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PARLEY'S MAGAZINE, WOODWORTH'S CABINET,
AND
THE SCHOOLFELLOW.
THE
CONSOLIDATED MAGAZINE FOR BOYS AND GIRLS.
EDITED BY
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VOLUME XXXV.
Si to
o*
J. N. STEARNS & CO., PUBLISHERS,
116 NASSAU STREET.
1858.
.MUSEUM AND CABINET.
OLD '57 AND YOUNG '58.
THE trees are stripped mere skele-
*- tons while the ground is dressed in
a pure white garb of glittering snow.
Silence is around ; the good old man in
tage for his coming, and the kissing of
the little cheeks and the patting of the
little curly heads around the fire, while
he gives kind wishes, and his pocket
VTIXTEK.
the picture is thoughtful as he returns
from his walk he muses on his own
decay then he thinks of his little
grandchildren waiting within the cot-
yields what they love, and they and
little dog Frisk caper about till it is
anything but silent around mamma's
knee. Looking at the pretty picture,
OLD '57 AND YOUNG '58.
and musing of decay and reviving, the
hours slipped away, till it became mid-
night December 31st, when I fell into
A KIND OF A DEEAM,
in which the New Year appears, as
young Master '58, a lona fide person.
He opens his eyes, and I half think
he would stretch forth his boy hand
and grasp the coat-tail of old and de-
crepit Mr. '57, and borrow his guide-
book, and put a few hasty questions
about the way, etc. ; but off slips '57,
and nothing remains but for '58 to get
along as best he may.
I look at him, as he has not one in-
stant to rub his eyes, to brush up and
make ready, but he must go go and
I wonder to myself if he is entirely
ignorant of the journey before him
unceasing, unresting, till the end
when he must die, and pass away, at
least from this earth.
I wonder if the travel around the
great, glorious sun, in which he must
(there is no dodging, no escaping for
him) accompany the earth from Aries
to Pisces, looks like a toil or a de-
light.
Has he any fears of dangerous con-
tact by the globe he accompanies with
any of the myriads around ; or dots he
feel strong, and ready for any thing
that may be on the way ?
Does he think most of what he shall
see and learn, and of course enjoy ; or,
is he thinking mostly of what he shall
accomplish ?
Does he know of .the immense weal
and woe he bears in his satchel, and
which must all be distributed faithfully,
on his route ?
Has he any idea of what is a heart-
ache, of which he bears so many for
distribution? Does he know what is
a lively joy, of which, alas ! he bears
fewer than of its opposite ?
Does he say to himself, Would that I
could let these griefs remain in dark-
ness to molder in harmlessness? Is
he a lively youth, and what thinks he
as he hears, " I wish you a happy New
Year," on the lips of young and old of
earth?
I have some thought that he may
not be very respectful to Mr. '57, but
ready to give him a hurrying push,
that he may have all to himself I was
going to say, step into his shoes but
such unceasing travel, day and night,
would not leave much in the sandal
line to step into besides, New Year
must be newly clad, and above all
things have new shoes, even if they are
only snow-shoes.
Poor fellow, I say I am really sorry
for him and I should not blame him
if he wished it all well over. I do not
see how he can get up a smile with
such a weight of unceasing labor ; he
must be ready to burst into tears when-
ever he is called upon to say, " Thank
you," to any good wishes offered a
very, very sober youth, and this is
ever a painful sight but no, I am
wrong, he needs not of necessity to be
so very sober.
It is just here he has only to do, all
the time, his duty ; and that is never,
for real or imaginary persons, MOKE
than they can do. He has only to go
on steadily, regularly doing, in he
right spirit, and he will meet no hurt-
ful clashing, no unwholesome fatigue,
but he will meet much io make the
pathway pleasant, by keeping an eye
willing to see, and disposed to be
pleased ; and then not too soon, and not
too late, will the end and the rest
come. Keep such an eye without,
and such a disposition within, young
friends, and you will be very likely to
have what I sincerely wish you a
Happy New Year. L. E.
THE CHRISTMAS TREE.
And, stranger yet,
Here's a bon-bon, set
On the same identical stem
"With two plums, so big
That a neighboring fig
Seems lost in the shadow of them-
And here, what's this?
As I live, 'tis a kiss,
And just where a kiss should be ;
A tulip, full blown,
Hard by it is shown
Indeed, 'tis a wonderful tree.
Here, bravo ! I've found
MEEBT'S MUSEUM, bound
This must be the Tree of Knowl-
THE CHRISTMAS TREE.
THE Christmas tree !
The Christmas tree !
gather around it now ;
Its fruits are free
For you and for me,
And they hang from every bough.
Its flowers are bright,
And they grew in a night,
For yesterday it was bare ;
Did ever you see
An evergreen-tree
So fruitful and so fair !
Look ! here is a rose !
And who would suppose
An orange and a pear
Would grow by the side
Of the garden's pride ?
But here, you see, they are.
Besides which, behold !
All lettered in gold,
A poem fresh out from the col-
lege.
Hold ! hold ! my good sirs,
Here's a nice set of furs
'Tis a fir-tree, you all nlust agree ;
And here, not in cog,
Is a sweet sugar-hog
Does that make a mahogany-tree ?
Oh! who would have guessed?
Here's a nice little chest,
Of course 'tis a chestnut-tree;
Not so fast, cousin Knox,
Here's a beautiful box
A box-tree it surely must be.
Your proof something lacks
For here is an ax^
You must own 'tis an" axle-tree now ;
Hallo ! here's a whip,
For your horsemanship
'Tis a whipple-tree,then, you'll allow.
What now shall be said ?
Here are needles and thread
Let's see shall we call it tre-
mend(o)us ?
Oh, pshaw ! pray do stop,
I'm ready to drop
Your puns are absurdly stupendous.
CARL; OK, A STOKY WITHOUT AN END.
GAEL;
OH, A STORY WITHOUT AN END.
CHAPTER III.
He had
hill and
careless
tired, he threw
3 1ST a few days Carl
had another adven-
ture, not quite so
pleasant as the last,
been roaming over
valley in his usual
manner, till, quite
himself down on a
mossy bank, and calling Carlo to lie
by his side, prepared for a quiet nap.
He never stopped to think that' he
had wandered far from home, and
that it was already late in the after-
noon, but only said. to himself, "I am
very tired, so Carlo
and I must have a
little rest,"
Carlo, as usual, was
wiser than his mas-
ter ; he knew it would
not do to linger very
long so far from his
home ; so just as the
sun was setting, he
said to Carl, as plainly
as if he could speak :
" Carl, Carl, you must
get right up and come home." Carlo's
way of saying this, was to lick his
young master's face till he opened his
eyes, and then pull earnestly at his
coat sleeve. Carl understood very
well ; he soon jumped up, patting Car-
lo's head, and saying, "Old fellow,
you won't let me have any peace now ;
you're afraid I shall not be home to
tea, are you ?" Carlo wagged his tail,
as much as to say, " You understand
me very well, Master Carl," and then
bounded off toward home.
It was a long, weary way, however,
and the twilight was short; but the
moon rose early, and by its light, Carl
felt no fear that he should lose the
path. Once, Carlo stopped suddenly
just as they were coining out of a thick
grove; Carl stopped too, and looked
round ; he knew that Carlo was a good
guide, and had some wise reason for
what he did. Just before them, in the
clear moonlight that lay on the open
fields, stalked a large wolf.
"Ah, master wolf,"
whispered Carl, "you
are a fine fellow to be
prowling around at
this time in the even-
ing; I wish I had a
gun, because then I'd
try to shoot you."
In a few moments
the wolf was out of
sight ; Carlo bounded
forward, and Carl fol-
!? lowed. Suddenly Carl
heard a loud hooting from a tree near
him. " Stop, Carlo," he cried, " I hear
an owl, and I must find him."
Carlo stopped, but he seemed very
impatient. The hooting ceased for a
moment-, as if the owl was afraid to
make his retreat known ; then, as Carl
was very still, the horrid scream was
repeated, and an answer came from
the neighboring grove; then a great
bird flew slowly and heavily toward
CAKL , OR, A STORY WITHOUT AN END.
the tree, and Carl, guided by its flight,
saw him perch hy the side of his mate
on one of the largest boughs. Their
great eyes glared like cat's eyes through
the green leaves.
" I'd rather shoot
you than the wolf,"
cried Carl, as he turn-
ed away; "I hate to
think of all the pretty
birds you will catch
and eat to-night. That's
the way you live so
grandpa says."
Carlo would not let
his young master stay
one moment longer,
but by barking, run-
ning forward, and pull-
ing him along, told him
very plainly that it was
quite time for him to
be going.
"I believe I'll ask
grandpa all about those
owls," said Carl, as he
hurried on ; " he can
tell me."
Over fences, through
fields, then into the
woods again, then out
into the highway, Car-
lo led, and Carl follow-
ed, thinking that home
was a long way off, and he would be
careful how he wandered so far again.
Meanwhile all was commotion at
home ; Katrine had been several times
to the door, calling Carl, but no Carl
answered. Still she thought to her-
self, " If Carl is a foolish boy, Carlo is
a wise dog. I think they will come
home safely."
But at last the moon rose, and noth-
ing was heard of Carl. Old Mr. Bed-
enken began to feel uneasy ; Carl had
never staid out so late. He told Kat-
rine that he would go out and find his
grandson. " Oh, no, sir," cried Kat-
rine ; "let Peter and Hans go ; he surely
is safe with Carlo ; besides, your tea is
all cooling now 'tis an hour since I
THE OWL.
brought it in." "Never mind, never
mind, good Katrine, said the old gen-
tleman, " I can never take my tea with-
out my little Carl."
" Then let me send Peter and Hans,"
said Katrine ; and while she went to
call the men, Mr. Bedenken stood by
his window, and looked down toward
the highway.
Just then, Carl had caught sight of
the old house, standing out clearly in
the moonlight. He had wandered so
far, that he was more happy to see it
CAKL : OR, A STOKY WITHOUT AN END.
than ever before. The fire-light glow-
ed brightly through the windows of
his grandfather's library, and he began
to run, as he thought of the pleasant
" That is the common horned owl,
Carl ; he lives on other birds, and
catches them at night when they are
asleep, and can not see him. Some-
room and warm tea waiting for him. i times, however, he prowls about too
GAEL'S CASTLE AT BKDENKEN.
Hans and Peter were hardly ready
to set out, when they heard their mas-
ter call loudly for Katrine, and in a
moment she came out to tell them that
it was of no use for them to go to-night
to look for Master Carl, for he was
coming over the lawn now.
When Carl was once more seated in
his corner of the great sofa, he told his
grandpa what an idle day he had spent,
and how far he had gone without know-
ing it ; and then he asked. him to tell
something about the owls that he saw
on his way home.
" I can show you several specimens
of owls," said his grandpa, "and per-
haps you can tell me which one the
owl you saw was like."
Then he unlocked one of the many
doors which had often excited Carl's
wonder, and showed him a large case
of stuffed birds.
"Here are my owls, Carl," he said;
" which is like your friend ?"
"That one," said Carl, "with the
funny little feathers, like horns, stand-
ing up on his head ; but he is not my
friend he is a hateful bird."
late, and is caught by the daylight.
Then the birds pay him for his depre-
dations ; they tease and vex him, peck
at him and annoy him, as long as the
light, by which he is dazzled, lasts."
" And what does he do ?" asked
Carl.
"He throws his head on one side
and then on the other, and rolls his
great eyes about, wholly helpless."
" Well, I'm glad he gets paid some-
times," said Carl. "I should like to
see one lost by daylight, and teased by
little birds."
" Owls are afraid of men," said his
grandpa; "they will not live in con-
finement, and have never been tamed,
I believe."
"Oh!" said Carl, "I should not
suppose any one would wish to tame
such ugly creatures."
"Why not, my boy," replied the
old philosopher, " as well as a tiger, a
vulture, a boa-constrictor, and a great
many other very ugly creatures, which
have been carried about in cages, that
we, who can not see them in a natural
state, may know how they look ?"
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
LITTLE BED
EVERYBODY has read the story of
this wonderful child. Of all the chil-
dren of romance, she is perhaps the
greatest favorite with very young read-
ers. Can any one tell who wrote the
story, and what gave rise to it?
Little Red Riding Hood was a very
good -girl. She was kind to every one,
RIDING HOOD.
and loved everything. She was very
kind to her old grandmother. She
was willing to do anything for her
father and mother. She was kind to-
the wasp, and to the torn-tit, and to
the poor old woman whom she found
seeking for water-cresses. She was
even kind to the wolf, who, while men
10
AWAY, AWAY TO SCHOOL.
were near to protect
her, appeared very amia-
ble. But she was very
weak and siHy in believ-
ing what the wolf said,
and holding conversation
with him. And bitterly
the poor child paid for it.
She lost her good old
grandmother, and would
have lost her own life
too, had not the friends
which her kindness had
made for her been near at hand to save
her from the lying wolf.
Good children must beware of bad
company. " Evil communications cor-
rupt good manners," says the Bible,
and flatterers are never true friends.
They can not be safely trusted. You
may be kind to everybody, even to the
wicked, and to those who injure you.
You can forgive them, and do them
all the good you can. But you need
not believe what they say, nor suffer
yourself to be led astray by them.
AWAY, AWAY TO SCHOOL.
HAEK ! the bell is ringing ringing
Away, away to school ;
Always prompt and always early,
Is the scholar's rule.
Pick up your marbles and your ball,
Put all your toys away
Let us be prompt to duty's call,
As we are prompt to play.
Playing is good to make us strong,
Our limbs to exercise ;
But playing always would be wrong,
As well as most unwise.
I love my books as well as my
play,
I will not be a fool ;
The bell is ringing ringing ringing
Away, away to school.
When school is out, we'll be about,
All brisk and bright for play ;
We'll jump and run, and have good
fun,
As happy children may.
COMINO FKOM SCHOOL.
THE ELVES OF THE FOREST CENTRE.
11
THE ELVES OF THE FOREST CENTRE.
HERE lived a little
girl, named Maia,
with her mother,
in a deep forest. As
they had always dwelt in the
, . same lone spot, the child had
u become accustomed to the
solitude of the surrounding woods, and
even loved the old trees that towered
above her head.
So she was not surprised when, one
bright morning, her mother said:
"Maia, take thy little basket, and go
to the forest centre, and fetch a few
fagots and some nuts."
Maia quickly put on her gipsy hat,
bade her mother good-bye, and tripped
away. She knew all the little birds
and squirrels; she did not fear even
the king of beasts, so gentle was he to
her. And oh ! when the young tigers
leaped forth to meet her, she could not
help setting her basket down, to take
a nice tumble upon the soft moss.
Then the old tiger and tigress came
home, bringing four little lions to
spend the day. So they carried Maia
on their backs by turn, until they
reached the forest centre, then, wag-
ging their tails, they left her, all
alone.
Hark! a rustling among the dry
branches only the wind or a squirrel
in its nest Maia began to fill her
basket from a store of nuts, hidden in
a hollow stump, and to tie up her
fagots, for she must hasten ; but soon
she dropped her basket, the fagots
were forgotten, for there, before her,
were the little Elves of the forest;
yes, the dear funny little Elves, whose
history her mother had so often told
her.
A little Elfin maid stole to her side,
to see what she might be, and Maia
was half tempted to seize the tiny
creature, but something bade her not,
so she only said: "Oh, how beautiful
thou art ! " At this the little Elf dart-
ed away, but soon returned to say:
"Our king desires thee to come and
feast with us, oh ! great giantess ! "
Maia, quite bewildered, followed the
little maid, and soon found herself in
the presence of the Elfin king, a tiny
fellow, about as tall as her hand, and
dressed in a robe of crimson velvet,
spangled with diamonds. As she be-
gan to blush and courtesy, he said:
" Maia, thou art a good child ; we have
watched thee, day by day; all the
beasts of the forest love thee. They
say, ' So kind and gentle is little Maia,
that we would not harm her.' We,
too, love, and will befriend, thee."
He paused, and a little Elf came
forth to dance. "When the dance was
finished, Maia sang a song about the
Elves, which pleased the king very
much ; thfito all sat down to the ban-
quet, which was composed of the most
delicate food ever known. When all
were done feasting, the Elves sang
another song, after which Maia was
again called by the king: "Here," he
said, leading forward the Elfin maid
whom she had before met, "here is a
little one for thee ; guard her well, and
she will be a faithful friend."
"How can I repay thy kindness?"
12
PRACTICE AT THE BAR." THE WARNING BELL.
cried Maia ; but before she could say
more, she found herself in a beautiful
little carriage, drawn by twelve robins,
and at her side sat the maiden Elfletta,
given her by the king. Soon she ar-
rived at home, where she had long
been expected ; but where was the
basket of nuts? where the fagots?
Elfletta soon answered that question,
by pointing to another Elf, who was
seen in the distance, bringing them,
and many other nice things.
But this good fortune did not make
Maia forget her duties, and I am sure
she set a good example for Elfletta, by
rising early, and cheerfully performing
her labors. At the forest centre the
Elves were always glad to see her, and
the tigers always glad to carry her
there.
When she grew older, the little Elfin
maid found a little Elfin man, and, as
they loved each other, they were mar-
ried. Then Maia's good old mother
died, blessing the dear daughter who
had been a comfort to her in all her
trials. And when Maia found grey
hairs among her own dark tresses
when her hand failed, and she grew
old and feeble, there had sprung up
around her a little family of Elves
then did they befriend her, and she
loved them more than ever.
Her eyes grew dim, she lay down
to rest, and with her last breath bless-
ed the little Elves. Upon the bed lay
a cold form, with a calm smile upon
the face; the heart did not beat, the
eyes were fixed, the old woman was
at rest, but was she there? No; in the
sky were a host of angels they bore
the soul of Main to its heavenly home.
PANSY.
KINDNESS, gentleness, and industry
will seldom have an enemy, or want a
friend.
"PKACTICE AT THE BAE."
WHOEVER stoppeth at the lar of
'* him who &or-ters distilled Par-
ley, drawn from a Jar-rel, bar-s him-
self from ever advancing at the tar
of life. He will live like a bar-lar-
ian an outcast from civilized society
and his memory will be to him as a
Jar-bed arrow, when he thinks of the
bad Jar-gains he made when under
the influence of tar-m. His &ar-k
will founder on the sand-Jar-s in the
stream of life, and his life will be bar-
ren of any good, in consequence of the
Jor-rier he has placed between him-
self and the world, and no 5<zr-d will
chant a ~bar at his de-Jar-king.
BUCKEYE BOY.
THE WARNING BELL.
IN every youthful breast doth dwell
A little tingling, jingling bell,
"Which rings if we do ill, or well.
And when we put bad thoughts to
flight,
And choose to do the good and right,
It sings a psean of delight.
But if we choose to do the wrong,
And 'gainst the weak strive with the
strong,
It tolls a solemn, saddened song.
And should we on some darksome day,
"When hope lights not the cheerless
way,
Far from the path of duty stray,
'Twill, with its tones serene and clear,
Of warning in the spirit's ear,
Our slow returning footsteps cheer.
And always in the worldly mart,
"With its sweet song it cheers each heart,
To do with energy their part.
Then let us strive with main and might
To shun the wrong and do the right,
And the bell's warning song ne'er slight.
CONSCIENCE.
" COUNTING OUT."
13
"WHEN" I was a boy ah! woful
' ' "when!" and we were playing
"hide-and-seek," or other such games,
it was our way to determine the seek*
hy " counting out." " That's the way
we do," do you say, Rosy-face ? Well, I
suppose you do ; and I suppose, second-
ly, that you use pretty much the same
formulas there's a big word for you
(get Master Richard, who goes to college
this fall, to explain it to you) as we did.
COUNTING OUT/'
Come ! Let's see ! Do you know the
" onery, twoery ?" We'll have it all in
print, and then we can tell if the old
formula there it comes again, Master
Richard has altered in its peculi arities.
"Onery, twoery, tickery, seven;
Allibo, crackibo, ten or eleven ;
Pin, pan,
Musquedam,
Tweedledum, twaddledum, twenty-
one."
COUNTING OUT.
