e h o le ,

C o r r e s p o n d c n c c . ’— F . H . W e n t w o r t h , 153 2 5 th s ic c e t , C h ic a g o , 111 (G o c o o n s o f C c c r o p la a n d P o l y p h c m u s f o r c o c o o n s o f L u n a o r

o t h e r m o th s . M o t h s a ls o f o r e x c ^ a n g e . — F r e d . C o r r e g a n , 4 7 E . 7 th

S tr e e t , O s w e g o , N . Y .C a n a d ia h e g g s , s h e l l s ín s e c L s . m ln e m ls , a n d f lo w e r s . C h a p t e r

355 .— W , D . S f ia w , s e c . , 34 S t , P e t e r S tr e e t , M o n t r c a l , C a n ,100 0 c o c o o n s o f P r o m e t h e u s , C e c r o p ía a n d P o l y p h c m u s a n d s p r e a d

P r o r n c t h e a m o th s , f o r o th e r s ,— C h a s . A . W j l e y , 8 6 2 C a s s a v e n u e , D e

t r o i t , M ic h ,S e a c u r io s i t ie s , c o q u in a s t o n e , s ta r - fis h e s , a n d m in e r a ls f o r o th u r

m in e r a U a n d fo s s i is . G a m e t g e o d c a n d t r i l o b i t e p a r t í c u l ^ l y d e s i r e d .— E l l e n C . W o o d , 1 4 0 S c h o o l la ñ e . G e n n a n t o w n , P h i la . , P a .

E I g h t y - f i v c v a r i e t i c s o f C o l o r a d o m in e r n k f o r b ir d - s k in s , g o o d in s e ts , o r in s e c ts — A . W . A n t h o n y , 8 2 7 C a l i fo r n ia s t . , D e n v e r . C o l .

R e d s e a b c a n s , t w o h o r n c d b e e t le e , t w o J u n e b u g s , a m o c k in g * b i r d 's e g g a n d nesst, a n d t w o a l l l g a t o r s j u s t f r o m t h e e g g . — K i i i y C .

R o b e r t s , B la c k w a t e r , F U ,

N o t e s .

57. S p ie ie r s w e r e a t o n e t im e c la s s í f le d a s in s e c ts , a n d a c e s tü l so c a l l e d in c o m m o n p a r la n c e . N o w , h o w e v e r , t h e y a r o s e p a ra te d f r o m in s e c ts , a n d t h . c U s s i f ic a t ío n Ís a s f o l i o w s :

( A r i ic i ih x U s : H n v h t g ; (A e Itody a n d n re m h e rs n r í ia d a t e d , K o h i t e m a l s k e k io H .)

In s e c t s . — H e a d , b o d y , a n d .a b d o m e n d i s i i n c t i le g s , 6 ; e y es , 2 . S p id c r s .— H e a d a n d b o d y ( i h o r a x ) in s e p a r a b le , b u t d is l in c t f r o m

a b d o m e n ; le g s , S ; e y e s m in u t e , 6 - S .M y r i a p o d s . - m a n y f e e t , 2 o - í> o , w o r m - l ík e .C r u s t a c e a n s .— B o d y c o v e r e d w i t h a c r u s ia c e o u s s h e l l , l i k e c r a b s ,

e t c , : e y e s , a.W o r m s . — E a r t h - w o r m , r . e e c h , e tc . N o fe e t .

T l t e f o l l o w i n g a r e t h e b e s t s p íd c r b o o k s :I . J , H . E m m e n o n , S t r u c t u r e a n d H a b i t s o f S p ld e r s . O n ly s e p á

r a t e b o o k o n s p td e rs .8 , A r t i c l e o n A r a c h n id a in n in th e d iü o n E n c y c l o p c d ía B r i t a n n ic a .

T h i s a r t i c l e w i t h t h e b o o k a b o v e i s .s u ff ic ie n t t o s t 'a r t .a p e r s o n in th e S c ie n c e .