How funny it looks printed ! And
is this the way you say it, Rosy -face,
to your waiting school-fellows, all
standing in a row ?
Now, I'll try you with another, if I
can make out to spell it ; for I never
tried before to put those familiar
sounds into properly spelled words and
syllables :
"Ayna, mayna, mona, my;
Bassa-lona, bona, stry;
Hayar, wayar, frow-nac;
Araca, waraca, wee, ><?, WAG!"
And here's another for you :
"Onery, uery, ickery, Ann;
Phillisy, pholosy, Nicholas, John ;
Queeby, quawby,
Virgin Mary,
Stickilum, stackilum, 'buck!"
Of course you know this one :
"Eggs, butter, cheese, bread,
Stick, stack, stone-dead!"
For I've heard you say it some of
you. And there are plenty of others ;
but I'm going to give you a new one :
"Martin Swart and his merry men;
Alumbeck, sodledum, syllerum, Ben."
How do you like that ? It's as old
as Queen Elizabeth ; and when did she
live, Master Eichard ?
One day, a long while ago but it
seems only two or three yesterdays
since to me I ran into mother. She
had a treasury of riddles and old songs,
and all such things that children love,
and I asked her to "give me some-
thing new to count out with;" and I
could hardly believe her, when she
said that she'd told me all she knew.
But she said she guessed she could
"make up" something, or remember
something she had read ; so she stitch-
ed away on the hole she was darning
in my plaid trowsers the "first pair I
ever wore with suspenders; I don't
believe I shall ever forget tliem ! and
presently she looked up, with a smile,
and gave me this :
" Abal-libooz-obang-annor-ribo."
I couldn't say it "right off," easily;
and I don't think you can, Kosy-face.
You'll have to do as I did : take your
slate and write it off half a dozen
times, and then you won't remember
it, just as I didn't. But I learned it in
time for the next Saturday afternoon,
and then how I puzzled the boys!
They couldn't one of them learn to say
it correctly.-
Ah! old Bald-pate! (that's me; I'm
talking to myself.) Don't you remem-
ber those Saturday afternoons? "We
"counted out" under the shade of a
big button-ball tree, and then played
"I spy" around the old school-house.
You know how we played that game,
Rosy -face; I guess you know very
much the same games that we played.
" Mumble-the-peg" do you know
that? And " coach- whip ?" And
"two-old-cat?" Yes; I'm sure you
know them all, and more, too.
Don't you wish you wore a man,
sometimes ? I used to ; and now I
wish I were a boy, and could play " I
spy" with my old mates around the
old school-house. But those days
have gone, as the poet says :
" Down the back-entry of time."
And I must go to work again.
Good-bye, Rosy-face ! UNCLE T.
THK night is mother of the day,
The winter of the spring ;
And ever upon old decay,
The greenest mosses cling.
Behind the cloud the starlight lurks,
Through showers the sunbeams fall ;
For God, who loveth all his works,
Has left his hope with all.
THE GROTTO OF JASON.
15
THE GKOTTO OF JASON.
THE Grotto of Jason, though not
-* named as one of " the seven wonders
of the world," is one of the most inter-
esting and remarkable of the natural
curiosities belonging to that part of the
world which was known to the an-
cients. It is situated on the southern
slope of the Caucasian Mountains, near
the city of Kutais, in the Province of
Imeritia, at the eastern extremity of
the Black Sea. This region corre-
sponds nearly with the ancient Colchis.
To this point was directed the famous
Argonautic Expedition, which, our
young friends will remember, was one
of the earliest naval adventures record-
ed in history. The story of this ex-
pedition is so mixed up with mythol-
ogy, romance, and fable, that it is dif-
ficult to reduce it to anything like a
credible narrative. Jason was the
leader of the expedition. In these
days, we should call him an admiral or
a commodore, perhaps a buccaneer or
a filibuster. The object of his search
was the " Golden Fleece" of Colchis,
which he obtained and carried off.
Whether he discovered and explored
this grotto, we do not know, but its
name is evidently derived from him.
Who will volunteer to visit the place,
and give us a full description of its
wonders ? Is there not a Bayard Tay-
lor or a Ledyard in our large family ?
1C
UNCLE HI HAM'S PILGRIMAGE.
UNCLE HIKAM. AMONG THE ANIMALS.
UNCLE HIRAM'S PILGRIMAGE.
Elsie. Oh, Uncle! Uncle! how long
we have been waiting for you to tell
us more of the Museum, and of all the
wonderful things that are there !
I fear you will not find any other
part as interesting and curious, as that
which contained the Aquaria.
Elsie. Perhaps not, Uncle. I never
heard anything more curious or
beautiful, and I mean to have an
aquarium of my own, by-and-by.
Fanny, Harry, and all the
rest. And so do I, and so do I,
and so do I.
Frank. And soon we can go
fishing in our own parlors, with-
out any danger of wetting our
feet, or freezing our fingers.
Well, Frank, I will join you,
some stormy day, and try tho
fun of fishing in a glass vase,
while seated in a rocking-chair,
with Hannah playing on the
piano, or reading some luxurious
book. But, we will now to the
Museum, for we have much to see
there yet, before I can proceed with
my Pilgrimage.
There are so many things to be seen
here, that I hardly know where to be-
gin. But, as it is the holiday season,
and all the young folks are full of Mer-
ry Christmas and Happy New Year,
I will take you, first of all, to see
THE HAPPY FAMILY.
This is one of the most remarkable
UNCLE HIKAM 8 PILGRIMAGE.
exhibitions ever made since the Flood.
The scene in the Ark may have been
something like it ; but, as we are not
informed how the different animals
were disposed of there, we can not
say certainly. Here, in one large cage,
without any division, or any attempt
to keep them apart, are animals, birds,
insects, and reptiles, of opposite na-
tures, and such as have never been
known to meet, except as enemies, all
living together in perfect peace and
friendship. Here are dogs, cats, and
mice, lying down and sleeping, or
playing together. Here is a dove, or
a small bird, sitting quietly on the
back of a cat, or of a hawk. Here is
a bird hopping from coil to coil of a
sleeping serpent. A timid rabbit is
feeding side by side with a dog, or a
monkey. An owl sits on the same
perch with a parrot. A toad hops,
unmolested, among cats, rats, mice,
birds, and all the rest ; and a hen and
a guinea-pig keep company with an
ant-eater, and a Mexican hog.
Two or three cries at once. Why,
Uncle, are you not jesting? How can
these different creatures live together,
and not quarrel ?
I can not tell you how it was brought
about. I do not know what means
have been used to tame, and train
them. But so it is. They are there,
in perfect peace and quiet. I have
seen them, and watched them for a
long time, as they moved about, each
one as much at ease, as if alone in the
cage no one ever interfering with
another, or seeming to be annoyed by
anything that is done. The mouse
seems to have no more fear of the cat,
than of his fellow. The cat is ap-
parently as friendly with the mouse,
as with her own kitten.
Frank. Why, what a witch that
man must be !
SERIES. VOL. V. 2
Harry. Ha, ha, ha! not a witch,
Frank, but a wizard.
Frank. Well, wizard, or witch, I
don't care which; but I should like to
know how he does it.
That is a secret you will not find it
easy to discover, and, if you should
acquire it, it would not do you any
good. The greater part of the secret
is probably patience and perseverance.
A man who has anything else to do,
could not well do anything of this
kind. Besides, you are too indulgent
to your pets, and you would not like
to restrain, and deny, and punish them,
as much as would be necessary to sub-
due their nature, and change their
habits entirely. These animals live
together quietly, but they are not lively
and playful. The monkeys seem to re-
tain something of their love of fun,
THE PLATING MONKEY.
and of mischief. But yet, they do not
carry it so far as to annoy their com-
panions.
You would be very much amused, I
am sure, to see the " Happy Family."
Sometimes you will see them all up
and moving, flying, hopping, jumping,
but never interfering seriously with
each other ; mingling, in the strangest
groups you can imagine. Sometimes,
especially on a cold day, you will see
the greater part of them cuddled down
together in a corner, a pile, or lump
of life, made up of cats, rabbits,Guinea-
pigs, rats, monkeys, etc., etc., either
quietly asleep, or trying to keep each
18
UNCLE HIRAM 8 PILGRIMAGE.
other warm; while the rest of the
family are moving about, from perch to
perch, or occasionally crowding them-
selves into the mass of sleepers.
There is in the Museum a great
variety of the most curious birds and
animals, either living, or stuffed, and
looking like life, which will repay
anybody for a few hours of study. I
hope you will all have an opportunity
to see them. Among them are
The Leopard an animal of the cat
THE LEOPARD.
species. It is found in the tropical
regions of Asia and Africa. Its fur is
yellow, with ten or twelve ranges of
small black clusters of spots on each
flank.
The Ostrich a native of Africa
and Arabia, the largest of all birds,
being four feet from the ground to the
THE OSTRICH.
top of the back, and its head often as
high as ten feet is remarkable for
its swiftness in running, in which it is
aided by* wings, which are too small
for flying. Its plumage is elegant, and
much used in ornamental dress.
THE HORNED HOKSE.
The Gnu, or Horned Horse, belongs
to the ox tribe of ruminating animals,
and partakes of the form of the ox,
the horse, and the deer. It is found
in South Africa.
The Rhinoceros (nose-horn) belongs
to the same order of animals as the ele-
phant, distinguished as hoofed animals,
which do not ruminate, or chew the cud.
It is of the species Tapir. It is much
larger than the American tapir, and is
THE RHINOCEROS.
distinguished by a kind of horn on its
nose, composed of a solid fibrous sub-
stance, resembling a tuft of hairs glued
together. Some species have two
horns, one above the other. It is stu-
pid and ferocious, frequents marshy
places, and lives on grass and shrubs.
THE SEAL.
MIKE SMILEY.
19
MIKE SMILEY.
BY W. CUTTER.
" Such stuff are Yankees made of."
CHAPTER III.
/J
^
-<
,UK friend
Eugene
'Kalston be-
longed to one
of the most
respectable and
"$$ 'Hv "\ wealthy families
in New Eng-
land, and Mike,
as the preserver
1 of his life, was
the object of the regard and gratitude
of all his friends. He was immediately
placed at school, where he made such
rapid progress, as, in the course of a
few months, to shoot ahead of some
who had enjoyed the same privileges
from their earliest childhood. He per-
ceived, almost at a glance, that it was
not so much wealth, as a well-directed
intelligence, and a high moral estimate
of the true ends and aims of life, that
constituted the difference between the
state of society to which he was now
introduced, and that which he had
left. And he at once resolved that no
effort should be wanting, on his part,
to secure all the advantages which his
new situation afforded him. He there-
fore applied himself with a diligence
and zeal that could not have failed, even
with powers far inferior to his own, to
reap a large and rich reward. His
progress was rapid and easy ; so much
so, that a year had net passed before
Mr. Ralston perceived, that to carry
out his original design, of attaching
Mike to himself as a servant, would
;
be doing him great injustice. He not
only made himself acquainted with
every subject that was brought before
him, but he mastered it; as far, at
least, as he had means to do so. And
the attempt to hold him in a subordi-
nate situation could not have been long
successful, if it had been made.
It was as much to the credit of
Mike's heart, as his progress in learn-
ing was to that of his head, that, from
the very dawning of his better fortune,
he never lost sight of his parents, or
his native village. He denied himself
every indulgence for the pleasure of
contributing to the comfort of his mo-
ther. Many were the tokens of kind-
ness sent to her during the year ; and
they were always such as were best
adapted to her circumstances.
It was nearly two years from the
time that Mike left home, before he
was able to make his parents a visit.
And then, when his old friend Jim, the
stage-driver, drew up at the door of
his father's hut, instead of leaping out,
as he thought he should, and shouting
atf*the top of his voice, he buried his
face in his hands and burst into tears.
He had never realized, till that mo-
ment, the utter desolation of the home
of his youth the entire absence of all
that constitutes the comforts of life, in
the lot of his parents.
" Halloo, there, Mike, what are you
about?" said Jim, throwing down the
steps of the stage with a slam that
brought Mrs. Smiley to the door, to
20
MIKE SMILEY.
see what was the matter. In an in-
stant the tears were wiped away, and
Mike was in his mother's arms. Poor
woman ! she could hardly believe her
eyes. "Was it possible that this brave-
looking young man was her own Mike !
She put him from her a moment, and
examined him from head to foot, with-
out saying a word, and then, with all
a mother's heart, strained him to her
bosom, saying, " Mike, you are a good
boy, Mike, to remember your poor old
mother," and then burst into tears.
Jim wiped a drop from his eye, as he
mounted his box and drove off, saying
to himself " "Well, I have heard of peo-
ple crying for joy, but I never believed
it before."
It was a sad visit for poor Mike.
Every blessing that he had enjoyed
during the last two years, every com-
fort he possessed, was now remember-
ed only to aggravate the contrast be-
tween his own lot and that of his par-
ents. It made him perfectly miserable
to look about him ; for he felt that, as
yet, he had no power to eflect any sub-
stantial change in their condition. He
poured out the fullness of his heart to
his mother, who was so happy in the
good fortune of her boy, as never to
have thought that any material change
in her own lot could result from it.
"But what can I do, mother," said
Mike earnestly, "what can I do? I
must and will do something. It makes
me perfectly miserable to have so many
comforts, while you are so poor and
wretched. God helping me, it shall
not be."
Starting suddenly up, as he said this,
he was met by Giant Zeb, who tumbled
in at the door, just in time to hear the
last words.
" What's that that shall not be, and
who's that that says so?" stammered
the old man, with the peculiar tone and
accent, or rather, with the accentless
and toneless utterance of .an habitual
inebriate.
Mike was struck aback in a moment.
His cup was full he could not speak.
His father, tumbling stupidly into the
first chair he could reach, did not notice
him, and he stood a moment as in
doubt whether to speak, or to steal
away and weep alone. But the doubt
was instantly dissipated by the sharp
voice of his mother, screaming bitterly,
" "Why, Zeb, so drunk that you can't
see Mike?"
"Father," said Mike, extending his
hand, don't you know me?"
"Know you? let me see," replied
the old man, rousing himself up
"what! you, Mike? "Why, what a fine
gentleman! come, go down to Tim's,
and treat all round, by way of welcome
home. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Mike fine gen-
tleman plenty of money now let's
have another drink."
It was with much difficulty that the
old man was diverted from this thought.
He was too far gone to reason. After
some time Mike succeeded in coaxing
him to lie down on the bed, where he
soon fell into a deep sleep, and did not
awake till a late hour next morning.
Mike did not close his eyes that
night. He was in a perfect agony of
spirit. The whole truth had flashed
upon his mind in an instant, when the
giant frame of his father, reduced to
the feebleness of infancy, with scarcely
the instinct of a brute left to guide its
motions, tumbled in at the door of his
hut, and settled, rather than sat down,
in the broken chair by his side. He
wondered he had not seen it before.
Here was the whole secret of the pov-
erty and wretchedness about him
rum, rum, that was the fire that had
eaten out the substance and the souls
of all that desolate village, and con-
MIKE SMILEY.
sumed parents and children for many
generations. It was like a new reve-
lation to his mind. He had seen men
intoxicated a thousand times before.
He had seen gentlemen, as they were
called, carried home in a state of help-
lessness, from a dinner party, and from
the society of ladies who had furnished
the temptation, and plied it with all
the seductive arts of flattery which
woman has ever at command. He had
seen the children of par-
ents having some preten-
sions to respectability, em-
ployed to feed the fires
which were consuming
them and their substance,
buying and carrying home
the liquor which was to
transform that house into
a hell, and parental affec-
tion and gentleness to in-
sane fury. He remem-
bered one case, in partic-
ular, which had .deeply v,
affected him at the time, :
and often came up before
his troubled fancy. As he
was riding leisurely in a
quiet lane in the vicinity
of Boston, he was attract-
ed by two beautiful girls,
sitting on a bank by the
road-side, with a large jug
at their feet. They were
in sad yet earnest conver-
sation. He stopped, with-
out attracting their notice.
" Do you think we are doing right,
sister ?" asked the younger. " You
know how bad it makes pa feel, and
how cross he is to dear mother and the
baby. Is it right for us to get it for
him?"
" I don't know, sissy dear," was the
sad reply. " The Bible says, children
must obey their parents, and I am
afraid. I wish I really could know
what to do."
And then they wept, and then they
prayed for strength and wisdom, and
then went on their weary way, with
the burden that was far heavier on
their hearts than on their hands.
Mike had seen many such things, and
felt them, but had not, till now, realized
the magnitude of the evil. It was a
national epidemic ; and no eye had yet
X. CASE OF CONSCIENCE.
been opened to measure, and no voice
raised to deprecate its fearful ravages,
though myriads of hearts had been
made desolate by it, though widows
and orphans had perished by millions
in its path, and the alms-houses and
the graveyards of the country were
teeming with its annually-increasing
multitudes of victims.
THE SONO OF THE SNOW-BIRD.
THE SONG OF THE SNOW-BIRD.
POETRY AND AIR BY FRANCIS C. WOODWORTH ACCOMPANIMENT BY 8. N.
r r
The ground was all covered with snow one day, And
3*
two lit-tle sis-ters were bu - sy at play, When a snow-bird was sitting close
THE SONG OF THE SNOW-BIKD.
23
^^ji^ce^f
m
by on a tree, And mer - ri - ly sing-ing his chick-a -de - de,
rr^' . J.
j. -j- '
? trj-
1
CHck-a -de - de, chick-a -de - de. And mer - ri - ly sing-ing his
^piM^-^i v^r^r^p
*;
24: THE SONG OF THE SNOW-BIED.
H.
He had not been singing that tune very long,
Ere Emily heard him, so loud was his song;
"0 sister! look out of the window," said she;
"Here's a dear little bird, singing chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
in.
"Poor fellow! he walks in the snow and the sleet,
And has neither stockings nor shoes on his feet ;
I pity him so ! how cold he must be !
And yet he keeps singing his chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
iv. ,
"If I were a barefooted snow-bird, I know
I would not stay out in the cold and the snow.
I wonder what makes him so full of his glee ;
He's all the tune singing that chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
v.
" mother ! do get him some stockings and shoes,
A nice little frock, and a hat, if he choose ;
I wish he'd come into the parlor, and see
How warm we would make him, poor chick-a-de-de."
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
VI.
The bird had flown down for some pieces of bread,
And heard every word little Emily said ;
"How queer I would look in that dress!" thought he;
And he laughed, as he warbled his chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
VII.
"I thank you," he said, "for the wish you express,
But I've no occasion for such a fine dress ;
I would rather remain with my limbs all free,
Than to hobble about, singing chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
VIII.
" There is ONE, my dear child, though I can not tell who,
Has clothed me already, and warm enough, too.
Good-morning ! O who are so happy as we ?"
And away he v^nt, singing his chick-a-de-de.
Chick-a-de-de, etc.
MEKRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
2W412 tffcat toitfc fcis fmnta.
HE new year! Shall
we moralize about it,
or fritter it into poe-
try ? Shall we do it
up in fresco or mosaic ?
Shall we no, no, we shall do
neither. We shall just welcome
the stranger courteously and
cordially, wish him a happy time of it, a
smooth passage, and a better winding up
than his predecessor had, and so go on
our way to the Chat.
Here we are again, all together, in our
snug parlor. " The dead past has buried
its dead," and we are of the NOW, our re-
sponsibilities still upon us, our blessings
clustering around us. We give you joy,
one and all. A happy New Year to every
one of you, and all whom you love. May
your happiness be that which vanishing
years can not take away with them, which
shall know only one year eternity.
We have a very large budget. Uncle
Hiram has been obliged to grind his
hatchet anew, in order to do the needful
trimming and pruning. He thinks we
shall be obliged to limit all letters to ten
lines, or to offer a premium for the most
comprehensive specimens. We shall think
of it. Meanwhile, he will continue to
amputate as usual.
" The Song of the Snow-Bird" will be
fiew to most of our young folks, and such
as have seen it before, will regard it as
good enough to be repeated.
To save room, we shall have a monthly
list of " Answers Received," instead of
attaching the names to each answer.
NEW YORK, Dec. 1, 1857.
MR. HATCHET: "Who steals my
purse, steals trash ; but he who robs me
of my good name" nay, ha' done wi'
your nonsense. Brother Coleman, I bear
you no ill will, though you have done
that which will make it hard to tell who
is what. Neither will 1 be angry at your
charge of forgery, as I have not been
guilty of that act since, when a little boy,
in my grandpapa's blacksmith shop, I so
cruelly pounded my fingers, that ever
after the mention of forge, or forging,
causes them to tingle again. But are
you exempt from this same charge ? Where
'is your proof? " Show your papers," or
I must still claim to be the " Original
Jacobs." I would rather believe you to
be 0. K., and at present will so consider
you. I do not like the distinctions of
North and South, proposed by Mr. Hatch-
et, for I am a Union man. No. Let that
middle link, the os Haydon be joined to
the os Hoyt, in one bone of concord ; and
thus Siamesically en Turned by the cords
of fraternal affection, we shall present a
noble example of that union which knows
no North, no South, no East, no West.
Still, I fear there will be some con-
fusion in knowing which is which, and I
don't exactly see how it will be remedied ;
though there will have one advantage,
namely, if you say a bright thing, / shall
share the credit, and vice versa ; ditto in
relation to stupid things. There, enough
on that subject. I suppose we may expect
to enjoy the story of Carl Bedenken for
the rest of our natural lives, as it is
" without an end." What has been done
with the latter ? Was it cut off?
PARTICULAR NOTICE. I am requested
to state that f*t an( i ' ' ^U hereafter
discontinue their communications to the
MUSEUM. All business relating to either
of said writers will be settled by me.
WILLIE HOYT COLEMAN.
I don't know about that, Willie. It
takes two to make a bargain ; and here is
! ! to speak for himself, and right well
he speaks, too. If you are to speak for
him, hereafter, you will have to look
PQliarly sharp to your P's and Q's, or at
least to your Q-ri-os-i-ties.
26
MERRY 8 MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
MR. HATCHET : I send a few curios-
ities, to be placed on the shelves of the
MUSEUM AND CABINET.
BOTANICAL.
A sprig from the flower of youth.
Several leaves from the Book of Na-
ture.
A few mourning weeds, dried.
Three buds of promise.
PHYSIOLOGICAL.
A tooth from the mouth of a river.
Also, one from the jaws of death.
The original bone of contention.
A hair from the head of navigation.
Biceps muscle from an arm of the sea.
ASTRONOMICAL.
The tail of the dog-star.
Ditto of the comet.
The buckle of Orion's belt.
POMOLOGICAL.
Three seeds from the apple of the eye.
The core of the apple of discord.
MISCELLANEOUS.
A bill on the River Bank (caved in).
The key which locked two friends in an
embrace.
A splinter from a moonbeam.
A pair of spurs from a mountain range.
The lock to a tree trunk.
Stirrups belonging to a saddle of mut-
ton.
An egg found in a mare's nest.
A timber from the bridge of the nose.
A link from the chain of circumstances.
The above are a very few of a great
number of valuable curiosities worthy of
a place in our MUSEUM. Will some of the
Merrys lend their aid in collecting them ?
!-!
Just the thing, worthy Mr. (or Miss ?)
"!-!," whom our voracious Willie was
about to swallow at a breath, as the
whale (?) did Jonah. What is a " Mu-
seum," but a " Cabinet" of curiosities ?
Hand them along. We will make room
for all genuine specimens.
MISERY VALLEY, Nov. 7, 1857.
Well, if it's not enough to try a Job,
without mentioning myself, then I'm
mistaken.
"Weldon." You may well say, "What's
become of Nip ?" Indeed, I don't quite
know myself. Here have I written two
letters, in the short space of three months,
to "our dear Chat," and and, when in
comes " Hatchet," looking as sharp as
vinegar, and, after perusing my effusions,
gives me a toss " under the table," tells
me emphatically to " stay there," and
troubles himself no more about me ! If
it's not enough to make me a fit subject
for " Bloomingdale," then I am certainly
in the wrong.
Everybody's forgotten me. except Wel-
don (bless his heart!), and I am just
wretched.
If H. H. puts me in a basket again, I
shall certainly do something desperate.
I feel like "boxing" any one, so if
anything of the kind is wished for, I am
ready. Yours, with groans,
NlPPINIFIDGET.
Just to keep you out of Bloomingdale,
Nip, we keep you out of the basket;
though, if you should go mad, it would
be Uncle Sam's fault, and not Uncle
Hiram's. The fact is, Uncle Sam likes
your letters so much, he won't let Uncle
Hiram see them. You will find them at
Washington.
ROBINGROVE, Oct. 21, 1857.
DEAR MR. MERRY : I have for a long
time designed writing to you and the
MUSEUM ; but, since my last letter, I
have been very busy.
Robingrove is still pleasant, but winter
is coming on, and the robins will soon bid
us farewell, and seek a warmer home in
the " sunny southland."
Trippy's Aunty says that he cares for
nothing but eating; his literary tastes
are lost in liver! But when the snow
comes she hopes to see his talents revived.
The other dogs send their best respects,
but never expect to become as distin-
guished as Trip. Respectfully,
PANSY.
Thanks to the fairies for their favors,
and to the bow-wows for their bows of
recognition. Tell Trip he must improve
his tastes, if he means to be a good liver.
MARION, SMYTH Co., VA.,
JVov. 4, 1857.
MY DEAR UNCLE : I am glad to see
that you have returned from your tour
through the Western States. I have not
written to you for a long time, but have
written to Aunt Sue almost every month.
What has become of Aunt Sue's "Bu-
reau ?" Does no one write to her now ?
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
Say to her, that I would like to see her
again, before the year closes. I am al-
ways very glad to get my CABINET, and,
like some of my cousins, I always begin
at the end to read it. Before I close, let
me ask an introduction to Fleta, Willie,
H. C., and A. 0. With much love to
Uncles, Aunt, and Cousins, I remain
yours, sincerely,
LIZZIE M. SHEFFEY.
November 2, 1857.
DEAR UNCLE FRANK : May I come in,
And to the tumult add more din,
And help to eat the dfm-ner, too,
Which is provided by Aunt Sue ?
Aunt Sue cries, " Yes, come and partake,
Here's wtyat will keep thy mind awake ;
Come grave and gay come one and all."
And now, pur-su-ant to her call,
We -pur-sue Aunt into the hall,
Where on the table is arrayed
Enigma, puzzle, and charade.
Now, tripping in with laugh and song,
Here comes the frank and merry throng.
First comes gay Fleta, good and fair,
And fleeter than the timid hare,
When roused by f arrester, from its lair.
Cousin Adelbert, too, I spy,
And that he older is than I ;
And, stealing softly, comae the Clove,
As spicy as a Ceylon grove.
And 0. K. Bush, whom may I see
Grow yet into a tall O. (a) K. tree.
The mind's not colored of Aunt Sue,
For here's Black-Eyes and dark-eyes,
too.
Here's Uncle Joe, who scarcely grows
To be more witty than jo-cose.
Now comes another merry son,
And all that he does, is Wei-don.
A Fisher, too, and for his mate,
I see, indeed, a little Bate.
Here's Crab &ndfish to swim the Waters,
And Dashes, Dots, and genial daughters.
And here's a Soot, in whieh to put,
In winter cold, a solid foot.
But I must stop, or else I'll catch it,
And get the spite of Hiram Hatchet.
The dinner's o'er, clang goes the bell,
And Buckeye Boy must say " farewell."
Farewell ! but, Buckeye, come again,
Give us the echo of your strain,
Which, with its touches, brief but pat,
Is just the music for the Chat.
" ?" is decidedly too demonstrative.
Then she mixes up "new" and " ould" in
such a way, that we can't tell whether
she is Irish or Yankee. We refer her
case to Aunt Sue.
" Kitty Montrose" is welcome. Aunt
Sue says she can not whisper in company.
" C. M. G.," and his Latin puzzle, are
received.
" Willie" shall be accommodated with
more prize puzzles by-and-by.
" Southern Girl" need not be alarmed.
It was only a part of her own fancy.
" Mignone" has our warmest sympathy.
" Lucy and Emma" are most welcome.
We never " shut out" any who wish to
come, and are always glad for them to
take part in the Chat.
" Carrie," we shall be happy to see
you. When you come, perhaps you can
tell us the difference between " licking"
and " sticking."
" Nelly," please make yourself at home.
" Winona" won't be long away. No other
letter of yours has reached us.
" C. F. W." shall have the numbers, if
we can find them.
" Moss Rose" need not fear the daggers,
they are sheathed. Uncle Frank will call,
when he goes that way again.
" Phi" is right in thinking it is enough
to have Aunt Sue for an Aunt, without
knowing her name and history. But he
is wrong in supposing that Uncle Hiram
could not punish him for his name. Fie
on him for saying so. He may send us a
whole comb of new honey, as a forfeit.
If " Oscar" is nicely caught, let him
tell us, if he can, why he does not travel
faster. He is quite an artist.
" Massena" is welcome. Come often.
We will certainly give you a call, in some
of our rambles. But how are we to find
you?
" L. H. P." we can find, without trouble,
and shall be strongly tempted to do so,
after so fine a description of the place.
" Lucy" must bear her disappointment
meekly. Uncle Frank came home in a
hurry. He will be your way again, soon.
" Nelson H. L." Just so.
" Gamma" is formally introduced to
" Jessie," " Gypsey," " Willie," and all
the rest.
28
MEKKY 8 MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FKIENDS.
" Annie" dear, you are right, and when
you write again, you shan't be crowded
oat. Uncle Frank will call next time.
ANSWERS RECEIVED.
Maria Tennessean Buckeye Boy
Lone Star C. W. Susie C. F. G. F
E. W. Kitty Montrose. Ella N. S. T.
R. Wm. M. Nullus Adelbert Older-
Lucy and Emmie C. F. W.--C. E. F.
M. L. G. Moss Rose X. Y. Z. H. B.
Olds Phi Geo. B. H. Oscar B. L.
H. P. H. C. Bate -Philomathas Emma
J. Ida S. Missouri George Esther
Lil-lo S. L. M.Minta Jack Two of
Us Anon Max U. L. A.
^- A HI XT. _,<gj
I had a very pleasant dream :
I thought I saw a golden stream
Flow In, and fill my cup.
I woke and found that, one and all,
Our readers, answering to our call,
Were promptly PAYING TIP.
R. M.
UNCLE FRANK'S MONTHLY TABLE-TALK.
the mind) , but if you will look into the
matter a little more carefully, you will
perceive that it is not so. The type is
smaller than formerly, while it is newer
and equally distinct, and the pages con-
tain as much matter. One can not pa-
tronize the tailor very extensively with-
out running up a rather formidable bill.
What we have been doing has cost a good
deal of money. But we hope to get the
worth of it back, and a great deal more,
by the increased value which our friends
will place upon our magazine. That is
the way we take to wish you all a Happy
JVew Year.
THE TWO UNCLES.
Uncle Frank and Uncle Hiram having
become sufficiently acquainted with each
other, to be able to determine that they
will get along very well together, with
no more jars than usually fall to the
lot of most well-regulated families of
course I speak now of jars of preserves
will not, in future, always place their
free-and-easy chat in separate depart-
ments. They will, on the contrary, often
have something to say, when it will
puzzle the wisest of you to guess which
of the Uncles said it. So look out.
You see, boys and girls, how we have
begun the New Year, don't you? Be-
cause it would really be a great pity if
we should put down new carpets, var-
nish up our furniture, hang up lots of new
pictures on the walls, and make our-
selves as spruce as possible, and you
didn't notice any of the changes we
made. I suppose we editors feel some-
thing of a housewife's pride, in our
family arrangements, and we should be
mortified, as well as she, if our fancied
good taste all went for nothing. Now,
the long and the short of the thing is just
this : that, as our MUSEUM AND CAB-
INET is the mammoth magazine for the
little folks, and has a greater circula-
tion than any other publication in the
world, we are determined that it shall be
well-dressed and make a handsome figure
among its companions. That is the
reason we have changed his drapery so
materially. You see we have given him
an entirely new suit, from his chin to
his toes. The border around the page,
we think, sets off the charms of our
protege not a little. What do you think ?
At first, it may seem that this change
reduces the amount of matter (a change
which might, perhaps, be regarded as
ornamenting the body at the expense of
" SOMEBODY S DAUGHTER.
And who is Somebody's Daughter ?
Ah! that is what the shrewd girl does
not care to tell. Nor does she inform
us where she lives. But she sends us
MERRY 8 MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
29
some spicy rhymes, it must be confessed,'
which would do credit to anybody's
daughter. I suppose she must have be-
come somewhat inspired in reading Uncle
Hiram's article on the sewing-machine,
in the last number of our magazine. At
all events, she has, by some means or
other, worked herself up to a pretty high
pitch of enthusiasm on the subject. I
hope it will not be necessary for her
friends to put her into a strait jacket.
Just listen to her :
THE SEWING-MACHINE.
Done into rhyme by Somebody's Daughter.
I sing the exploits of the sewing-ma-
chine,
And in these few numbers install as my
hero,
A greater than many a king or queen
Than Pepin or Tamerlane, Pompey or
Nero.
As it turns off its stitches, or faster or
slow,
At the rate of a thousand or less in a
minute,
One can not help wondering whether or no
The mind of a Yankee is really in it.
It curtails the doctor's vocation and
fees;
Give one to your wife, to your sweet-
heart, or sister,
To shield her from pain and from wast-
ing disease,
'Tis better than bleeding, or bolus, or
blister.
As it sews you a seam, a knot it will tie,
As strong as the knot of the parson, or
stronger ;
On its genius and skill you may safely
rely,
Though the stitch you should fancy be
shorter or longer.
It greets both the rich and the poor as a
friend ;
'Tis at home in the cottage, the palace,
the villa ;
Its province alike is to make or to mend
A coat or a collar, a frock or mantilla.
Of sewing-machines 'tis important to
know,
There are hundreds of styles, and a
dozen of makers ;
Some good and some bad, at high prices
and low ;
But the one I'm in love with is Grover
and Baker's.
AUNT SUE'S BUKEAU.
ters addressed
to Aunt Sue
like good wine?
Because they
the worse for
keeping ; and that is a
very fortunate circum-
stance, as I find some
dated as far back as July!
I am afraid the dear little writers fancied
themselves neglected ; but never mind,
" better late than never," you know.
BEECHGROVE, IA., Sept. 16, 1857
DEAR AUNT SUE : On receipt of the
July number of the CABINET, I answered
as many of the puzzles as I could make
out, and wrote you a long letter, but
before I had an opportunity of sending
it, our house was burned. We saved
very little, and barely escaped with our
lives. One of my brothers was so badly
burned, that for a time his life was al-
most despaired of, but he is now nearly
well. (Poor, dear brother ! How I wish
I had been near him, to sometimes amuse
him, and make him forget his pain, Aunt
Sue.)
30
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
We are now residing at the house
of a friend ; when I next write I hope to
date from " Home." I have often won-
dered at the little nieces and nephews
making such a fuss about your name ; /
guess it is . Now, do tell me,
Aunty, if that is right. I, too, say,
" Welcome back, ancient Laura." Give
my love to Black-Eyes and Willie H. C.
What has become of 0. L. Bradley ? I
wonder if my letter will get a hatchet-
ing, or be consigned to that " terrible
basket." Give my love to all the cousins.
Yours truly, MARIE.
I am afraid that was a " Yankee
guess" of yours, Marie; their guesses
are based on certainty, and there is no
disputing yours, /can not imagine either
why they should make " such a fuss''
about Aunt Sue ; I am half inclined to
think that it is a conspiracy among my
nieces and nephews to talk me into im-
portance !
But, Marie, just -see what F. M. H.
says :
AUGUST A, GA., Sept. 7, 1857.
MY DEAR AUNT SUE : I beg you to
pardon me for writing you these few
lines, because you are an old maid [did
you ever ! A. <S.], and therefore do not
like your nephews to annoy you with
their letters. I declare, Annt Sue, you
ought to be out here, in the good old
State of Georgia, and especially in Au-
gusta; it is the most pleasant place in
the South. The streets are laid out
somewhat like those of Hartford, Conn.,
the abode of that young man, Willie,
whom Black- Eyes and Nip are making
such a fuss about.
I hope Willie will allow me to sympa-
thize with him in his great trouble with
the girls. Give my love to Black-Eyes,
and ask her for my sake to quit teas-
ing Willie.
Your affectionate nephew, F. M. H.
Here is a letter written by some one
who seems charitably disposed to take
Aunt Sue " on trust," but, alas ! I can
find no signature.
JOY, August 11, 1857.
AUNT SUE : It is with pleasure that,
after a long time, I sit down to acquaint
you with the fact that I am still in the
land of the living. [I am delighted to
hear it but who is " I ?" A. S, ] Please
give me an introduction to Mr. Merry,
Uncle Hiram, and all the Merry cousins.
[Certainly; Mr. Merry, Mr. Hatchet,
allow me to introduce my friend " I."
Jl. S.~\ I see from the last number of
the CABINET that Black-Eyes is apt to
" pitch into" some of the weaker cousins.
Please tell her from me, that if she
touches me I shall let her alone, severely.
And tell U. F. that his nephew Eddie
was not so smart but that I found out
his own age, and that of his father and
mother ; and I did not get up till six
o'clock either.
There seems to be a very great desire
among the cousins, and the Merry ones
in particular, to know who you are.
Now I know that we all love you just as
we,!! as if we knew your real name, so
there is no use in fretting about it. Does
Uncle Hiram have anything to do with
your letters ? [He keeps them for me.
Jl. 5.] If he does, tell him to spare my
letter this time and oblige me.
Won't somebody tell me who " me" is ?
EDEN VALLEY, N. II., Aug. 24, 1857.
DEAR AUNT SUE : I have been much
pleased with the CABINET ever since I
formed its acquaintance, nearly two years
ago. I have liked it all, but if I am par-
tial to any part of it, it is certainly to
Aunt Sue's Bureau. I wonder if there is
room for another round that " Bureau ;"
if there is, I should be very happy to
make the acquaintance of my cousins.
My little sister sends her love and a kiss
to Aunt Sue. [Bless the little darling !
give her a good hug for me. A. S.~\ With
love to Uncle Frank, Aunt Sue, and all
my cousins, Your devoted niece,
LILLIE FORREST.
Plenty of room, Lillie dear.
OAK WILD LODGE, Sept. 12, 1857.
DEAR AUNTY : My own wishes have
seconded my little sister's entreaty, that
I write to " Aunt Sue ;" and now in the
name of dark-eyed Kate, light-haired
Eddie, and golden-curled Minnie, I hum-
bly and earnestly solicit an introduction
to Uncle, and all the Merrys of the MU-
SEUM a Museum that I like better, far,
than P. T. Barnum's ; and I beg of Mr.
Daggers Dash, Star Daggers, or whatever
he calls himself, not to set the MUSEUM
in commotion by any more s:uch hot-
MEKKY S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
31
headed letters as his last, and ask Walter
Grey if he has not had Professor Fow-
ler's fingers about his head ; if he hasn't,
let him go quick the Professor will tell
him he's a poet, or will be. With senti-
ments of purest regard,
Your friendly niece, ROSAMOND.
Walk in, Fair Rosamo7id, our " dag-
gers" are harmless, and we have no pois-
oned bowl here.
EDEN VALLEY, Aug. 21, 1857.
DEAR AUNT SUE : I am very much
pleased with the August number of the
CABINET. I think it a great improve-
ment on the July number, for there was
none of Uncle Frank's Monthly Table-
Talk in that. I felt rather huffy (if that
word is in the Dictionary) about that
deficiency, all of last month. I knew it
was no use to grumble though, and so I
kept pretty silent on the subject. My
love to Uncle Frank and my cousins, and
accept a large share for yourself.
Your affectionate niece,
EUGENIE FORREST.
7 would fain be silent, to let Uncle
Frank speak.
Make room for Bess to state her griev-
ances.
BROOKLYN, Sept. 16, 1857.