3. A g r e a t m a n y o í d w o r k s o n e n t o m o lo g y ( K i r b y &: S p c n c c , e t c . ) , w h e n s p id c r s w c r e s t í l l c la s s e d w i t h In s e c ts , c o n t a in r c m a r k s u p o n th e m .

4 . H c n t r , N . M . — S p id e r s o f t h e U n i t e d S ta te s .5 .^ R e p u b l Í c a t io n o f t h e a b o v e b y J . H . E m m e r t o n , 1875 , Ín p u b l í -

c a t t o n s o f B o s t o n S o c i e t y o f N a t u r a l H is c o r y .6. S p id e r s o f N e w K n g la n d . b y J . H . E m m e r t o n . J u s t p u b lis h e d .7. M .a n y o t i i e r í s o la ie d p u b l ic a t lo n s in r e p o r t s o n e n t o m o lo g y a n d

a g r ic t i l t u r c , a s w e l l a s o n s u r v e y s o f p a r í s o f U . S . , c o u ta in is o la t e d

s u t e m e n IS o n th e «u h je c i ,j , 2 , a n d 5 a r e s u l f i c i e n t f o r a U o id in a r y p u rp o s c s .

D r . A u g , y . F o r r s t e , D a y t o n , O h io . 5 8 - 4 0 , — T h e ñ a m e o f ch e b la c k f r o g - h o p p c t s m e n l io n e d ¡n N o t e

4 0 i s L e d r a r t f a . — E , L , S tc p h a ft .50. S le e p 0 / P in n is .— P la n t s s le e p w h e n i l Is d a r k , a n d t n u s i s le e p ,

o r t h e y d le . T h e y c a n n o t s le e p w c U i f t h e c -a rtli Is d r y , M r . D a r - w in f o u n d th a t a p la n t t h a t h e w a t c h e d c o u ld n o t s l e e p f o r lw o n i g h i s a f t e r b e i n g v i o l e n i l y s h a k e n .— C A . l o g , W a s h in g to n .

6 0 , T h e r h in o c c r o s h .is a n a r r a n g e m e n i t o d e a d c nth e c o n c u s s io n w h e n h is h o m s tc ik c s .n fíoU d b o d y . — C A , to g .

6 x . P l a i m u m Ís m a g n e t ic . — C h . lo g .6 a . S il ic o n í s t h e m o s t a b u n d a n t c l e m e n t e x c e p t o x y g e n ; 7 3 %

o f t h e a s h o f w h c a t s i r a w i s S i l i c o n . - C h . lo g ,6 3 . A f i t s . — V i t h .a vc n o t i c e d th .a t a n t s a r e v e r y c a r e fu l l o b r in g

in s e c t s in t o th c ír h o le s h e a d A r s t .—'F a i r f i e i d , l o w a .

6 4 . B l u e B i r d — I s a w a b lu e b i r d f e e d i n g í t s l i t t l e o n e w h ic h h ad b e e n c a u g h t a n d p u t Ín a c a g e w i i h a c a n a r y . T h e m o th e r b ird c o m e s e v e r y m o r n in g , l í g h i s o n th e c a g e , a n d f e e d s h e r l i t t le b ird th r o u g h th o w i t c s . — C a r n e L a m s o n , F a i r ñ c id , l o w a .

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472. H a z le lc n , W e h a v e a p a p e r e v e r y o t h e r w o e k , c a lledt h e -4 . I n f o n n e r . — T h . F . M c N a i r , S cc ,

237. P u in ís v U le , C o n n . , ^ . — W c h a v e t a k e n th e f i r s t p rem iu m ae o u r t o w n f a í r f o r o u r c o l l e c t io n o f c g g s ,^ W e h a v e s t a r t ^ a lib ra ry . O u r m e tn b e r s h ip h a s In c r c a s e d f r o m s ix t o i w c l v e . - F r a n c é s D

W a l k l e y , S e c .3 . F r a n k / o r d , P a . , A , , w a s t h e th i r d c h a p t e r o f t h e A . A . l o o rga n -

i z e , a n d is s t i l l o n e o f t h e m o s l v i g o r o u s o f a l ) , h a v i n g 69 m cm hcrs, a n d h a v in g r e c e n i l y t a k e n t h e l e a d ín o r g a n i z in g a u n ió n o f a ll ih e P h i l a d e lp h ia C h a p te r s . B y n lo n g - c o n i in u e d e r r o r Í l h a s b e e n ad- d r e s s c d a s N o . 1 10 , in s t e a d o f N o . 3 .— R . T . T a y l o r , S ec .