DEAR MUSEO-CABINET : I could not
have believed that you would treat an
old friend so badly. Catch me wasting
two sheets of pink note-paper, o'er-writ
with blue ink, upon you again ! But
" Forgive and forget," says somebody,
and I'll take the advice this time. If
my letter ever reached you, which I con-
siderably doubt (for it had to come only
from the New York P. 0. to your sanc-
tum, about a quarter of a mile [?] ), most
probably the inexorable Hiram chopped
it all up with that Procrustean hatchet
of " his'n." Was it so ? I really think,
in view of your growing correspondence,
that you had better " set" it " up" first,
and let the rest of the Mag. take its
chance. What say you ? But, should
you have the condescension to " prent"
my " notes," keep me at a good distance
from all " Dash-daggers," " Star-dag-
gers," and all that warlike tribe. Please
do. And please, too, introduce me to
' ' Black- Eyes," and ask her to tell me
who " W. F. 0." is, if she knows. I'm
exceedingly curious about him (:).
Yours, ORIGINAL BESS.
BROOKLYN, Sept. 14, 1857.
DEAR AUNT SUE : I think I may
claim a place in the circle of your cor-
respondents, for old acquaintance sake,
as I have been a subscriber to your mag-
azine ever since it commenced, and have
always read it with the greatest inter-
est.
Many are the enigmas, charades, etc.,
whose mysteries I have unraveled ; many
also are the labyrinths Avhose mazes I
have threaded, but never could I sum-
mon resolution to write to your own dear
self, although you look so sweet.* I
should like to steal a kiss, yet I have the
greatest horror of dark drawers and cor-
ners, and have always been afraid that
it would be my fate to be consigned to
some such receptacle for dull letters. But
that rule is sounding in my ears, " Brev-
ity is the soul of wit," and I hasten to
close.
The answer to question No. 171 is
' Windlasses," and to No. 172 is " Odo-
acer." I should like to answer in rhyme,
but, alas ! to me is not given the poetic
afflatus. You know it would never do to
have two smart ones in a family, and I
am BESS'S SISTER.
* Didn't you take the " poet's license"
there, little sister ?
N. SANDWICH, N. H,, Aug. 21, 1857.
DEAR AUNT SUE : I have not written
to the CABINET since its union with the
MUSEUM, but I think I shall like it very
much indeed. It seems that Uncle Frank
has been playing truant again. Well, I
suppose that we shall have to get along
without him the best we can. I hope he
will have some letters from the West in
every number of the CABINET. Is he
going into Minnesota and Iowa ?
I remain your nephew,
OMAR W. FOLSOM.
TREMAINSVILLE, 0., Sept. 10,1857.
MY DEAR AUNT SUE : May I not be-
come one of your nieces ? I hear your
kind voice saying, " Oh ! yes, certainly ;"
and as this is the case, I presume I can
make myself at home. What a delicious
Indian summer we are having ! We live
in a farm-house, and the scenery all
around us is delightful. Oh ! if the
people were only half as good as the
earth is beautiful, this world would be
fit for angels to live in, would it not,
Aunty ? [Yes, indeed, dear ; but in that
32
MERRY 6 MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
case, I am afraid we should scarce long
for a "better world." A. S.~\ I hope
you will not forget us if you ever come
this way. Good-bye, dear Aunty.
Your loving LOTTIE.
WEST UNION, Oct., 1857.
My dearest Aunty Sue,
I write this to you,
With the hope that you'll now introduce me
To Mollie and Lillie,
To Fleta and Willie.
Now, Aunty, please do not refuse me,
I wish only to say,
(And I hope that I may),
I enjoy much your magazine fare,
At the coming of night,
When I read with delight
Its stories, so racy and rare.
But now it is time .
To finish my rhyme,
So I really must bid you farewell ;
Give my love to the cousins,
By tens and by dozens,
And believe me your friend,
MATTIE BELL.
Answers to Questions in Nov. No.
190. It is often sounding.
191. Heroine.
192. 9i
193. Coat.
194. P-ear.
195. The letter r makes fiend friend.
196. D-clivity.
197. Man-kind.
198. What is it ?
199. Pen-man-ship.
200. July-uly, ly, y.
201. Hidden.
202. Beg-one.
203. One flees for shelter, the other is a
shelter for fleas.
204. The cock.
205. The letter S.
Questions, Enigmas, Charades, etc.
1. Why is virtue like a star ? C. W.
2. Why is the letter D a great reformer ?
jlaron De L.
3. Divide a square into 16 smaller
squares, in which arrange the num-
bers, from 1 to 16, so that added
horizontally, perpendicularly, or di-
agonally, each line will be 34 ; and
the square being divided into four
equal parts, the sum of the four
numbers in each shall be 34.
Omega.
4. In what kind of skin was Adam
clothed? L. U.
5. Spell red rogue with three letters.
L. U.
6. Why is MERRY'S MUSEUM like a
spoon in a cup of tea ? Wild Rose.
7. My first is a disordered mind,
My second, a substance for food,
My third is a lassie, both gentle and
kind,
My whole, a poetical mood. /S. F.
8. A bouquet of flowers.
1. A goddess and her snare for an
insect.
2. A prelate and part of his dress.
3. A ruler and part of a bird.
4. A female's ornament.
5. A heavenly body, a preposition,
and a town in India.
6. A musical instrument and a use-
less herb.
7. A young horse and part of his
body. Cousin J\T.
9. How did Queen Elizabeth surpass
Niagara Falls ? Cousin JV.
10. What youth does not seek for my
first with great care ?
To woo me all perils, all climes he
will dare ;
Once a goddess, now often called
fickle and vain,
But a dame woo'd by all, all can not
obtain.
My second what Indian's not proud
of a name,
Which he shares with his dog, as
well as the game ?
If enough of my first you possess,
and to spare,
My whole will be ready to ask for a
share
But, ladies, be warned of my whole
to beware. Jinon.
11. What two rivers in New England
have prepared a suitable place of
gathering for Uncle Merry's great
family ? Susie.
12. Four letters, I may truly say,
Comprise my little store,
But if you take just one away,
You leave me fifty-four.
Buckeye Boy.
THE SNOW-HOUSE.
33
THE SNOW-HOUSE.
A palace, or a cot it matters not."
THE SNOW-HOUSE.
SEE, Charlie, out there, by the elm
tree,
The snow has been eddying round,
And has made, for our winter snow-
house,
A broad and beautiful mound.
Come, Charlie, bring out your shovel,
And soon we will let them see,
How nice, how snug, and how cosy,
Our winter palace can be.
NEW SERIES. VOL. V. 3
The door shall be arched and lofty,
The room within shall be round ;
And we'll have a fire-place and chim-
ney,
And a carpet of straw for the ground.
Then we'll have a magnificent party,
And all our friends receive,
With chestnuts, popped corn, and
candy,
On Christmas or New Year's eve.
H. H.
PUTTING- OFF THINGS.
PUTTING OFF THINGS.
MY friends, do you like long words?
Because, if you do, I can treat you
to one right on the spot, say half as long
as your arm. For myself, I have no
fancy for long words, and seldom come
across them in my reading, without
wondering why the man who served
them up didn't take a chopping-knife,
and cut them up into words of conve-
nient size. I don't like
long words at all ; they
may possibly show off a
writer's learning, but they
certainly don't speak very
well for his common sense.
Some people, if they were
going to tell you the story
I have just undertaken to JW
tell, instead of employ-
ing the plain title which I ]
have put over it, would ~\
have given it the impos- ^
ing and sonorous heading, Z
Procrastination. Now,
boys, do you like that any
better? I want you all
suited. In this respect, I
am as accommodating as
the celebrated Tim Dex-
ter is reputed to have
been ; he wrote a book,
you know, without a sin-
gle comma, or semicolon,
or pause of any kind in the
entire volume, but gave
directions for the printer
to furnish half-a-dozen
pages of these pauses at the end of the
book, with a note to the reader, stat-
ing that, as there was a great deal of
difference among people as to the par-
ticular use of marks of punctuation,
he wished every one to season the
book according to his own individual
taste. Here are the two headings, my
And
boy ; take just which you like,
now for the story :
Among the play -fellows of my boy-
hood was one Tom Stansell. Let me
make you acquainted with one of the
most marked features in his character
one which stood out so boldly that
nobody could be in his company an
hour without noticing it, any more
CAUGHT IN A SHOWER.
than he could help noticing a huge
and ungainly nose on a man's face.
This trait in Tom's character was that
of putting off things. I don't know
how early he came by this habit,
though he must have been very young
when he first took it up. As long ago
as I can remember the boys in school
PUTTING OFF THINGS.
35
used to nickname him Standstill, on ac-
count of this unfortunate habit of his.
He was never at his place in the
school-house until late. How he al-
ways contrived to be systematically
behind time was a mystery even to
himself. When reproved, as he fre-
quently was, by the schoolmaster, I
have known him scratch his head, as
if that organ was completely bewil-
dered and puzzled, and declare that
he could not, for the life of him, tell
how he came to be tardy. It was just
so at church, or at meeting, rather, as
we used to say in good old Connecticut
a third of a century ago. He was
never in season, when he was left by
his parents to depend on his own man-
agement. Many a time, on a Saturday
afternoon, when there was no school,
I have waited for him to call and go
on a fishing excursion over to Mason's
pond, according to his promise wait-
ed, and waited, and waited, until I lost
all my patience, as well as most of
my good-humor, and went off without
him. He was sure to disappoint me
as to the time of fulfilling his promises,
though he was sure to come some time
or other. If he was sent on an er-
rand, with particular instructions to
be in haste, something would detain
him, so that the errand would not be
done in season.
Tom's habit was sometimes very ex-
pensive, both to himself and to others.
One day, he and his sister were spend-
ing the afternoon at my father's. It
was during the summer season. To-
ward night, dark clouds began to gath-
er, and one or two reports of dis-
tant thunder were heard. My mother
thought her young visitors would do
well to start for home, for fear they
might be overtaken by the storm. But
Tom thought there "would be plenty
of time" if they waited a little while
longer. They did wait. Finally, how-
ever, Tom was ready to start. My
mother lent him an umbrella, and
begged him to walk as fast as possi-
ble. They had not left the door three
minutes before the rain began to pour
down in torrents, and both Tom and
his sister, who had half a mile to walk,
were drenched through and through.
They reached home as wet as two
drowned rats.
I said, a few moments ago, that Tom
himself didn't know how he came to
be uniformly out of time in anything
that he did. Now, in this respect, I
must give myself credit for being a
little wiser than my old school-fellow.
I think I do know. It resulted from
his systematic and persevering habit
of putting off things. Let me show
you exactly how he did it. He was
not ready to do anything at the in-
stant when it ought to be done. He
wanted to think about it when he
ought to be doing it. He lay in bed,
lazily and foolishly, when he ought to
be getting up and dressing. That was
the reason, you see, he was late at
breakfast and late at school. It was
just so with the lessons he had to
learn out of school-hours. He was
thinking of getting the books, when
he ought to be conning over the les-
son. He was absolutely never ready
for the lesson. After tea, at night,
his mother, perhaps, would remind
him of his task. But the reply would
be, " Oh, there's time enough ;" and so
he would amuse himself with some
boyish sport. By-and-by, it wanted
only an hour of bed-time. If he was
again reminded of his lesson, the same
answer would be ready, " There's
plenty of time." And so, very likely,
the lesson would not be learned until
the next morning, and then, of coin-be,
hurriedly and imperfectly, if at ail.
36
PUTTING OFF THINGS.
How true is the sentiment in that
line of poetry, with which almost every
boy is familiar, " Just as the twig is
bent, the tree's inclined!" Tom was
never broken of his habit. It followed
him all through his boyhood, and after
he became a man it stuck to him as
closely as if it had been one of his most
cherished friends; as, indeed, I half
suspect it was. Tom has never
been successful in business, not
because he is deficient in indus-
try, or judgment, or foresight,
or application for he has all
these qualities but simply be-
cause he is not ready to do
things in season, but persistent-
ly and invariably puts them off.
He can not close a bargain to-
day, when everything about it
is as plain as the nose on a
man's face, but puts it off till to-
morrow : " Well, why will not
to-morrow do about as well ?"
About as well ! The very way
you ask the question shows that
you don't believe it is quite as
well. Then why not to-day ?
But the fact is, to-day is every
way better than to-morrow.
Perhaps something may occur
to prevent its being accomplish-
ed after to-day. Besides, let
me tell you a secret : " To-mor-
row," with Tom Stansell, and
men of his character, is only
another word for " some other
time," and that time, "other time," is
almost sure never to come.
Now, boys, I have not told you this
story because I thought it might enter-
tain you ; still less have I told it because
I take pleasure in pointing out the de-
fects in people's characters. I have
told it for the same reason that light-
houses are erected.
Our government do not put up a
light-house just because it is a rather
handsome structure, and its light is
pleasant to behold in a dark night.
They build the light-house to show
the mariner, as he approaches that
coast, that there is danger on that
shore. When a wise captain sees that
light, he gives it a "wide berth," to
use a sailor's phrase he keeps out of
THE LIGHT-HOUSE.
its way. That is precisely the reason
I have told you the story, my boy. I
have set up Tom Stansell as a light-
house. So see to it that you do not
let your vessel run on to that coast ;
for it is a dangerous one. There
are breakers in that direction. If you
strike on them, you are sure to be
wrecked. Don't put off things.
USCLE FRANK.
THE LITTLE COMMODORE.
37
FRANK AND HIS FATHER FISHING.
THE LITTLE COMMODORE.
THE morning was fine, and the sun's
*- rays were tinging with mellow light
the tops of trees on the opposite hills,
while the hills themselves still re-
mained buried in deep shade, or were
reflected in the smooth surface of the
river. Having dispatched their break-
fast, Frank and his father sallied out,
each with his rod and line (Frank car-
rying a basket for the safe keeping of
the fish), and soon were at the little
cove, Frank enjoyed dearly a walk
with his father, who was an enthusi-
astic admirer of all that is beautiful in
nature; and well knowing how much
the happiness of life is increased by
such a taste, he took every opportunity
of cultivating a similar one in his son.
The lights and shadows on the mount-
ain scenery, the various reflections on
the transparent water, the refulgent
sunset, the lightning that filled the
heavens with vivid flashes all were
to him subjects of contemplation. Nor
were these the only subjects that ex-
cited his fancy. The form of a tree,
the texture and color of a leaf, the
dew-drops distilled over the foliage,
and even the rough pebble, possessed
beauty in his eye. He knew, too, how
to mingle pleasant instruction while
discoursing on the uses of all these
things to human, animal, and vegeta-
ble nature ; and to this he added the
rare gift of describing correctly what
he had seen in other countries, and
what he knew of their people. All
these accomplishments threw a charm
over the walk Frank took with his
father.
As they were proceeding along to
the fishing-gronnd, Frank noticed flat
38
THE LITTLE COMMODORE.
circles upon the dewy grass, as if it
had been pressed by some weight.
Pointing this out to his father, he was
informed that in Scotland and Ireland
these spots are by the simple-minded
peasantry called fairy rings. Indeed,
they firmly believe that these little
beings meet at night to dance and
frolic in the moonlight, which account-
ed for the curious circles in the grass.
Arriving at the rock ere the sun was
high enough to cast its reflection upon
the spot, the deep, still water looked
dark, which Captain Melville said was
a sure indication that the fish would
bite well. Having unreeled their lines,
the captain took from the basket a lit-
tle tin box, and having opened it, gave
Frank one of the small clams brought
for bait. " Now, Frank," said he, pat-
ting him upon the arm playfully, "bait
well your hook, and we shall see who
will catch the first bass. This is the
month for bass, and unless I am much
mistaken, there are some about." Frank
was all excitement at the idea of catch-
ing a bass, but he knew that good luck
in fishing depended very much upon
keeping ^quiet. So, baiting his hook,
with great agility he dropped it noise-
lessly into the water, as his father did
the same, at a short distance off. Not
a word was spoken for several minutes,
when suddenly Frank's face brightened
up, and he exultingly drew in his line,
exclaiming, as a fine fish shone and
floundered upon the surface, " See, fa-
ther ! see, father ! I have hooked a
bass ; here's a bass !"
" Pull, my son pull him in stead-
ily ; but he is not a bass ! You must
try again." And he glanced at the
fish, and seemed to enjoy his son's en-
thusiasm heartily. " But, Frank," he
continued, " I believe in my heart you
have frightened away my first fish
just as he was about to bite."
Frank had only caught a good-sized
perch, arid, trying again and again, he
hooked quite a number' of the same
kind, but not one bass. Captain Mel-
ville, though an expert angler, was not
so fortunate as his son, who had such
good luck that he soon counted two
fish to his father's one ; and the bas-
ket being nearly full, he was now
about to give up all hopes of catching
a bass that morning. " We must give
up the bass to-day, my son," said he,
drawing up his line, "and as the hour
for your tutor has nearly arrived, and
I must be at the cars at ten, reel up
your line and we will return home."
Frank was not inclined to favor this
motion, and begging his father to re-
main a little longer, and let him have
" one more try," he again cast his line,
his father in the meantime pulling out
his watch and motioning his approba-
tion of the act. " Try again, then,
my son," said the father, "but do not
be disappointed if you have no luck."
Frank watched the bait intently as it
gradually sunk, his face became flushed
with anxiety, every minute seemed an
hour, and scarcely had his father done
speaking, when he felt a sharp pull,
the line tautened and vibrated, and
he cried out, in an exultant voice,
" There, father ! there, father ! there
he is!" And quickly pulling in his
line, there came splashing and floun-
dering to the surface a fine fish, his fa-
ther at once pronounced a striped
bass, and which Frank, whose child-
like enthusiasm now knew no limits,
regarded as a prize of great value.
Frank's joy knew no bounds. lie
would have spent an hour examining
the fish and exclaiming at his wonder-
ful good fortune in taking it at the last
moment, had not his father warned
him of the necessity of returning home.
The prize was carefully placed at the
40
CURIOUS FACTS. THE CHILD'S CHOICE. A THOUGHT.
top of the basket, which Frank insisted
on carrying. When they reached the
house, he begged permission to take it
himself to the kitchen and ask the
cook to dress it for dinner and serve it
alone.
This story, with the engraving of
Gibraltar, is taken from " The Little
Commodore" by May Eanibler, a very
excellent book of 300 pages, just pub-
lished by Sheldon, Blakeman & Co.
The young sailor makes a voyage with
his father, stops at Gibraltar, and oth-
er important and interesting places,
about which he gives much valuable
information.
The Rock of Gibraltar is a dark,
precipitous promontory, rising out of
the sea to the height of 1,400 feet. It
bristles with cannon in every direc-
tion, and is one of the most impreg-
nable fortresses in the world.
CURIOUS FACTS.
BEES are geometricians. The cells
are so constructed as, with the least
quantity of material, to have the
largest-sized spaces and the least pos-
sible loss of interstice. The mole is a
meteorologist. The bird called a nine-
killer is an arithmetician ; as also the
crow, the wild turkey, and some other
birds. The torpedo, the ray, and the
electric eel, are electricians. The
nautilus is a navigator. He raises
and lowers his sails, casts and weighs
anchor, and performs other nautical
acts. Whole tribes of birds are mu-
sicians. The beaver is an architect,
builder, and woodcutter. He cuts
down trees, and erects houses and
dams. The marmot is a civil en-
gineer. He does not only build houses,
but constructs aqueducts and drains
to keep them dry. The white ants
maintain a regular army of soldiers.
Wasps are paper manufacturers.
Caterpillars are silk spinners. The
squirrel is a ferryman. With a chip,
or piece of bark, for a boat, and his
tail for a sail, he crosses a stream.
Dogs, wolves, jackals, and many
others, are hunters. The black bear
and heron are fishermen. The ants
have regular day -laborers. The mon-
key is a rope-dancer.
THE CHILD'S CHOICE.
I'D choose to be a daisy,
If I might be a flower,
Closing my petals softly
At twilight's quiet hour ;
And waking in the morning,
When falls the early dew,
To welcome heaven's bright sunshine,
And heaven's bright tear-drops, too.
I love the gentle lily,
It is so meek and fair ;
But daisies I love better,
For they grow everywhere.
Lilies droop always sadly,
In sunshine and in shower ;
But daisies still look upward,
However dark the hour.
A THOUGHT.
IF but a single thought I drop
Into a drowsy ear,
It may revive the spark of hope,
And the desponding cheer.
A word may save where volumes fail,
If spoken from the heart,
And with the dying soul prevail,
And life and joy impart.
Ye all can speak a gentle word
To bless the weak and low,
And o'er life's dark and thorny road .
Sweet flowers and sunshine throw.
A PEEP AT THE SEAT OF WAR.
4:1
A PEEP AT THE SEAT OF WAR.
UCKNOW is an
important place
in India, being
the capital of
the kingdom of
Oude. It is
situated on one
of the upper
branches of the
Ganges, on the
direct line from Calcutta to Delhi,
and is about 250 miles southeast from
the latter place, and about GOO miles
northwest from Calcutta. It is very
interesting, at the present time, as
being the place where General Have-
lock, with a considerable portion of
the British army, is shut up and hem-
med in, by a large army of native
troops. The besieging army is esti-
mated at 70,000, and the danger is very
great that they will either capture the
city or starve out the garrison. In ei-
ther case, no part of the British army
will be spared to tell the story. A
considerable force, under the com-
mand of Sir Colin Campell, is on the
march to relieve the place, and strong
hopes are entertained that he may
compel the raising of the siege, and so
relieve the garrison. But if it be true,
as stated in the last accounts, that the
natives are 70,000 strong around the
city, while Sir Colin has only 4,000
men, the prospect would seem to be
uncertain, to say the least. But we
shall soon know more of the matter.
Lucknow, like many Indian towns,
has an imposing aspect, when seen
from a distance, with its numerous
cupolas and minarets stretching up
into the sky and glittering in the sun.
Some of the palaces and principal
buildings are very beautiful. The arch-
itecture is partly Oriental and partly
English.
Lucknow is a place of great resort
during the seasons of its public festi-
vals and court ceremonies, which far
.surpass in grandeur any thing now
seen at Delhi. The state processions
of the late king are described as rival-
THE CITY OF LUCKKOW.
A PEEP AT THE SEAT OF WAR.
ing those of the Mogul emperors in
the days of their glory. The Moham-
medan festivals are celebrated at Luck-
now with great magnificence. The
court, and its numerous
guests, are usually enter-
tained with combats of wild
beasts, and a dinner in the
best English style, with an
accompaniment of dances.
SOLDIER OF TUB KING OF OODE.
The kingdom of Oude has been, in
former times, one of the most import-
ant of the British dependencies in
India. It possesses great natural ad-
vantages, not ex-
ceeded by that of
any other portion
of the country. Its
surface is level and
watered by innu-
merable streams.
Cultivated, as it
was under its for-
mer rulers, it yield-
ed rich crops of
wheat, sugar, cot-
ton, opium, indigo,
and other valuable
products. But oppressive taxation has
destroyed the inducements to indus-
try, and left large portions of land to
run to waste.
The district, or state, of Delhi adjoins
the Oude on the northwest, and occu-
pies nearly all the territory in which
the principal sources of the Ganges
are found. It was the central prov-
ince, and seat of the great Mogul Em-
pire.
Cashmere, which is farther north,
on the borders of Tartary, is described
as the most enchanting spot in all
Asia. It is a broad, luxuriant valley,
clothed with perpetual verdure, and
watered by gentle cascades, falling
from the mountains. Fruits and flow-
ers abound. The rose of Cashmere is
held in such high estimation, that an
annual, called "the feast of roses," is
celebrated in its honor. Cashmere
was once regarded as a sort of holy
land, and was filled with temples ded-
icated to various idols. The celebrated
Cashmere shawls are made here, from
the wool of the goats of Thibet. Under
the Mogul dynasty the number of
shawl looms in Cashmere was esti-
mated at 40,000. It is now less than
3,000. A pair of shawls, of the best
kind, would be worth 1,000 to 1,500
dollars, and would occupy fifteen men
THE GRAND MOSQUE.
for eight months. How much would
each get per month ?
KINDNESS TO ANIMALS.
KINDNESS TO ANIMALS
3 HAVE often wish-
'ed I could be useful
in making children
think more about be-
ing kind to all dumb animals.
And many times have I long-
ed to prevent the great cruel-
ty of confining birds in small cages;
and have sighed at the sight of such
little prisoners ; while I said to my-
self, "If every one felt as I do, they
would never make prisoners of the
beautiful creatures a kind Providence
has given, for us to admire and enjoy
abroad in the open air."
Would any of you like to be always
shut up in a little room, only able to
move from side to side in the space
allotted? How cruel! you would say,
for any one to serve you so. There-
fore you should think and feel for these
little creatures ; and I can not suppose
you would delight in punishing the
animals God has made, if you were
taught to think more, for we should be
very tender to all dumb creatures. If
we loved God, we should learn to be
good, and then we should feel happy
in trying to make everything happy
around us. Kindness to animals is
always spoken of as an amiable trait in
a child's character; and I hope you
will ever bear in mind that they can
feel as well as you.
Eemember there is an eye that con-
stantly sees you, and takes an account
of all you do ; and your delight should
be in loving to make others happy as
well as yourselves. Once having known
of a bird being starved to death is
enough, or ought to be enough, to check
others from liking to make prisoners of
little birds.
I knew a family in which there were
several children, and probably the care
of feeding their "Dickie" was not left
to one only ; but he was found dead in
his cage, and their grandfather told
me, with a sad countenance, that the
poor bird had died through neglect. I
can not forget the horror that came
over me on hearing it. I wish it might
be told, to prevent the keeping of such
prisoners, and causing such cruelty
again.
Some time ago, I was much inter-
ested in the fondness evinced between
a little boy and a cat. Puss was a
favorite with all the family, and attach-
ed herself so much to him, that when
he was poorly and confined to his
chamber, puss would find her way up
stairs, and lay herself on his bed, purr-
ing, and seeming so happy to be by
him. If any one went into his room,
she would conceal herself until the vis-
itor had retired, and then creep out,
that she might enjoy her young master's
caresses ; and when ho walked out, she
would follow him with his faithful dog,
wherever he went about the home
premises. Indeed, it was beautiful to
see how all his kindness to his pets was
rewarded by their attachment and
watchfulness. "Keeper" seemed to be
a dog of no little intelligence, and a
word to go or to stay was understood
by him. Many a lesson, I thought,
might be learned from this example of
kindness of love.
LACONICS.
A little girl, in a very plain dress,
was returning from school, when a
coarse and savage-looking man came
along, dragging a dog by a string.
Hw L
x-L" '_-. ^
Sometimes he would twitch the string
sharply, and then beat the poor dog,
because he cried, and tried to get
away.
" Please don't," said Mary ; " please
don't hurt poor doggy so."
" What.is that to you?" growled the
savage; "mind your own business, and
keep out of my way."
"Why," said Mary, looking him
calmly in his face, "don't you know
that God sees you ?"
The brute was very angry, but that
calm, quiet look and fearless attitude
were too much for him. He turned
away, and went on growling ; but he
did not twitch the string nor beat the
dog till he was quite out of Mary's
sight.
How many a child has been won by
gentleness and kindness, that would
not yield by severe meas-
ures ! And we often find
it so in the treatment of
animals. The dog, for in-
stance, that barks in sur-
prise on first meeting you,
and with a stick held up to
him, will grow very angry,
but by speaking softly and
kindly, and coaxing him,
will often come and appear
to be quite ready for a pat
on his side : do you not rec-
ollect these lines ?
" Be you to others kind and true,
As you'd have others be to
you," etc.
And also the verse :
" A man of feeling to his beast
is kind,
But brutal actions mark a bru-
tal mind," etc.
It is well to store the
memory with such xiseful
rhymes, as the saying of
them to others may often
cause them to think how beautiful is
the law of kindness ! META.
LACONICS.
KEEP aloof from quarrels, be nei-
ther a witness nor a party.
None have less praise than those
who hunt for it most.
If a man begin a fool, he is not
obliged to persevere.
If your money is your god, it will
plague you like the devil.
The heart has its reasons, which
reason does not apprehend.
Close thine ears against those that
open their mouths against others.
ABOUT HOKSES.
AFTERNOON HIDE.
ABOUT HOKSES.
TELL you about horses, Franky ? I
* suppose you want me to begin, Once
there was a horse named Dandy, and
so there was, but I can not tell any
story about him, only that his master,
who was full of poetry, said that he
was born of a rosebush. This you
will think was funny ; his master said
it only to show how beautiful he
thought him. But I think he changed
his mind somewhat about him, for Sir
Dandy was so gay, that he tipped his
master off his back one day, and seri-
ously injured him.
The horse is a favorite animal every-
where. Painters have delighted to
paint him poets to sing of him and
recently a lady artist, with a beautiful
name, " Eosa Bonheur," astonished
the English people, artists and all,
with the portrayal, on canvas, of her
thoughts and feelings concerning this
" universal favorite.
Wouldn't you like to see this noble
animal in his free, untamed state?
What a sight, grand sight, a troop of
wild horses, with head erect and
nostrils distended, stepping so proudly
the hoof touching so lightly the
earth that it seems to rebound, all
grace ! There is a real majesty in the
bearing of a horse of blood and spirit.
AMBITION.
Look at a fine horse closely, Franky,
whenever you can look in his eye
how expressive his nostril, too ! .
It is not a pleasant sight to see the
icorking class of horses in New York.
I think of all beings the omnibus
horses have the least to hope for
from the Battery through Broadway,
up, up, up one hardly knows where
Forty-second Street, and so on ; and
back again to the Battery pull, pull,
and slip, slip on the Etiss pavement,
whether wet or dry, it is slippery for
them. It makes me ache, to see such
a constant strain to hold up, aside
from the drawing of the load. They
often do fall ; and one in falling often
draws down his mate, and drivers and
bystanders work a long time, to get
them out from the tangled harness
and the mixed up heads and legs.
The draymen, at least some of them,
show much kindness to their one horse,
in protecting him from flies, and their
contrivances are so droll !
Some tie large wisps of straw to
each end of a cord, and hang across
the back of the horse, so that these
wisps, four or six of them like tassels,
dangle about his legs as he walks.
One horse has a breadth of white
cotton cloth, as wide as a sheet hung
across him, like a long shawl. He
would make a very good ghost, if it
were only in the night.
Think of a horse with pantaloons
on ! You may laugh, Frank ; I laugh
every time I see one. Where do you
think they are worn? Why,> on the
forelegs ; and being always too short
(a measure never having been taken),
it is most ludicrous as he steps ; like
some country bumpkin, all knees.
These pantaloons are pretty much
faded, and ragged too, having spent
their best days on the understanding
of the master.
You have heard of the fabulous
animal, half man and half horse, the
Centaur. I first thought of the Cen-
taur ; but that was supposed to have
the head and breast of a man, and the
remainder was horse; this was vice
versa, head of a horse over the legs
of a man. I can not tell you how
queer it does look the horse himself
would laugh could he look in the glass.
One I have seen with a frame over
him, and a cloth stretched upon it,
like an awning. This screened him
from the powerful sun, and shut away
many flies too, but you would think it
were some heathen idol approaching,
not in the likeness of anything on the
earth.
The utmost strain of imagination
could not make a Pegasus from any
of them. I am sure his wings never
flapped lazily against his sides.
A fine horse ought always to have a
name. When your pony arrives, he
must be named Tippoo. What say
you? L. E.
AMBITION.
AMBITION comes in many a form,
The sons of men alluring ;
The soul to thrill, the heart to warm,
And vainest hopes assuring.
At times it wears a woman's face
A woman's form of beauty ;
And then with thoughtful look and
pace
Assumes the garb of duty.
And then as changeful as the skies,
When summer suns are ended,
It holds to view a glittering prize
Of wealth and fashion blended.
But be thou wise do not wait
Trust not its goodly seeming ;
For many a one hath found, too late,
His life has passed in dreaming.
MRS. H.
UNCLE HIKAM S PILGKIMAGE.
THE ASTOR HOUSE.
UNCLE HIEAM'S PILGEIMAGE.
"DIDDING farewell to the American
^ Museum, I stepped out into Broad-
way, and was, for a time, not a little
confused by the rattling, and buzzing,
and hum of the living multitudes pass-
ing and repassing, and rushing up and
down, as if the goal of life was at one
end or the other of Broadway. The
contrast was not agreeable, passing so
suddenly from the quiet I had been en-
joying among the living and the dead
in this great storehouse of natural cu-
riosities. I soon became accustomed
to the din, however, and began to take
observations for my future progress.
St. Paul's loomed up darkly on the
other side of the street, a structure
neither imposing nor beautiful. A
statue of the great Apostle adorns a
niche in the pediment.
Frank. Does it look like Paul,
Uncle?
I don't know, Frank. In the first
place, I don't know how Paul looked,
except that he represents himself as
not very good-looking. In the second
place, the statue is so high up, that
you can not see what it looks like. If
it were a statue of Julius Caasar, it
would answer as well, so long as the
people accept it as meant for Paul.
In the church-yard, on the south
side of the church, there is a tall and
somewhat imposing monument, which
may be worthy of a passing notice. It
is an obelisk, twenty feet high, erected
in honor of THOMAS ADDIS EMMETT,
an Irish orator and patriot, whose
brother, Robert, was executed as a reb-
el in 1803. Thomas, escaping to this
48
WINTER.
country, was received with great eclat,
as one of a persecuted race, a martyr
to the cause of liberty. I was more
interested in this monument, that it
brought freshly back to my memory
my school-boy days, when I was ac-
customed to recite, with great power
of eloquence, as I then thought, a por-
tion of Eobert Emmett's reply to the
question, "What he had to say why
sentence of death should not be passed
upon him ?" It was a favorite theme
for our weekly declamations, and its
author was to us a sort of demi-god.
Thomas Addis Emmett became some-
what distinguished in this country as
a politician and a lawyer. His death,
which took place about thirty years
ago, was sudden and impressive. lie
expired, without a moment's warning,
while addressing the court at the City
Hall.
Passing St. Paul's, the next object
of interest is the Astor House, a fine,
large hotel, and one of the best in the
world. At the time of its completion,
some twenty -five years ago, it had no
equal. To it belongs the honor of
originating the modern style of palace
hotels. Others have arisen, since,
more imposing in extent, and more
elaborate in architecture and appoint-
ments ; but I greatly doubt if there
can be found in the world a house
more conveniently arranged, better
conducted, or more thoroughly fur-
nished with every appointment for
substantial comfort and reasonable
luxury.
The Astor is built of Quincy gran-
ite, and occupies the whole front be-
tween Vesey and Barclay streets, 200
feet, extending back on those streets
150 feet.
The amount of eating done within
those walls, in one year, would astonish
almost any frugal housewife.
WINTER.
OLD hoary "Winter has come at last !
Do you not hear him in that shrill
blast ?
He says, "I come to bind them fast,
Your streams and rivers, and to cast
My mantle over your hills so fair,
And gardens, look ! I'm already there."
And why are you here, so bleak and
cold?
I know jo\\v tricks, so sly of old !
You rob our fields of the flowers gay ;
You chase our beautiful leaves away.
fie ! to leave the trees so bare
1 know by their naked limbs thou'rt
there !
" Please stop, my friend, don't com-
plain so fast ;
Although I come in the stormy blast,
There are some pleasures to you I
bring,
That you would not find were it al-
ways spring :
' Thanksgiving' first, with its song and
cheer,
Then 'Merry Christmas,' and 'Happy
New Year;'
"The sleigh : ride swift, that lightens
care,
And the fireside joys, that all may
share.
But soon, quite soon, I too shall go,
With my icy face and mantle of snow,
And Spring and Arbutus will crown
the year ;
This, this is wherefore I am here."
MAEY Low.
SEEK virtue, and of that possessed,
To Providence resign the rest.
To all apparent beauties blind,
Each blemish strikes an envious mind.
CAEL; OK, A STORY WITHOUT AN END.
CARL;
OR, A STORY WITHOUT AN END.
CHAPTEE IV.
still followed Iris
I idle habits,playing with
W Carlo, racing over the
hills and meadows, un-
til he was weary, then lying
down under the trees or on the
sea-shore.
One day, while he was in his favor-
ite resting-place, under the great trees
in front of the house, he saw a spider
busily weaving its web round the
twigs of a dead limb just above him.
Gail watched all its move-
ments with great interest
for some time then he
cried out, " Oh, dear, how I
wish that I could know
where that little creature
learned to make his house!"
He looked again at the
dead limb, but the spider's
web could hardly be seen.
Then he rubbed his eyes,
thinking to himself, "I am
very sleepy, but I must see
that web finished." But in
spite of all his efforts the
tree, and limb, and web fad-
ed from his sight, and all seemed en-
veloped in darkness.
Suddenly everything was bathed in a
golden light. The trees became again
visible, and the web hung in the air
reflecting a thousand colors. Carl
was just ready to seize hold of it
when he saw, standing before him,
a beautiful little lady ; her long fair
NEW SERIES. VOL. V. 4
hair floated in curls on her shoul-
ders, her dress, light as gossamer, was
of rainbow hues, while golden wings
overshadowed her.
"Who are you?" cried Carl in
amazement.
f"My name is Fantasia" said the
bright being. " I know that you are
anxious to learn how trees and flowers
grow, and how birds fly, and ants and
spiders build their houses, so I have
come to help you. I can take you in
CARL AND CARLO.
one moment up to the clouds, over
hills and valleys, into the depth of the
ocean, and show you their treasures.
See my chariot!" and Carl saw that
she was holding tightly the reins of a
tiny chariot made of a sunset cloud.
It was struggling to be free, for though
there were no steeds fastened to it, it
was borne by the winds.
50
PLEASURES.
" Will you go with me ?"
Carl was just about to say " yes,"
when a deep voice behind him said,
"Nay, stop one moment, my son!"
and turning he saw a gray -haired old
man. His face was full of deep
thought, and a calm, peaceful light
gleamed in his eyes. "Stop, my
son! "he said. "Fantasia does very
well in her place ; but she must not
lead you altogether. Do not believe
that she alone can open to you Dame
Nature's dominions. I only have the
key, and you must follow me first, and
let me unlock the gates. Then, when
I have carried you as far as I can, you
may safely trust yourself to her."
"But what must I do to follow
you?" asked Carl. "Where is your
chariot ?"
"I have no chariot," replied the old
man. " I am called Mister Studiosus.
These are mine ;" and he showed Carl
piles of books, drawings and maps,
telescopes and many other glasses.
"Why, those are things my uncle
uses," said Carl, "and he shuts him-
self up in his study, day after day. I
want to live out of doors."
"That you shall," said the old man
kindly. " Now, decide. Will you go
with Fantasia wholly, or take me for
your guide first?"
"I will be wise once in my life,"
said Carl, and put his hand in the old
man's. But he looked wistfully at the
fairy chariot and its bright occupant,
as it floated away in the air above
him.
"Carl, Carl!" shouted a loud voice
from the house. Carl sprung up. The
rich light had faded the old /nan
was gone. The dew had begun to
fall, and Katrine was calling to him
that it was almost supper-time, and
too late for him to sleep under the
trees.
Carl walked slowly to the house,
and was soon seated in his own corner
of the sofa. He was very quiet,
thinking of his strange dream, watch-
ing listlessly the fitful fire-light gleam-
ing now and then on the dark book-
cases, and revealing their rows of old
books, here and there driving away
the shadows that always returned
heavier and deeper than before.
Suddenly Carl started. Surely in
the shadow just behind his grand-
father's chair stood the old man of
his dream. He looked again and
again. Yes, it was certainly he ; but
just as Carl was ready to speak, the
shadowy figure disappeared, and in
his place, leaning over his grand-
father's chair, and whispering to him,
was the little fairy Fantasia. Carl
sat perfectly still for very amazement.
His grandfather's head was resting on
the newly-stuffed chair, and his eyes
were closed, just as the little boy had
often seen him, as he thought, asleep ;
but the little fairy was whispering to
him, and sometimes he smiled as if
she told him pleasant things.
Carl had not recovered from his
wonder at this strange sight, when
Katrine came in with the tea urn.
The candles were lighted in the old
silver candlesticks, and the whole
room was full of light. The strange
figures had vanished, and they did not
come again that night.
PLEASUEES.