4 48 . W a s h in g to n , J } . C . , C .— W e h a v e h a d th r e e in t e r e s t in g w a rd « — a p a í r o f c a u b ir d s , r e s c u e d f r o m a b i r d ’ s -n e s te r , a n d a C u b a n f ir e . f ly

o v e r a n in c h l o n g , w lü i t w o “ U g h t s ” b a c k o f h k e y e s , T w o n ew m e m b e r s .— Is a b c l la F . M a c F a r l a n d , S e c ,

388. B e v e r l y , N . / . — W c h o p e t o p r o s p e r e v e n m o r e th is y ear th a n la s t , a l t h o u g h I t w o u ld s e e m a lm o s t im p o s s ib le 10 d o th a t, W e

h a v e le a r n e d a g r e a t d e a l f r o m t h e e s s a y a w h ic h h a v e b e e n b ro u gh t in , a n d w h ic h I h a v e c o p í e d in t o b la n x - b o o k s . W e s e n t 10 L . L L e w i s , o f C o p e n h a g e n , N . Y . , f o r a s m a l l c a b in c i , a n d w e r e s o much p ic a s e d w i t h í t t h a t w e s e n t f o r a l a r g e o n e , w i t h w h ic h w e a re <le-

l ig h te d .I t w a s r e m a r k a b le t o s e e h o w fa s t w e r a is e d t h e m o n e y f o r th a t ca lij.

n e t . W e h e ld a fa ir . T h e fa th e r o f o n e o f o u r m e m b e r s o w n c d a v a c a n i h o u s c , in a g o o d p a r t o f t h e t o w n , w h ic h h e k i n d l y l e t u s h a v e . W e u s e d th e tw o b a c k r o o m s .an d t h e s h c d . W e h e ld o u r f a i r o n c a f ic r - n o o n , a n d e v e n in g , a n d w c c ic .a rc d o v e r l l i i r t y - f i v e d o l la r s . I w j> ,lito s a y In b e h a l f o f t h e s í r l s o f o u r C h a p t e r t h a t i h c y m u s t b e a very d i f f e r e n t k i n d o f g i r l s f r o m th o s e in t h e c h a p t e r w h e r e th e y “ sit a r o u n d t h e r o o m a s s Ü c n t a s E g y p i í a n m u m m ic s , ” O u r g i r U h ave le a r n e d h o w t o ta lk , a n d a r e n o t a f r a id t o s h o w i t ,— A l í c e T . Lar-

p e n t e r , S e c .S p e a r j is h , D a k o t a .— I w i l l w r i t e s o m e th in g a b o u t o u r f lo o d . 11 raí ned

f o r o n c d a y s t e a d i l y , a n d th e n th e t ím e b e g a n . T h e Spc.irfi5 ih ih e r h a s a f a l l o f S o f e e t l o th e m í lc , a n d i t r o s e 8 f e e t . O h , Í i was g r a n d ! G r e a t w a v e s , 10 f o c t h í g h , w o u ld c o m e r i g h t o n to p ot* i-ne a n o th e r , a n d m a k e m e f r i g h t e n e d , B n t I s o o n g r e w a c c u s to m c il 10 i t , .an d s a t / o r h o u r s a t a l im e w a t c h in g it . I t s o u n d e d l ik e a ih ' u- s a n d t r a in s o f c a r s a l ! g o í n g a t o n c e . A p e r s o n s p e a k in g in con in ji*n t o n e s c o u ld n o t b e h e a r d . W e h a d t o s h o u t , a n d th e n i t w a s b a n l 10

u n d e r s t a n d w h a t w a s s a id -— J e a n n ic C o w g ü l .364. B r o o k ly n , D . — T w o n e w m e m b e r s . O i i r c a b i n e t n o w c o tn a in s

o v e r 1 0 0 m in e r a ls a r r a n g e d Ín o r d e r , l a b e le d , a n d c a ta lo g u c d —