BUT pleasures are like poppies spread ;
You seize the flower its bloom is shed ;
Or like the snow-falls in the river
A moment white then lost forever ;
Or like the borealis race,
That flit ere you can point their place ;
Or like the rainbow's lovely form,
Evanishing amid the storm.
MIKE SMILEY.
51
MIKE SMILEY.
BY W. CUTTER.
" Such stuff are Yankees made of."
CHAPTER IV.
HE subject had tak-
en such a hold of
Mike's thoughts, that
it excluded all oth-
ers. He could not
sleep that night. He did not
even attempt it ; but sat down
near a little old table, and,
leaning upon his elbows, with his
face upon his hands, he endeavored to
measure the length and depth and
height and breadth of that awful evil.
For a long time he was overwhelmed
with its magnitude and omnipreva-
lence. To move it, seemed like re-
constructing the whole framework of
society. He did not know where it
was possible to make a beginning.
At length he remembered that nothing
was ever accomplished without a be-
ginning ; and beginnings always seem
very feeble and inadequate to their
endj And the world laughs at them.
But upon them all revolutions depend.
"And so," said he, striking his hand
upon the table with some violence,
"I'll begin; but how? where?" and
he pondered long and deeply, with
earnest prayer for help.
"Let me see," said Mike, at length,
as he broke from his revery, and
drew out a pencil and paper from his
pocket, " how much does it cost my
poor father every year for rum ? He
drinks, upon the average, and has
done so, probably, for fifty years, six
of rum a day. This, at four
cents a glass, is a quarter of a dollar a
day, or a dollar and three quarters
every week, or ninety-one dollars a
year. Ninety-one dollars a year!"
exclaimed the astonished youth ; " and
this, in fifty years, amounts to what?
impossible! FOUR THOUSAND FIVE
HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS ! !"
Mike was overwhelmed with the
results of these simple calculations.
"Four thousand five hundred and
fifty dollars ! for one man to consume
in making a beast of himself. What
a little fortune that would be!" Mike
went on. " The man who spends this
sum for rum, loses at least twice as
much every year in being unfitted for
labor ; and as much more in the waste
and destruction of his goods and
property the health and comfort of
his family, which result from in-
temperance. Here, then, is more
than twenty thousand dollars, which
one man has sacrificed to the appetite
for strong drink. And there are let
me think one, two, three twenty
men, in this poor, desolate village,
each of whom has been as deeply de-
voted to his cup as my father; and
what does all this amount to ? FOUR
HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS ! ! Ah !
I see through it all ; enough to make
every man a prince ; and this accounts
for the fact, that Tim Oochrane is the
only man in the village who owns a
decent house, or ever has anything
comfortable for his family. All this
52
MIKE SMILEY.
money goes into his pocket. Ah! I
have it I have it "
Mike could scarcely wait for the
morning, so eager was he to lay these
astounding results before his father
and the neighbors. They grew upon
his imagination every moment as the
night advanced; and, at the earliest
peep of day, having commended him-
self and his cause to God, he left his
little room, and sallied out into the
field, to refresh himself for the day's
work that was before him. He had
found a place to begin at, and he was
resolved, however hopeless it might
seem, to begin at 'once, and do what
he could.
He could not refrain from opening
his budget first to his mother ; for he
felt bitterly how terribly she had suf-
fered from that dreadful scourge. But
the poor woman had suffered so long,
that it seemed to her as necessary and
unavoidable as death. She had never
dreamed of release or comfort, but in
the grave. She stared wildly when
Mike told her of the money that had
been worse than wasted in that poor,
desolate place. She did not believe
there was so much money in the
world. "Ah! it is no use, Mike,"
said she ; " it's no use ; you might as
well try to stop the river flowing."
But 'Mike would not think so; and
he waited for his father to rouse him-
self from that death-like apathy. But
he found him a desperately hard sub-
ject. He would not believe the
figures. He would not believe any-
thing. Besides, he cx>uld as well live
without air as without rum. Mike
was as persevering as his father was
obstinate. He would not leave him
till he had made him count it over on
his fingers, and reckon it up for him-
self; and then he was obliged to ac-
knowledge, that his rum cost him
within a fraction of one hundred dol-
lars a year. He did not suppose, at
first, that he ever had so much money
in any one year of his life. He was
really alarmed. " But come," said he,
"let's go down to Uncle Nat's, and
see what he'll say to it."
Mike felt ready to face the whole
world, for he knew he was right ; he
knew that figures, if placed right, al-
ways tell the truth. So he accom-
panied his father to Uncle Nat's. The
smithy was next door to Tim Coch-
rane's; and there was never a shoe
set, or a nail driven, that Tim did not
reap the benefit of it. In that smithy,
before an audience of some ten or
twelve of the most ragged, squalid,
filthy-looking beggars that were ever
brought together in one place, out of
the alms-house, was delivered, by Mike
Smiley, the first teetotal temperance
lecture that ever was attempted in
these United States. The congrega-
tion was motley, irregular, and not so
thoroughly open to conviction as could
have been desired. It was some time
before Mike could gain anything like
general attention. But when Uncle
Nat, who was considered good at
figures, had examined the whole state-
ment carefully, marking it down with
chalk on the dingy Avails of his shop,
and finally, though very reluctantly,
was compelled to acknowledge that it
was entirely correct, the whole com-
pany opened their eyes wide with
astonishment, and stood gaping at
each other, as if they had lost the
power of speech.
At this moment Mike jumped upon
the anvil, with his paper in his hand,
and commenced a set speech. He
explained fully the results to which
his figures led, and showed clearly,
that there was not a man before him
who had not already expended in rum,
MIKE SMILEY.
53
and in the losses occasioned by rum,
a handsome fortune. He pointed to
their fields, which might have been,
if properly cared for, as rich and fruit-
ful as any on the banks of their noble
river. He pointed to their hovels,
and asked what made the degrading
contrast between them and the palaces
of some of the farmers of that beau-
tiful valley. He pointed to their
wives, who were little better than
slaves, leading a miser able, half-starved,
comfortless life, in the midst of a land
flowing with milk and honey. He
pointed to their children but he
could not sketch that picture and
then to their own persons, and the
sketch he gave of them was such as
actually made those hardened old sots
blush and feel ashamed to be seen of
each other. Mike saw his advantage.
" I am but a boy," said he, " and why
do I speak so ? Because I love you.
I am one of you ; bone of your bone,
and flesh of your flesh. There is my
father; and there, yonder" (wiping a
tear from his eye), "my poor old
mother. You are all my friends ; and
I can not bear to go back to the com-
forts and blessings which are provided
for me, in my new home, and feel that
I have left you in this unhappy con-
dition. Have I not told you the
truth ? Is it not rum that makes all
the difference between us? How
many comforts would not that hun-
dred dollars a year purchase for your
wives and children ! How differently
would your houses look if you should
spend it upon them ! How differently
would you look if you should spend it
in clothing, and in wholesome food!
How differently would this whole vil-
lage look if that four Mindrcd thou-
sand dollars, which you have drank
up in rum, had been laid out in im-
proving your lands, repairing and
ornamenting your houses, educating
your children, making your wives
comfortable, and making men yes,
making men of yourselves! Are
you men now ? Look at yourselves
look at each other are you men?
Do you look as if you had minds
souls hearts ?"
Surprised at his own boldness, Mike
jumped down from his rostrum, and
taking his father by the hand, begged
he would forgive him if he had spoken
too plainly. The whole audience was
confounded. They had been taken
by surprise. Every man of them was
convinced; but habit long indulged
gains a terrible advantage over con-
science. An impression was made,
but it needed to be followed up, blow
upon blow, to make it effective and
lasting.
Giant Zeb was the first to break
silence. "I tell you what, Uncle
Nat," said he, "the boy is right.
But what can we do ?"
"Do?" answered Tim Cochrane,
who stepped in just at this moment
from behind the door, where he had
overheard the whole; "da? come in-
to my shop, and I'll tell you what
to do."
The charm was broken in an instant.
In vain did Mike plead and beseech his
father not to go. In vain did he remind
them all of his figures. Uncle Nat led
the way, and all followed. What fol-
lowed that, need not be told.
WONDEKS OF THE EAST.
55
WONDERS OF THE EAST
ABYLON and Nin-
eveh were two mag-
nificent cities in the
far East. Their his-
4| %\ tory stretches so far back into
** ^j) time, that even the most an-
&~ cient records have but little
to say of them, and, for more than
2,000 years, they have been in ruins.
Babylon was built on both sides of
the Euphrates, and was fifteen miles
square. It was justly celebrated for
its walls, 350 feet high and 87 feet
thick, for its 100 gates of brass, its
hanging gardens, its temples, its altars,
and the wealth, pride, and glory of its
kings.
Nineveh was situated on the eastern
ground was occupied with gardens,
parks, vineyards, and fields for pas-
turage.
We learn more of the character of
these places from the Bible than from
any other source. And there we learn
why they were so utterly destroyed.
Within a few years some wonder-
ful discoveries have been made among
the long-hidden ruins of these great
cities, and it is interesting to notice
how entirely all these discoveries con-
firm the truth of the Bible, and verify
its predictions. There we find their
streets, their palaces, their temples,
their idol images, and pictures of
games, victories, etc., on the walls.
The engraving on the opposite page is
BAS-RELIEF FROM NIMROUD A WOMAN AND CHILDREN GOING INTO CAPTIVITY.
bank of the Tigris, about 280 miles
north of Babylon. It was 20 miles in
length, and 12 in breadth. Its walls
were 100 feet high, fortified by 1,500
towers, each 200 feet high. Its pop-
ulation was 600,000. This number
may seem small, compared with the
extent of the city. But it must be re-
membered that a large portion of the
from one of the walls of Konyunjik,
and represents a king riding in his
chariot. This cut is said to represent
a mother and children going into cap-
tivity. We are inclined to think,
however, that captives in those days
were seldom, if ever, accommodated
with any other conveyance than that
which nature gave them their feet.
56
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
Cfcat toiifc
^
r P/NE of the
IJ^^ most grati-
**fying features
of our Month-
ly Chat, is the
uniform and punc-
tual appearance
of so many famil-
iar faces. Some
of the good friends
who are always
on hand have held their places at our
table, year after year, from the be-
ginning always punctual with their
annual dollar, and never growing too old
to love young company. It is matter of
inexpressible gratification to us, to find
that those who have become attached to
us in childhood and youth, are unwilling
to tear themselves away, when those sea-
sons are past, and' other friends claim
much of their regards. They become
men and women they are married and
given in marriage they have their own
young responsibilities to look after, and
still they cling to their old Uncle, and
are never willing to be left out of the
" Chat." God bless them, and keep
them always young and always happy !
Here now is one who would have thought
it ? But she shall speak for herself.
ST. CLAIRSVILLE, Dec., 1857.
MY DEAR UNCLES, AUNT, AND
COUSINS : Really it's been so long since
I've seen you all that I feel like shaking
hands all round. But I'll have mercy
on you this time. And, now, first, I
must thank you, my dear Uncles, for the
prize you have given me. Indeed, you
could not have surprised me more.
Thank you a thousand times. And now
for my cousins. Thank you, cousin
" The Countryman ;" I'm quite well-
been well; have you ? And Uncle Joe,
how do you do ? My grandma never be-
headed crowing hens that I know of, but
grandpa shot one. By the way, some
"females" take the prefix Mrs., and my
husband insists that I have been Missed
quite long enough. There ! Don't every-
body look so surprised ? I never said I
was Miss. Ho ! There's another Willie
H. C. in the camp, is there ? And now
for a race ! Thank you, " Acorn ;" mine
in return. But I'll be brief. Hoping
you will not push me from the circle, now
that I have let out the secret of my be-
ing in possession of a husband, I will
close, signing myself,
An eternal friend of the MUSEUM,
BLACK-EYES.
Ten thousand blessings, Mary,
On you and yours descend ;
May you never know a sorrow,
And never want a friend !
NEW YORK, Jan. 2, 1858.
MR. HATCHET : Dropping into the
MUSEUM oflBce one fine morning, I re-
ceived the astounding intelligence that
Miss alas ! we shall Miss her no more
Black- Eyes had got my pen can hardly
write the words a HUSBAND ! The
astonishment of the old gentleman who
was killed by the descent of a turtle on
his bald pate (whereof we read in his-
tory) was probably great positive, no
doubt but mine was superlative. There
is no comparison between them.
Who would have thought that such a
wild bird, so impatient of restraint,
would have been caught in the toils of
matrimony ? But " Black-Eyes" has
found her match at last !
WILLIE H. COLEMAN.
As there seems to be some doubt re-
garding the right of Willie H Coleman
to represent us in the Chat, we desire to
state that he is authorized so to do, by
us. Hereafter no letter bearing our sig-
natures, which may appear in the Mu-
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
SEUM, will be genuine unless certified
by him.
We avail ourselves of this opportunity
to thank you, Mr. Hatchet, and your |
fellow-laborers, together with our
" twenty thousand cousins," for the
many happy hours which we have en-
joyed in your company.. Deeply re-
gretting that we are now compelled to
part, we bid you all farewell, and re-
main ever yours, t*t
TENNESSEE, November.
DEAR UNCLE HIRAM: However oth-
ers may abuse the basket, I confess I am
in favor of the " institution," for, by
means of it, our kind Uncles relieve us
of the necessity of reading what might
weary us. What's become of Alice the
man-hater ? I haven't seen her pleasant
(?) face this long time. I'm very sorry
if I have changed your opinion in regard
to the courage of Tennesseans, although
I should think, from the way they write,
you would have long ago come to the
conclusion they were, to say the least,
bashful, or afraid of meeting the war-
riors of the Chat. It is true, though,
that we Tennesseans won't bear beating
from any one but Tennesseans ; so " Sig-
ma " need not rejoice much.
I am not a Yankee, but for once I've
been guilty of guessing, having guessed
at Uncle Hiram Hatchet's alias. Is it
not Hiram D ? Please inform.
Love, to my Southern cousins ; respects,
to my Northern ones.
Your Southern friend,
TENNESSEAN.
That first sentence is worthy of a phil-
osopher. How could it have been writ-
ten by the same pen which wrote the
last ! ! You are not much a Yankee,
truly. Guess again.
WHITE COTTAGE, Nov. 7, 1857.
DEAR UNCLE FRANK : Welcome
home ! Didn't it look sweet, after being
gone so long ? But I do wish you had
come to see us in your travels. Won't you
do it next time ? I never wrote to you
before, though I know there is room in
your heart for one more niece. And I
want a place at your table, too. Can I
have both ? I would like to sit at your
side, too, if you please ; for, like Jerry,
" It always frightens me to have so many
bright eyes turned toward me when I
enter a room." What has become of Nip ?
Where has she hid hims&lf? Give my
warmest love to Aunt Sue. To all the
uncles and cousins Black- Eyes and Fleta
in particular and accept for yourself a
large share of the love of MARIE
BLAKELY, November 8th, 1857.
DEAR MR. MERRY : At last the MU-
SEUM has made its appearance, and al-
though I have anathematized the hideous
mails daily, for the last two months, its
joyous face proves as beneficial as a
Lethean draught. I thank you for your
early observance of my request. To the
welcomes of the few, whose memories can
stretch back to the year 1856, when I
occasionally crept into the ft Chat," let
me say :
" Black-Eyes." " Yes," with much unc-
tion, to all your requests, except that
concerning your "aid-de-camp," "Alice."
In that I can sympathize, deeply, but am
rather shy of doing that, for, in " days
of yore," I got into a scrape by such
" Good Samaritan- ishness."
Well, Mr. Coleman ! You'll do for the
"Grand Panjandrum" himself. The
girls have made such a fuss over you,
that it is all your high-mightiness can
do to bend your august head for a mo-
ment to an ancient friend. She appreci-
ates your condescension properly. Just
imagine her making the deepest of rev-
erences, and uttering, " Pretty well, I
thank you, sir," in the meekest of voices,
and the tableau is complete.
Why, f*t, I am surprised at your
verdancy. I received a telegraphic dis-
patch from " II Signer Petrarcho" but
yesterday ; in prose, however, and insinu-
ating, alas ! that I was getting too super-
annuated to make sonnets, it didn't pay.
The wretch! adding insult to injury,
wasn't it ?
" Adelbert," while you are settling
with Uncle Sam, give the old curmudgeon
a few for me, will you ?
Well, I think I'd better stop now, or
I will certainly be among the " school-
fellows" " kept in" for disobeying rules.
Yours, in a hurry,
" LAURA."
Laura, dear, do you remember who it
was who said of a certain lady, that
" he did not know which to admire most,
her personalities or her personality ?"
58
MEBBY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FJRIENDS.
A NEW LOT OF CURIOSITIES FOR THE
SHELVES OF THE MUSEUM AND CAB-
INET.
A few stitches taken in coat of paint.
P. Jones.
A log from the drift of a discourse.
P. Jones.
A fish from the stream of life. H. L.
A pebble from the hill of science.
H. L.
A corn from the foot of a mountain.
H. L.
Tears from a weeping willow. H. L.
A lock of hair from the head of a dis-
course. H. L.
A feather from the bed of a river. H.L.
A shingle from the roof of the mouth.
H. L.
A shoe for the foot of a tree. H. L.
A button, from a coat of paint. H. L.
A glass of spirit from the bar of pub-
lic opinion. C. W.
The contents of a box on the ear.
C. W.
AKRON, 0., Nov. 6, 1857.
DEAR UNCLE : I have your little
paper from its commencement. It was
born the same year that I was. Having
grown up with it, and having no brothers
nor sisters, I feel a kind of sisterly af-
fection for the little playmate. I kept
all the numbers and got them bound, so
that they make me quite a library.
Truly yours, ELLA S. BIERCE.
That is right, Ella dear. We wish all
our youug friends in the country had
such a library.
WINCHESTER, VIRGINIA.
DEAR SIR : I saw mentioned in the
Drawer of the October number of the
CABINET a curiosity which I acknowl-
edge is a great one ; but I think I have
as great a one, if not greater. I planted
a convolvulus vine and a cypress vine
near each other. After a while the
cypress vine grew into the convolvulus,
and cypress blossoms grew out of the
convolvulus vine. I shall save the seed,
and plant it next year, and see what it
will bring. ROBT. BARTON.
Very good, Robert. Send us some of
the seeds, and we will try them too. We
will call the cypress North, and the
convolvulus South ; and so we will have
the Union saved one and inseparable,
now and forever.
H , MINNESOTA, Oct. 23, 1857.
DEAU UNCLES, AUNT, COUSINS, ETC. :
Permit an entire stranger, though a
constant reader of the CABINET, to ad-
dress you all. Auntie, dear, your name
is not Goodrich, is it ? Don't / know ?
Isn't it ? Any way, that's my
opinion. Uncle Frank, what a pleasant
trip you are having (or were), and why
don't you come to Minnesota ? To be
sure there are no railroads, which would
be a serious objection ; but then How
many years does it take, Uncle Hiram,
to perform that pilgrimage of yours ? I
am afraid you won't come as far west as
I am, so / shall not see you. Uncle
Robert, what do you do with so many
nieces and nephews ? Don't you get
tired of them ? " W. H. Coleman," you
are a " cane," most certainly. " Bess, 3 ' I
should like to see you. Where have you
kept yourself all this time ? " Cousin
Hannah," ask Edith, Lucy, Jessie, and
the rest, if you aren't a very dear,
obliging cousin. " Lillie Dale," you are
not the one that the song " Lily Dale"
was written for, are you ? You are not
" 'Neath the chestnut tree, where the
wild flower grows !" are you ? " Fleta,"
you are a "pose" decidedly. Aunt Sue,
if you want my love you may have it. I
should like to see you at my house ; ditto
Uncles three. Love to all cousins Lily,
Bess, and all Eyes, with all the rest of
the 20,000. My eyes are blue, but you
will not want another of that name, so I
sign myself,
Yours, very affectionately,
PRAIRIE BLOSSOM.
Uncle Hiram expects to get through
his pilgrimage some time before Che close
of the century. Uncle Robert never gets
tired of young folks, and never can have
too many of them about him.
LE ROY, ILL., Nov. 2, 1857.
DEAR UNCLE FRANK: I was very
glad to hear that you were at home
again, after your long journey. I hope
you will tell us all about your travels
in the wilderness. Didn't you feel as
though you were out of civilization ? I
am not very much obliged to Uncle
George for his conundrum on my own
name. It would make me " older" than
the world itself. I guess Walter won't
challenge that " Sharp" Hatchet to make
a pun on his name again. His challenge
MEKRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
59
reminds me of an anecdote of Hazlitt,
who, when in the presence of the actor
Kean, said that no one could make a
pun on his name. " Pshaw !" said Kean,
" what shall we say of the man whose
genius has lit his age of the world?"
How " keen" that was ! Your nephew,
ADELBERT OLDER.
ANDOVEH.
DEAR UNCLE FRANK : Will you
please move a little, and let me come into
your circle ? I would so love to become
more intimately acquainted with the
" Merry" family ! I am a very social
girl, and love fun and frolic, and as I
have been so well entertained by the
wit and humor of the cousins, and have
received so much good instruction from
the wise Uncles, through the CABINET
(a welcome visitor at the parsonage), I
can't but wish to be right in your midst.
I will only occupy a little space.
Please offer love to Aunt Sue, and the
nieces and nephews, from me, and keep a
good share for yourself and Uncle Robert.
JENNIE J. JOHNSTON.
There you are, Jennie, and Lou with
you, fairly seated at the table, where
your places shall always be kept for you,
and your voices always be welcome.
ZUMBROTA, MINNESOTA.
DEAR UNCLE : I write to tell you
how happy I am to receive the MUSEUM
more so than ever, now that I am so
far from you. I came here with my
parents last June. We live in the beau-
tiful valley of the Zumbro. I made a
short call, with my father, at your office
a while before we came here. Do you
recollect me ? I enjoy living here as
well as I did in Brooklyn, though there
are not so many people here. We have a
good minister, and a Sabbath-school that
I love. My father is also teaching a
singing-school, and I have fine times with
my mates. We expected to have a cold
winter, but so far it has been mild and
pleasant. Yours affectionately,
ABBY M. S .
Remember you, Abby dear ? Indeed
I do. It is not often that I forget a visit
from any of my young friends. I hope
I may be able to return it, next summer,
by calling on you I hope your village
won't outgrow itself into a city before
that time. Ask your father why his
singing-school is like a poor piece of poet-
ry by the village poet. I'll tell you, in a
whisper, so that he can not hear It
makes the village music (muse sick).
HADLEY, MASS., Dec. 5th.
MY DEAR UNCLE FRANK : Years
have passed since the CABINET first glad-
dened our Green Bay home long enough
quite, I think, to allow me the privilege
you grant to all of being owned as your
little niece. I should have claimed it
long before, had I been older ; but hav-
ing not heard of the famous " extension
tables," so popular in these latter days,
I was afraid I should take somebody^
place. You visited my dear home this
summer, away north, on the sunny Fox,
and when I saw " Green Bay's" name in
the Table-Talk, the spirit moved me to
write to you, and tell you how well I
love the CABINET, Aunt Sue, and Uncle
Frank. I am here attending " Hopkins'
Academy," but still, most constant of all
old friends, the CABINET comes, with its
abundant contents, things both new and
old, funny and grave, to while away a
few moments after an evening of study.
With much love, ever yours,
LOTTA E. PORTER.
Uncle Frank is off in the far West
again. But Lotta is welcome to feel as
much at home, as if her old friend were
here to say so.
FLORENCE, MASS., Dec. 6, 1857.
DEAR MR. MERRY : Have you room
for one more " Nephew ?** If so, I ask
permission to enter.
From your would-be nephew,
ADRIAN.
By all means, Adrian, come in, and
come always.
MAD.SON C. H., FLA., Dec. 9, 1857.
DEAR MR. MERRY: Allow me to
peep into the Chat. Laura, how could
the " dear old MUSEUM," as you (and I
too) call it, be bettered when it was best ?
Badger, did you dare to venture, as
Georgian says, into " hoop range ?" You
and W. H. C. North are audacious fel-
lows indeed, daring. Georgian, wel-
come why is it that more of the sunny
Southerners do not assist in enlivening
the Chat with their letters ? I hope our
60
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
Southern W. H. C. will be able to cope
with W. H. C. North. Romantic Nip,
you chat so sweetly, that if I could get
near you I should feel tempted to a kiss.
Yours truly,
ALONZO C. WHITNER.
" The Sunny South" is coming up. Do
you second the motion of the member from
" Texana ?" Here comes another
SPRING GROVE, FLA., Dec. 7, 1857.
DEAR MR. MERRY: I have just re-
ceived the MUSEUM for December, and,
as I do not go to school to-day, I have
concluded to take a seat (if welcome)
around the Merry table ; and if you will
command order, I wish to say something.
Who is this Nippinifidget ? I don't know
whether he is much of a Nip, but he has
the fidgets certainly. Laura wants to
know whether Original Bess was one of
the CABINET Curiosities, or a School-
fellow. I can tell her. She was one of
the CABINET Curiosities ; but the hatchet
is raised, and somebody is knocking at
the door, so I will go out at the window.
Give my love to Aunt Sue.
Yours, JAMES S. CARRUTH.
We keep our windows closed in winter,
so we can't let you out that way.
HOUSTON, Dec. 25, 1857
MR. MERRY : When I received the
December number of the MUSEUM, I
commenced as usual at the Chat, and
had read a little way, when I saw the
name " Texana." Wonder who that is !
Read a little further, and lo ! W. H.
Coleman. Whew ! What times we shall
have now ! Let me get out of the way !
Such were my exclamations when I saw
the epistle from " W. H. C. South" (as
Uncle Hiram afterward designates him).
I read a little further, when lo ! Uncle
Hiram steps in and reconciles the " two
Colemans." That is good. I thought
we should have had some quarreling,
but it is all hushed up by Uncle Hiram.
Wishing you and Uncle Hiram, my cous-
ins Badger and Bay States, and all the
rest of the " Merry family," a " Merry
Christmas" and a " Happy New Year,"
I bid you adieu. STAR STATE.
SPRINGFIELD, ILL., Dec. 10, 1857.
DEAR MR. MERRY: My father has
been a subscriber to your MUSEUM for
the last ten years, and on that ground I
crave an introduction to the Chat. I see
there are but few representatives of our
State, and in the last number but two
Green-Eyed Nettie and Miss Annie Drum-
mond, both from Chicago. Why is it, Mr.
Merry, there are no more subscribers in
the State, or are they laboring under the
delusion that the Monthly Chat is made
up by the Editors of the MUSEUM ?
Yours truly, HARRY G .
Whatever reasons your neighbors have
for keeping away, Harry, you can assure
them there is room enough, and a ready
welcome.
OGDENSBURG, Jan. 1, 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY : You can't im-
agine what fine times we had at our
festival last evening. It consisted of the
scholars of the First Presbyterian Sab-
bath School, and the Mission School, with
their parents and friends. Our pastor
and superintendents of the school made
short speeches. AVe were assembled in
Eagle Hall, the largest in the place. It
was beautifully decorated with ever-
greens and flowers, and evergreen-mot-
toes. There were six prizes given to
those scholars who brought the most
children into the Sabbath-school. The
first prize, an elegant Bible, was given to
the one that brought in the most. The
table was splendidly decorated and loaded
with dainties, and surrounded with trees
bending under the weight of cornu-
copias, one at least for each child.
This is nameless, but interesting.
Uncle Hiram witnessed a similar gather-
ing on Christmas eve, when many young
eyes were delighted, and many young
hearts made glad.
KINGSBORO', Jan. 1, 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY : A happy and
merry New Year to you all ! I pre-
sume it will be both a happy and a merry
New Year, for you are always merry. I
siippose you have plenty of snow in New
York, as we have here. If you should
happen to visit Kingsboro' you will find
abundance of snow. I hope this will not
discourage you from coining. Perhaps
the snow will all melt away. Good-bye.
EMMIE M. JOHNSON.
We will take the summer for it, Emmie.
Love to C. W. J. and all the rest, not
omitting the new friends, whose names
you sent us.
MEKRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FBIENDS.
61
/ UTICA, Dec. 15, 1857.
DEAR UNCLE : I should like very
much to have a private interview with
you for one moment no, what i< the
use ? I might as well out with it first as
last. I have noticed, with regret, the
many " young gentlemen" who of late
have been asking introductions to the
numerous female cousins of the MUSEUM ;
and, fearing lest I should be too late,
have at last broken the bonds of bash-
fulness, and beg that I may also be in-
troduced to some of them. I know that
there must be some left, and now, dear
Uncle, just see that I am acquainted with
one who has beauty and kindness com-
bined, and I will trust the rest. I'll live
in hope for another month.
COUSIN FRANK.
In our circle, Frank, there are none
who will not answer your requirements.
v7e, therefore, introduce you to the whole
family, and leave " the rest" with you.
FLUSHING, Jan., 1858.
DEAR UNCLE FRANK : I am very
much disposed to find out whether the
" Chat" is really a " public institution"
or not, for somehow I don't quite under-
stand it. I have my suspicions that
these interesting little letters are com-
posed for the occasion by our revered
Uncle Frank, the beloved Aunt Sue, or
some other members of the " Union."
Be that as it may, I think you can not
but admire my determination to search
" if these things are so." Please be so
kind as to solve my doubts, whether
Willie Coleman, Fleta Forrester, etc.,
are " real live" persons. If they are so,
may / be 'permitted to join them some-
times ? Truly yours, LINA.
Real, live persons, Lina, every one of
them, and they are so many, that even
our capacious heart sometimes has mis-
givings of its ability not to take them
in, but to do them all justice. Come
and try it, Lina. and we will introduce
you to the whole family.
Did you consider what a high com-
pliment you were paying us, in supposing
us capable of writing all this variety of
letters, and sustaining all this variety
of characters ? Verily, you flatter us,
and we blush.
TEXAN A, TEXAS, Dec. 16, 1857.
DEAR UNCLE MERRY : I am some-
what at a loss to know whom to speak to,
there are so many cousins on every side.
Tell " The Countryman" not to be afraid.
We will go in together ; they will make
no remarks about our hair, coats, elbows,
etc., if we are neat and tidy in our dress
and appearance. I agree with Uncle
Hiram in being a pacificator. We must
put in a petition to Congress to have
Texas moved up close by. We must have
harmony and brotherly love, and, in the
language of Webster, possess, with Pres-
ident Merry and his CABINET, if not
with Congress, Union now and forever,
one and inseparable. Set Congress an
example. Hurrah for Union, President
Merry, and his CABINET !
Yours in the bonds of Union,
WILLIE H. COLEMAN, South.
Why, Willie, you are getting rather
too near to politics. If you go much
further, we shall have to build a " plat-
form." Well, the MUSEUM should be
one of the planks, anyhow, and that one
plank would be enough, without any
other.
BROOKLYN, Jan. 1, 1858.
DEAR Mn. MERRY : I send you my
dollar for the MUSEUM. I almost forgot
it, and was just going to spend my
Christmas dollar, when my mother re-
minded me that if I wanted the MUSEUM,
now was the time to pay for it, for she
says it must be expensive to publish such
a nice book once a month for little folks.
I hope they all pay promptly.
MADGE.
That is right, Madge dear ! If all the
mothers were as considerate as yours, it
would materially lighten our labors.
N. Y., Jan., 1858.
Happy New Year, Mr. Merry ! I am
almost tempted to write you a great,
long letter ; but then I imagine I see
Uncle Hiram frowning at it, and thrust-
ing it under the table ; so it won't do. I
wonder what will become of some of
your circle if that ten-line arrangement
goes into force. Am I not brief enough ?
Yours truly, COUSIN N.
Short and sweet, Cousin. We don't
mean to say that, if shorter, you would
be sweeter; but Why is a letter like
pie-crust ?
62
MERKY 8 MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
BROOKLYN, Dec, 25, 1857.
MY DEAR CONSOLIDATION :
From " mature consideration,"
And due deliberation,
I have concluded
That the late agglomeration,
(After long disintegration,)
And the close concatenation
Of the Muse-o-Cabin-Parfey,
Schoolfellow, too, must surely
(E'en though it rhyme but queerly,)
Be
Unless I'm deluded
(In which case, you know, I'm not repre-
hensible,)
As paying a " spec." as it is indispensable
Tome.
There's that " corps editorial"
Deserves a memorial,
Though a spice dictatorial,
'Bout "brevity:"
Uncle Sue, Hirat Hatchem,
Aunty Frank (let me catch him !)
And Aunt Merry who'll match 'em
For gravity ? (!)
Now that you're " consolidated,"
Don't let your prices get " inflated ;"
Dcn't let your vanity
Run off with your sanity,
Nor your friends 'gratulations
Lead to endless jactations,
Or sky-high " quotations"
Of " consols /"
I really hope, whichsoever aunt or uncle
you are who peruse these pages, that
you are invulnerable to personalities,
otherwise I have but small hope of the
acknowledgment of this rigmarole? " olla
podrida," or whatever-you-choose-to-call-
it. Be that as it may, I've had my say
(can't help it!). Laura, what do you
mean to insinuate by saying that I'm
" corner-ish ?" I live at least three doors
from any " corner." Thank you, Nettie !
(If you're really " green-eyed," you're in
the same box with me.) Certainly, I in-
tend to be a " bright, particular star!"
Will somebody, will anybody who knows,
tell me something about the fate of my
(meant to be) "prize" enigma, or select
conundrums ?
Uncle Frank! but I haven't time
now some time or other I'll talk to you.
Do you want, or expect, dear Consol. , any
translation of Doctor Franklin's financial-
pictorial- (your doing ?) letter ? Here is
one, (Simply) BESS.
Simple (?) Bess will please excuse Un-
cle Hiram. His hatchet was just ground
for the new year, and he couldn't help it.
BALTIMORE, Jan. 11, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE HIRAM : I wish you,
and all my aunts, uncles, and cousins, a
happy New Year ! When I wrote to you
last, my little cousin Juliet was only a
week old, and now she is running about,
and is sweeter than ever.
I am very much obliged to you for the
Snow-Bird Song. I knew it before, but
not the accompaniment. I am glad to
have it, because I am learning to play
on the piano-.
I think Charlie is the prettiest name
for " M. E. W." to call her little brother.
Your niece, CLEMENTINE.
INDIANAPOLIS, Dec. 4.
DEAR UNCLES, AUNT, AND COUSINS:
I have long wished to become one of
the Merry family, but am somewhat
bashful, and have not dared to intro-
duce myself.
Like " Jerry Miah," I am apt to make
mistakes. I am often mortified to find
myself saying " yes, sir !" to a lady, and
similar blunders.
You can not imagine with what plea-
sure I read the " MUSEUM," especially
Uncle Merry's Chat.
Please introduce me to "Fleta"
softly, softly, lest the others should look
round, and thus make me more bashful.
Yours affectionately,
TIMID BIRDIE.
P. S. Merry Christmas to all the
Merry family. T. B.
Be quiet, Birdie! don't flutter so.
We will give you a snug nest in the
" Corner," and Alice shall take care of
you.
COMMERCE, Jan. 7, 1858.
DEAR AUNT SUE : I think I may
claim a place in the circle of your cor-
respondents for old acquaintance sake, as
I have been a subscriber to your mag-
azine ever since it commenced, and have
always read it with the greatest interest.
Many are the enigmas, charades, etc.,
whose mysteries I have unraveled ; many
also are the labyrinths whose mazes I have
threaded.
Your affectionate nephew,
GEO. H. HOPKINS.
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
63
Answers to Questions in Dec. No.
206. They are always on bended knees.
207. They frequently .resort to the
" Hatchet," to find their " Wood's
worth."
208. When she is a-gent.
209. One reflects without acting, the
other acts without reflecting.
210. It is farthest from the bark.
211. Two demi-johns.
212. It makes him yell " ohf (yellow).
213. It is a poor trait (portrait).
214. It must be broke before you use it.
215. When it rises, it is light.
216. I should be D-lighted.
217. Time.
ANSWERS RECEIVED FROM :
Percy W. H. C. Ogdensburgh Phi
H. A. Danker A. Older E. F. R.
Oscar B. Acorn C. F. W. R. Stevens
C. C. Waters-C. M. W. Harry G.
Missouri George S. A. Brown Vox
L. 8. T. Susie X. Carrie E. Hal.
Fred. Geo. Steritz Timid Birdie Geo.
H. H. Adrian James J. J. Kate Cur-
tis Tim. AndrewS. Simeon N. S. R.
J. C. Hookey Red Wing Mary N.
Lu. Sandy Bess.
Questions, Enigmas, Charades, etc.
13. Why is a modern lady like a barrel ?
E. P. A.
14. BUDGET OF ANAGRAMS.
1. A short mile. 2. Cash is empty.
3. A strange poem. 4. Mother's
pain. 5. Sisters enough. 6. A sin-
gle thing. A. Older.
15. Why is a sick baker impolite ?
A. Older.
16. My first is a preposition; my first
and second is a river in Asia; my
third we must do to be successful ;
my whole is necessary to success.
A . Older.
17. Why is the letter N like an Irishman
running ? Geo. B. H.
18. I am sometimes the slave, but gen-
erally the master, of man ; and
though in myself evil, all are cen-
sured that lose me. When a slave,
I am obedient ; but when a master,
my servants are as entirely under
my control. What am I ?
Missouri George.
19. Why is an unmarried lady always in
the wrong ? Missouri George.
20. What is the difference between a de-
stroyed town and an ascended bal-
loon ? Missouri George.
21. Why was the first day a very long
one ? Oscar R.
22. Soli soli soli. H. C. Bate.
23. Why did Joseph's brethren put him
in the pit ? Cousin H.
24. Why can not the letter V be seen .'
A. Older.
25. What reason has Sir Colin Campbell
to feel happy ? C. W.
26. Why is one egg sufficient for a
Frenchman's breakfast ?
Kate Curtis.
27. What is the difference between a
physician and a magician ?
28. What is that which is always com-
ing, but never comes ? C. W.
29. My first denotes a well-known feast,
Long held sacred in the East ;
Done to umbrella or book, 'tis plain
You'll ne'er be able to do it again.
My second is a word complete,
Which in conversing all repeat,
A word, and yet so very small,
One letter taken away you have it
all.
My third posses ed by everything,
Man, beast, hill, dale, lake, and
spring,
Tho' 'tis strange, 'tis strangely true,
It's never found the same in two.
My whole an adverb in optics known,
Its parts I've given the whole now
shown
Arouse your thinkers and scowl your
phiz,
While you study to say what the
secret is.
30. My first must grace a legal deed,
With its companion firm and red ;
Its help in marriage too they need,
Before the blessing can be said.
My second half a hundred is,
If in the shortest way you spell ;
You soon must guess me after this,
I may as well the secret tell.
My whole, by his celestial strains,
Bears the rapt soul to worlds above ;
The Great Creator's power proclaims,
And tells of the Redeemer's love.
BOOK NOTICES.
BOOK NOTICES.
THE choice of a book, whether for a
child or an adult, is a matter of no
light responsibility ; and he who,
without good reason, recommends a
book to a family of 20,000 or more,
has much to answer for. As caterers
to the intellectual tastes of the young,
we feel that we can not be too careful
in guarding them against the insidious
influence of what is wrong, as well in
selecting and presenting for their read-
ing only that which is useful or in-
nocently amusing.
Of " The Aimwell Stories" we have
several times spoken in terms of high
commendation. We have now, for
the fifth number of the series
MAHCUS; or, the Boy -Tamer. By
Walter Aimwell. With illustra-
tions. Boston : Gould & Lincoln.
.Its leading object is to illustrate and
enforce the duty which the elder
brothers and sisters of a family owe
to the younger, and the happy in-
fluence they may exert in seconding
and strengthening the efforts of par-
ents in their training. While the nar-
rative is full of entertainment and
interest for the younger readers, it
will be found highly suggestive to
parents, teachers, and such " older
children" as may wish to know how
they can repay, with interest, the
watchful care and indulgent kindness
of the parental love which guarded
and guided their early years.