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l e c t i n g i s n o t s o p o p u la r a m o n g u s fts f o r m e r ly , B ir d s * e g g s a r t not d ís c u s s e d in o u r r o e e c in g s . 1 n a v e s e e n t im e s in th e S p r m g w K e ii it s e e m e d a s Í f I m u s t l a k e j u s t o n c o f s o m e r a r e n c s l* fn U . 1 ilu l ge t o n e i r o m a n o v e r t h r o w n a n d d e s c r l e d n e s t o f a W i i s o n ’ s th r iK h , and

th a t w i t h o u t b r e a k in g t h e b w . — H e n r y A . C o o k e ,J 3 2 , B u f f a lo , i^ ,— W c fo r m t h e A r c b s c o l o g i c a l a n d G e o lo g ic a l

n r a n c h o f th e B u f l á l o S o c i e t y o f N a t u r a l S c ie n c e , u s in g th e ir T' oms f o r o u r m c e l in g s . W c h .a ve n o f e e s o r d u e s . W e e le c t o u r m em b cn j in s e c r e t s c s s io n , a n d t w o n e g a i i v c b a l lo t s r e j e c t a c a n d id a to . AH m e m b e r s o f th e A . A , a r e c o r d ia l l y in v i t e d t o o u r m e e t m g s , w b c h a r e h c ld M o n d a y s a t 7 ,3 0 P . M . , in t h e U b r a r y o f t h e N a tu r a l Scie n c e .S o c ie t y , in th e Y o u n g M e n ’s A s « o c Í a i l o n r o o m s , c o m e r I n g le a n d M a in s tr e e ts . — A . L , B e n c d ic t , S e c .

451. S y d n e y M in e s , C a j e B r e t ó n I s l a n d . — h a v e a n e w incin- b c T , a n d h a v e m a d e s p e c ia l s tu d y o f b o i a n y a n d e n t o m o lo g y .—• M,

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c r e a t Ín t e r e s ! ,— M i s s L í z z i e S c h u g e n s , S e c .^ D c c c m b c r 8, x88},,

x68 . B u f i d o . C .— W e h a v e n o w f i f r e c n m e m b e r s ; w c b e g a n w iih f i v e . W e a r e g o i n g t o t r y t o h a v e a n e n t e r t a in m e n t 10 ro is c m on ey

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o f o n r b e a u t i fu l F l o r id a b ir d s . S o m e o f u s h a v e m a d e w o o d s a spc* c ia l t y , O n c h a s a f in e l i t t le c o l l e c t io n o f sna iLs fr o tn th e w e « i ano s o u th , a n d t h e l.ast s e c t io n h a s u n d c r t a k e n l l i e s tu d y o í g eo log y^ an o e t h n o lo g y . W c a r e m a d e u p o f y o u n g .an d o í d m c m b c m , fro m ( " m d o w n l o e i g h t y e a r s o f a g e , a n d a m o n g a l l t h e In te r e s t i s “w e c a n in a n y w a y a s s is t a n y o f o u r s is t e r C h a p t e r s , w e sh a ll n eo e -

l i g h t e d 10 d o s o .— P a u l E , f e o l l ln s , S e c .

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I . M c r c h a n d i s c . 2 . S i a i i o n . D í s - g u i s e . 4 . A w h i p . 5 . T o w h i r l , 6 . G o m p a c t . 7 . R c d n c s s . 8 . T o r o u a c . . 9 . A b l e m i s h . 1 0 . A t r i b e . d y c i e .

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c a t ió n o f ; f r o m s t o 4 , ih e a l t é r n a le r i s in g a n d fa l l i n g o f w a i e r .

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( ’ I I A B A D E .

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CymbcUtie." T h e 3 6 * 2 5 - 3 4 i s p l a i n a s w a y l o p a r i s h d > u r c h . "" T h a t s p r i g h t l y S c o t o f S c o l s , 9 - 4 8 - 2 3 * 1 - 1 7 - 3 6 * 1 0 , i h c t r u n s 0 “

h o r s e b a c k u p a h i l l p e r p e n d i c u l a r . ”" F a i r l a d y 2 8 - 1 6 - 5 * 5 1 * 3 5 - 3 0 - 4 , p i c a s e y o u , s a v e t l i e ib a n k s

t h i s p r i n c e e x p e c l s . ”" T h e d u l l T 9 - 4 2 - 2 4 w i l l n o t m e n d h i b p a c e w i t h b c a P n g ." H e a v e n t a k e i n y .s o u l , a n d 3 8 - 3 3 - 1 4 - 2 1 * 1 1 - 6 - 4 9 k c c p m y b o n e s !“ 5 2 . 1 5 . 4 5 . 4 0 h M h , m y l o r d , a w a l l c l a t h i s b a c k , w h c r e í n h e p u t s

a l m s f o r o b l i v i o n . ”" D o y o u s e e y o n d e r 4 3 - 7 - 4 4 - 5 0 - 1 3 t h a t ’ s a l m o s t i n s l i a p c o f . a

c a m e l ? ” , . , , , , ." I t i s t h e g r e e n * e y ’ d 2 2 * 2 * i 2 - 3 7 - 4 7 - 3 3 * 4 X , w h i c h d o t h m o c k i n e

m e a t Í t f c e d s o n . "" B e n o t l o o 2 r * 8 * 3 x - 4 6 n e i t h e r , b u t l e t y o u r o w n d i s c r e t i o n b e

y o u r t u t o r . ”" O ! f c a r h i m n o t ; h i s 1 8 * 3 9 - 3 7 - s - f o i n t h a t i s o u t . c , s , C -


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fe n i lc m a n t o ld u s a b o u i t f i e m in a v e r y in t e r e s t in g m a n n e r . W e a v e b e e n h a v i n g k e e n a r c ü c w e a th e r .

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I , S y n c o p a l e m e a s u re s , a n d l e a v e l a r g e b o le s , a . S y n c ó p a t e a v is ió n , a n d l e a v e a m e a s u r c . 3. S y n c o p a t e o f a v e r y d a r k h u c , a n d l e a v e a n a t ic t io n . 4 . S y n c o p a t e a p a r t o f t h e b o d y , a n d le a v e a n in s e c t . 5 . S y n c o p a t e p e r i a in t n g to a d u k e a n d le a v e d o u b le . 6. S y n c o p a t e th e s u p p o s e d m a t t e r a b o v e th e a i r , a n d l e a v e fe u r - f i f th s o f t h e ñ a m e o f a s o v e r e í g n c a l le d " t h e G r e a t . ” 7. S y n c o p a t e

i w e n t y - t w o y a r d s , a n d le a v e p a r í 0 / tb c m e e . 8 . S y n c o p a le per- t a in in c co a fo o c , a n d J e a v c a lo u d s o u n d . 9 . S y n c o p a t e fascc iua .ad le a v e c o m m a n d s . 10. S y n c o p a t e a c o m m o n á r d e le o f fooci a n d J c a v c a k in d o f n a il. n . S y n c o p a l e o n e w h o s ic e p s , dhJ l e a v e o n e w h o p c r fo r m s . t s . S y n c o p a t e th ín , a o d le a v e th e cap . i t a l o f A u s t r i a a s ch e A u s i r i a n s s p e l l i t . 13, S y n c o p a t e a c o u n ir y o f E u r o p e , a n d l e a v e t o c w lr l. 14. S y n c o p a t e c o n v e y a n c e s , and l e a v e d o m e s d c a n im a ls , o u o k g e s . h a \ 'T E r

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lin e .

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I I . O n w a r d w e m a r c h e d . B e h in d u sA f r e n z ie d in o b , w h o r a v c d a n d ***■ *** ,A s i f t h e y k n e w w h e r e in w e * * * • * .T h e w a r l i k e t r o o p s u n in o v e d • • • ' ,A s B o n a p a n e h is l e g i ó n s * * * ,M y t r u s t y a ld * d c * c a m p w a s * * ,W Í i o s e h o m e w a s n e a r t h e * , h e s a id . w. a . 11.

ANA<4UAM S.

I n e a c h o f t h e f o l l o w i n g p r o b le m s a d e f ín í t i o n o f th e o r ig in a l w o t ^ f o l l o w s im m e d ia t e ly t h e a n a g r a m m a d e w í t h i t s Ic t t e iz .

t . 1 r o a s t n o c l n m ; p e r t a in in g t o h e a v c n l y b o d ie s . 2, ' T i « a ll

b a d : a s ín g c r o r w r i t e r o f n a r r a ú v e s o n g s . 3 . A c a r v a n ; an E a s tc r n c o n v c y a n c c . 4 . L . g e t a d e e d ; c o m m is s ío n c d . 5. A p u r e

o n c : a n in h a b í ta n L o f E u r o p e , 6 , C a n ’ t I f a s t ? g r o t c s q u e ,F . S JN O LF-TO N ,

D I A M O X I » .

x . I n H e r c u le s . 2. C o n d u c t e d - 3. V e r y o p e n a n d d eh c u e fe b r ic s . 4 , W o r l d l y . 5 , T h e t o w n ín H o l l a n d Ín w h íc h W ÍHinrn, P r i n c e o f O r a n g e , w a s a s s a s s ln a t e d in 1584. 6 . W a s s ea te d . 7.I n H e r c u le s , " r o i u n hood '*

D O U H E E A C I C O W T J C .

M v p r im á is n a m c a n E n g l i s h c o l n ; m y f in á is fo r m a w o r d m w n . i n g im p e r ia l . P r im á i s a n d f in á is t o g e t h e r ñ a m e a n a r o m a c lc hcrb.

t^ R O S S *w o w D S : I . T o e m it . s . A s o u n d r e v e r b e r a te d . 3. A doct o f s h ip s . 4 . A g i r l ' . s ñ a m e . 5. A s m a ll s h ip ’ s * b o a i. c y r i l d b .a n )

T w o H o l i d a y P u z z l e s .F i r s t P u z z l e . B l o w , b u g l e s o f b a t t lc , t h e m a r c h e s o f p e a c e ;

E a s t , w e « , n o r th , a n d s o u th , l e i th e l o n g q u a r r c l c e a s e :

S i n g c h e s o n g o f g r e a t j o y th a t t h e a n g c ls b e g a n , S i n g o f s l o r y l o G o d a n d o f g o o d w i l l 10 m a n !

" A C h r U t in a s C a r m e n , " b y J . G , W h i t ü e r , S e c o n d P u z z l e . Z i g z a g , S a n ta C la u s . C r o s s * w o r d s : i , S a i l .

2 . F A n s . ^ R i N d . 4 . C o l T . 5 . C l A m . 6. A C r e , 7. L a s t . 8, < J A k c . o , D r U m . 10. S u m S .

P i . C h i l l a ir .» a n d w í n t r y w in d s f M y e a r H a s g r o w n f a m i l ia r w i t h y o u r s o n g ;

I h e a r tr In t h e o p e n in g y e a r ,I l is t e n a n d i t c h e e r s m e lo n g .

" W o o d s in W i n t e r , ' ' b y H . W . L o n g fc U o w , E a s v B K itK A D tN G » . In l t ía l s o f th e b e h e a d c d w o r d s , L o w e l l .

C r o s s - w o r d s : i . s - L o w , 2. p - O r e . 3 . s - W in g . 4 . p * E a t . 5.p - L u m p , 6 , f - I . in t ,

A N S W E R S T O P U Z Z L E S I N T H E J A N U A R Y N U M B E R .

R i M L C S S W i i B E L , F r o m i t o 8 , Y u l e t i d e ; f r o m 1 l o 9, Y a w n ;f r o m 2 t o 9 , U p o n ; f r o m 3 to 9 , L a w n : f r o m 4 t o 9 , E b o n : fn m i 5 t o 9 , T e r n ; f r o m 6 t o 9 , I r o n ; f r o m 7 10 9 , D e a n : f r o m 8 lo y,

E v e n . _G e o c .r a f h i c a l H o u r -G l a s s . C c n tr .a ls , A f g h a m s c a n . C ross.

w o r d s : 1. S o u t h A m p t o n . 2, F a i r F i c ld . 3. B r u G g e n . 4. R a lli.a .5. P A n . 6 , N . 7 . W I s . 8 . P e S t h . 9. S a n u F é . 10. B a rbA d i>cs

T x . A u s i e N v iU e .C e n t r a l S y n c o p a t i o n s , % n c o p a l c d le t te r s , S i . N ic h o la »

C r o s s - w o r d s : x . B e * S - e t . 2, Ü c * T - c r . 3. R i - N - s e , 4, P a -b n c .5 . S c - C - t s . 6 . A c * H . c s , 7 S t*0 *o p . 8. P l - L - e s . 9 . S p -A .m .

10. P o - S - t s . C h a k a d e . H o u r * g la s 8 -N ü m e w c a l E n i g m a .

C o m e , y e c o id w in d s , a t J a n u a r y ’ s c a l i ,O n w h i s t l i n g w in g s , a n d w í t h w h i l e f la k c s bc*slrew T h e e a r lh . ” T h e M o n t h s ," b y J o h n R u »k in .

M a g i c S q u a r e , R e a d i n g a c r o s s : f i r » t U n e , 9 -4*4- 4 ! s e c o n d line,6 .5 .7 .3 ; t h i r d U n e , 4 * 8 * i - 8 ; f o u r th l in e , 2 -4-9 -^ .

T h k ñ a m e s o f ih o s o w h o s e n d S o l u t i o n s n rc p i in t e d in t h e s e c o n d n u m b e r a f t e r t h a t in w h ic h t h e p u z z le s a p p e a r . A n s w e r .s sh o u ld he a t id r c s s c d to S r . N i c h o l a s “ R i d d ) e - b o x , " c a r e o f T h e C e n t u s , C o . , 33 E a s t S e v e n t e e n ih S tr e e t , N e w Y o r l t C i l y . _

A n s w e b s t o A i . i . T H E P i ' z z t . E S IN T H E N o v E M B E B N c M U E R w e r e r e c e i v e ,— “ S is t e m T w a i n F . a n d H . D a v i s — P . S . C la r k s o n — S - R - T . — J e n n y H r o o k s -O w d c r , J r . ’ ’— S . I . H a l l a n d D o r a W c n d e l — ü e r t i e a n d L o u — S a i d i e a n d M a i — J e n . . . . . . - • - ........ „ . ,A n n t J u l ia , a n d W i n d s o r " - T h e S t e w a r t B r o w n s - C . L M - - ' ‘ W a l n u c ’ ’ - A n a n A m o l d - P r o f e s s o r S h r e w s b u r y - O r a c i e an^ü M G r c c n c — F r c d T h w a i t s — “ P a r i n e r s “ P a , M a , a n d I ’ ’— M a m ie H i i c h c o c k — W a l t e r A n g e l í — J e n n i e K . — T w o S i ib s c n b c i ■‘ D n d c ’ ’— C . S . C . — H u g h a n d C i s — C h a r le s H . K y i e — M a d e l e in e V u l t e o — P in m o a n d J a c k — M i n n i e B . M u i x a y — P a p a a n d on s ic

F r a n c is W . I s l i p — C la r a J . C h i ld — L i l y a n d A g n e s . ,

A n s i v e r s t o P c'Z Z L E S i n T H E N o v e m d é r N i r M R E R w e r e r e c e i v e d , b e f o r e N o v e m b e r 2 0 , f r o m F r a n k I - K e l l n e r , ‘.M c H r i d e , a - H . J . H . , a - J . M a u d z B u j b c e , o — G e r i r u d e C o s g r a v c , 5 — G . I b , J r . , i - J o s e p h C . R u s s , J r . , a - P i o f e M o r a n o l o . ,

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