A TEACHER'S GIFT; A TEACHER'S
OFFERING ; A TEACHER'S PRESENT ;
A TEACHER'S TOKEN. Boston.:
Brown, Taggard & Chase.
Four pretty, neat, well-selected,
and pleasantly illustrated little books,
from the hand of one of the most ex-
perienced and successful Sabbath-
school laborers in New England.
Well adapted for premiums to the
younger classes in the Sabbath-school.
BOYS' AND GIRLS' ILLUSTRATED BIRD
BOOK. By Julia G'olman. New
York : Carlton & Porter.
The title of this book is suggestive,
at once, of beautiful pictures, interest-
ing stories, love, music, poetry, and
useful information. We need only
say, further, that the book is true to
its title, and will prove a welcome and
judicious addition to any juvenile
library.
Six STEPS TO HONOR ; or, Great
Truths Illustrated. By Rev. P. H.
Andrews. New York: Carlton &
Porter.
The "Six Steps" which are here
shown to lead to " that tall eminence"
are: 1. Obedience; 2. Truthfulness ;,
3. Honesty; 4. Kindness; 5. Energy
and Perseverance ; 6. Piety. We can
not, and need not, do more than to
say that the steps are well taken,
happily defined, forcibly illustrated,
and clearly shown to be in the power
of all to take who aim at true honor,
and are willing to " strive" for its at-
tainment. We commend it heartily
to our family.
WOODWORTH'S VIENNA LAMP, for burn-
ing Coal Oil.
In these times we take pleasure in
recommending anything in the way of
domestic economy. And we fully be-
lieve, after trial, that this improved
lamp will furnish a cheaper light than
any other now in use. The oil is not
explosive. A gallon of it, costing $1,
will burn 160 hours, and give a good
center-table light. It is decidedly the
tiling for family use. Sold by D. A.
Woodworth, 118 Nassau Street, K Y.
PET IN A PET, AND HOW SHE GOT OUT OF IT.
65
PET IN A PET, AND HOW SHE GOT OUT OF IT,
SHE seemed a little angel,
When first your view she met ;
But, with all her sunny sweetness,
She had learned to pout and fret :
Her name was Bel Petrina,
But they fondly called her Pet.
Her sister was Louisa
They called her Bonnie Lou ;
Her brothers, Ned and Harry,
Were gentle, kind, and true ;
Pet was very, very pretty,
But she was pettish, too.
One day, as all were strolling
About the pleasant wood,
Each trying to please the other,
As brothers and sisters should,
Pet turned away and left them
In a very unhappy mood.
Suddenly dropping her basket,
And flinging down her hat,
In an April shower of passion,
By the side of the brook she sat,
When something within her
whispered,
" Pet ! Pet ! I don't like that."
NEW SERIES. VOL. V. 5
The breezes fanned her temples,
Fresh, soothing, soft, and cool ;
Her pouting lips reproached her,
Eeflected in the pool,
And something within her whispered,
" Now, is not Pet a fool ?"
" Ah ! so I am," Pet answered ;
Then away, like a bird, she flew,
And said, " Dear father, forgive me
Kind brothers, and Bonnie Lou,
I will be Pet no longer,
But gentle and kind, like you." H.H.
66
MIKE SMILEY.
MIKES KESOLVE.
MIKE SMILEY.
BY W. CUTTER.
' Bach stuff are Yankees made of."
CHAPTER V.
"II IKE made a very prudent use of all
*** the little savings of his wages, in
putting the house into more comforta-
ble order for his mother. He made
ready to return to the city, with a hea-
vy heart, hut with a firm resolve, to try
what he could do in the cause he had
now so earnestly undertaken. Cross-
ing the fields, as a shorter way to the
stage-house, he paused on a little knoll,
which had been one of the dreaming
places of his boyhood, and looked
around. Behind him was the wretch-
ed and desolate house he was leaving.
Before him, the spire of the old church,
and, in painful contrast by its side,
the gable of Tun Oochrane's house,
were in full view. "God helping me,"
said he to himself, " I will see that
church repaired, and Tim Cochrane a
better man, or a better man occupying
that house. I will make the place too
hot, or too good for him, as he is."
Then, with an earnest prayer for help,
he went on his way, in the full strength
of a noble purpose, and a living hope.
When he returned to Mr. Ralston's, he
took an early opportunity to call the
attention of that gentleman to the
figures he had made at home. Mr.
Ralston, though a temperate man for
those days, was astonished at the re-
sult. He gave the subject his serious
attention. He assisted Mike in getting
at some further statistics upon the
subject. Mike pursued it with the ar-
dor of a man whose heart is in his
work. The farther he proceeded, the
more he was astonished overwhelm-
ed. At length, he ventured to put his
investigations into the form of an es-
say, which he sent to one of the lead-
ing journals of the city, with the sig-
nature, " Total Abstinence."
That article was the leader of one
of the mightiest revolutions that ever
MIKE SMILEY.
67
swept over the face of society. It
was copied into all the papers. It at-
tracted universal attention. It was
talked of in all the streets, and at
every table, and at every fireside. It
was fiercely attacked on every side,
and that by some of the ablest pens
in the nation. But its positions were
impregnable. Not one of them was
ever refuted, or even so much as
shaken. They are to this day the
grand colossal columns that support
the central dome of the Temple of
Temperance.
This essay was followed up by others
by the same hand. And when, by-
and-by, it came out that the mover of
all this far-reaching excitement was an
humble lad scarcely nineteen years of
age, in an inferior station in society,
the excitement became still deeper and
more general. Mike was called out
not to fight, as would perhaps have
been the case if all this had happened
elsewhere but to explain himself
more fully.
So well had he availed himself of
the advantages to which his relation
to Mr. Ralston had introduced him,
that he did not hesitate, after consult-
ation with that gentleman, and re-
ceiving his approbation, to propose a
public lecture. This was attended by
a crowded audience, who were com-
pletely astounded at the fearful picture
of the then state of our country. So
many desired to hear it who could not
be accommodated, 'that it was neces-
sary to repeat it. Then it was called
for in other places. Everywhere it
produced a marked impression. It
excited inquiry. It provoked discus-
sion. It led to self-examination.
Mike's hands were now full. He
had made his beginning, and a noble
beginning it was. But where was it
to end? What was the remedy for
the tremendous evils that were con-
suming the vitals of society. On this
point, the young orator allowed no
compromise. It was " total absti-
nence!" and he laid it down with
great emphasis, showing clearly that
this was the only ground on which
the intemperate could ever hope to
become temperate, or the temperate
to remain so.
The results of that grarfd moral
movement are well known. Look
abroad over our fair land, and see mil-
lions of acres then arid and sterile,
now blooming and fruitful ; thousands
and tens of thousands of hearths then
desolate, now cheerful and bright as
the early remembrance of home
countless broken widowed hearts made
whole by the returning sunshine of
love and plenty, and whole families,
yea, whole communities, then dispers-
ed, divided, hovering around the pur-
lieus of the alms-house or the prison,
now gathered, united, industrious, in-
telligent as it were a nation born in
a day, or a whole tribe redeemed from
servile bondage. Men, fathers, hus-
bands, legislators, teachers, once rav-
ing, delirious, fierce, brutal, now cloth-
ed and in their right minds, risen as it
were from the second death, and stand-
ing erect, beloved and honored, in the
high places of our land.
Discouraging as was the prospect in
his native village, Mike did not de-
spair. He was frequently there, and
so diligently and faithfully did he ply
the arguments and persuasions of a
heart warm to the life in his subject,
that he succeeded, at length, in obtain-
ing a solemn promise from his father,
that he would try the experiment for
one year. Zeb Smiley was a man of
more than ordinary natural abilities,
and his resolution, once taken, was
proverbially unchangeable. By his
MIKE SMILEY.
influence, Uncle Nat was brought to
the same stand. Both of them signed
their names to the same paper, and
thus each became a sentinel over the
other. The whole neighborhood of
tipplers was in consternation. Tim
Cochrane was in a rage. His craft
was in danger. In his passion, he
pounced upon Uncle Nat's forge and
tools, to secure the balance of his
score at the counter, and turned him
out of his shop. The effect of this
was salutary. Uncle Nat and Zeb im-
mediately went off together at the
suggestion of Mike, and, by his aid,
secured a valuable contract for labor
in clearing a new road, which furnish-
ed full and profitable employment for
the whole season. They labored side
by side, encouraging and strengthen-
ing each other. And daily, as the
effects of their old habits wore off,
and their strength, physical and men-
tal, increased, they found their toils
grow sweeter and lighter. Mike con-
tinued his labors in the village, till he
Behold the change ! The wretched hut becomes
A cheerful cottage, and a happy home
The brute, a man the woman, little less
Than a bright angel sent that house to bless.
A TRUE ENGLISH GAME-COCK.
69
obtained the names of more than two
thirds of the old topers to his pledge.
By the aid of Mr. Kalston, he set up
a temperance store, which was kept
by one of his cousins ; and, before the
year was out, Tim Cochrane was
obliged to move away, for want of
custom to sustain his business.
Go through that village now, and
what a change ! The houses are all
neatly painted or white-washed, the
fences in good repair, the fields waving
with plentiful harvests, or green and
blooming witli the first promise of the
year. The daily gathering of bright-
faced, happy throngs of children to
the school-house, and the Sabbath
meeting of a grave, decent, devout
congregation of parents and children
in the house of God, all tell of the mar-
velous, the almost miraculous change
that has come over the scene. If the
story had been told fifty, or even
twenty years ago, it would have been
set down for fiction a picture that
might look well on paper, but could
never be reduced to real life. But we
have seen it with our own eyes. We
know the spot. We know many of
them ; and if it is worth a voyage
across the Atlantic to see Herculane-
um and Pompeii recovered, all dead
and silent and soulless, from the burial
of ages, what is it not worth to the
heart of the philanthropist, to see
hamlets and villages and towns recov-
ered from a moral burial, and not
only dwellings and fields and gardens
thrown open to the reviving light and
showers of heaven, but their occu-
pants restored to life and health and
beauty, and men, women, and chil-
dren, husbands and wives, fathers and
mothers, young men and maidens, re-
joicing together, and blessing God and
each other, in their marvelous resur-
rection from the dead ?
A TRUE ENGLISH GAME-COCK.
THE following anecdote of the be-
havior of a true English game-cock,
during the action fought in St. Do-
mingo Bay, by Admiral Duckworth,
in 1806, is related on the authority of
an officer of the Superb, commanded
by Oapt. Keates : " On the poop-deck
of that ship was a large wooden fabric,
forming an oblong hollow square, and
so constructed that the upper apart-
ments served for marine arms, and the
lower for poultry. Now it happened,
in the very hottest of the engagement,
while we were closely engaged with
the three-decker (L'Imperiale), that a
twenty-four pounder double-headed
shot broke through this useful com-
pound structure, destroying no less
than twenty-seven stands of arms,
and making terrible havoc among the
feathered race ; splinters, bayonets,
broken muskets, etc., prevailed in all
directions ; when lo ! from the midst
of this ' confusion worse confounded,'
up sprang this gallant cock, till then
' unknown to fame,' and perched on
the spanker-boom, crowing exultingly.
Another shot, cutting the boom in two,
at his feet, now drove him from his
post. Indignantly retreating a few
paces aft on the broken poop, again he
fixed his stand ; and thence, ever and
anon, was heard his clarion voice to
sound amid the 'din of war.' This
appears strange, you will say, and yet
it is not altogether singular. A cir-
cumstance nearly similar took place
in the Marlborough, on the memorable
1st of June, 1794. I say nearly sim-
ilar, because, in that instance, the
bold bird was sound, though not safe,
whereas our little hero was found to
have received many contusions, and to
have lost an eye, ere he extricated
himself from the ruins of his house,
and the sad wreck of his messmates."
AFRICA.
71
AFEICA.
DR. LIVINGSTONE'S JOURNEYS AND RESEARCHES IN SOUTH AFRICA.
HIS valuable and in-
teresting work, re-
cently published by
Harper & Brothers,
opens to view one of
those " unknown regions,"
which we have been accus-
tomed to people with the dark-
est forms of savage life, or to look upon
as arid desert, and utterly uninhabit-
able. Like similar revelations of other
intrepid explorers, it lifts the dark
curtain, which has hitherto hung, like
a pall, over large portions of our globe,
and introduces us to new scenes, now
forms and phases of human life, and
new developments of the great prob-
lem of human society. It is full of
the romance of adventure and novelty ;
and, while it fills and satisfies the
cravings of curiosity, as it proceeds,
leaves you, like a wholesome meal
when the digestion is good, with a
healthy appetite for more.
Dr. Livingstone's travels extended
from the Cape of Good Hope, in lati-
tude 36, through the center of South
Africa, to Loando, on the Atlantic, in
latitude 8 ; and from Loando, south-
eastwardly, retracing his steps about
half the way, to Quilimane, on the
Indian Ocean, opposite the central
part of Madagascar. The whole dis-
tance traveled must have been some
4,000 miles. The incidents of the way
were many and varied. The country
was sometimes hard and sterile, and
sometimes fertile and very beautiful,
diversified with hill and valley, lake
and river, and abounding in fruits and
flowers. The natives were sometimea
hostile, and sometimes hospitable. His
adventures among them are full of
novelty and thrilling interest.
The most exciting of his adventures
were those in which the wild animals .
of the country had a share. One of
them is represented by the accompany-
ing engraving. It occurred near Na-
liele, on the river Seeba. " Proceed-
ing along the shore, at mid-day, a
hippopotamus struck the canoe with
her forehead, lifting one half of it
quite out of the water, so as nearly to
overturn it. The force of "tiie butt she
gave tilted Mashauaua out into the
river. The rest of us sprang for the
shore, which was only about ten yards
off. Glancing back, I saw her come
to the surface, a short way ofi^ and
look at the canoe, as if to see if she
had done much mischief. It was a
female, whose young one had been
speared the day before. No damage
was done, except wetting persons and
goods. This is so unusual an occur-
rence, when the precaution is taken to
coast along the shore, that my men
exclaimed, ' Is the beast mad ?' There
were eight of us in the canoe, at the
time, and the shake it received shows
the immense power of the animal in
the water."
It would appear that the poor beast
meant no harm, but only a gentle hint
that the river was her proper domain,
not to be navigated by light canoes,
without a license.
THE FIE8T FALL OF SNOW.
Of the lion, he says: "Nothing that
I ever learned of it, would lead me to
attribute to it either the ferocious or
the noble character ascribed to it else-
where. With respect to its great
strength, there can be no doubt. It
would seem, however, to be inferior
to that of the Indian tiger. Most of
the feats of strength that I have seen
performed by lions, such as taking
away an ox, were not carrying, but
dragging or trailing the carcass along
the ground. Messrs. Oswell and Var-
don once saw three lions endeavoring
to drag down a buffalo, and they were
unable to do so, for a time, though he
was then mortally wounded by a two-
ounce ball."
The encounter, as related by Vardon,
took place on the banks of the Lim-
popo. Vardon had started and shot a
buffalo, who turned and fled, followed
at a rapid pace by the huntsmen. As
they came in sight of him, these lions
leaped upon him from the jungle. lie
bellowed lustily, and kept up a kind
of running fight, for some distance,
overpowered as much by the shot he
had received as by the lions. As they
began to tear him to pieces, Vardon
and his companion came up, killed two
of the lions, and drove the other off.
"It is not often," says Vardon, in his
narrative, "that one lags a brace of
lions and a bull buffalo in about ten
minutes. It was an exciting adven-
ture, and I shall never forget it."
To commend to general reading a
work replete with such incidents as
these, and full of information respect-
ing hitherto unknown regions and
tribes, would seem to be unnecessary.
It ought to be in every family and
school library. It would be read with
avidity, like a novel. It is illustrated
with a large number of engravings,
two of which we have been permitted,
by the kindness of the publishers, to
present with this article.
It has also two valuable maps. It
opens a wide field of interest, not only
for the scholar, but for the Christian,
showing immense fields for missionary
labor, "already white to the harvest."
Let our young friends take down their
maps, now, and look at Africa. See
how little is known of any portion of
it, except .a narrow border running
along the coasts ! How blank and un-
certain all that vast space, inclosed
within those narrow borders! And
say, if you would not feel an intense
interest in having it laid open before
your eyes, mapped out, and described
by one who has personally traversed
it, and tells you only what he saw, and
what he knows to be true. For keep-
ing young folks awake and interested,
and stirring them up to reading and to
action, commend us to well-written
voyages and travels, and narratives of
personal adventure.
THE FIRST FALL OF SNOW.
THE snow had begun in the gloaming,
And busily all the night
Had been heaping field and highway
"With a silence deep and white.
Every pine and fir and hemlock
Wore ermine too dear for an earl ;
And the poorest twig on the elm-tree
Was ridged inch-deep with pearl.
From sheds, new roofed with Carrara,
Came chanticleer's muffled crow ;
The stiff rails were softened to swan's
down,
And still fluttered down the snow.
I stood and watched by the window
The noiseless work of the sky,
And the sudden flurries of snow-birds,
Like brown leaves whirling by.
ROBIN HOOD.
ROBIN HOOD.
As bold Robin Hood, with eight merry
men,
Was ranging the forest, the mountain,
and glen,
He came to a hostel, that stood on a
moor,
And loudly he thundered and knocked
at the door.
"Up, up, Mr. Boniface, 'tis folly to
feign,
And give me some grub for my eight
merry men.
We're weary with fasting and eating
dry peas,
So your good wine and wassel bring
out, if you please ;
And lest you should fail to abound in
good cheer,
We've brought you a haunch of King
Richard's good deer.
One blast from my horn would bring
from the glade
Six hundred true men as ever drew
blade ;
Then woe to the churl who would treat
us with scorn
He would swing on a tree at the
dawing of morn."
The landlord came out with his trusty
broadsword,
And gave them a welcome to locker
and board ;
In all their demands he was forced to
'quiesce,
But he liked not their logic much,
nevertheless ;
So with many a tale of the Merry
Greenwood,
And the sayings and doings of bold
Robin Hood,
There was wine in the goblet and alu
in the pot,
As he dished up his supper, and all
piping hot
They ate and they drank, but ne'er
thought of time,
Till the bells from the kirk told at
midnight the chime.
All merry with wine, bold Robin
Hood said,
" Give each of my eight men a canny
good bed ;
I'm fagged by the chase and weary
with mirth,
All wrapped in my pladdie I'll lie by
the hearth."
Up spoke Mr. Boniface : " My house is
but small,
I have beds only seven you're wel-
come to all."
Then the eight merry men, full of
frolic and fun,
Started off for the beds to see who
could get one.
Then Friar Tuck seized on bed num-
ber one,
Which Little John claimed, and a
battle begun ;
With kicking and boxing they'd many
a bout,
Till Tuck, being strongest, kicked
Little John out.
Meantime number three took bed num-
ber two,
And man number four to number three
flew,
And man number five bed number four
seeks,
While number seven seizes on bed num-
ber six.
Then Little John, finding the floor
rather hard,
To bed number seven contented re-
paired.
So each of the men had a bed, aa you
see
Pray how does the count with the
landlord's agree ? I. M. W.
UNCLE HTRAAI8 PILGRIMAGE.
UNCLE HIRAM'S PILGRIMAGE.
ADZING at
the Astor
House pro-
voked in
me some-
thing of an
appetite
for dinner.
But I was
doomed to
wait some
time, be-
fore tasting it. As I was crossing Vesey
Street, I met an old friend, the first
familiar face I had seen among the
many thousands that had passed me
in my pilgrimage. He seized me cor-
dially by the hand, and, though mov-
ing very rapidly when he came up,
seemed in no haste to go on. He
turned back, and held me a long time
in conversation about the great city,
its singular history, wonderful growth,
wealth, wickedness, etc. He was an
old man, and very talkative. He was
born in New York, and had always
resided there. He had heard his fa-
ther and grandfather relate many cu-
rious and interesting incidents of its
early history, and seemed to have the
whole story at his tongue's end. He
was particularly interested in talking
of its rapid growth, and showing how
steadily and powerfully it had been
expanding into the acknowledged me-
tropolis of the Western world.
His grandfather's memory extended
back almost to the time when the old
Dutch government was superseded by
the English. In an old almanac, which
he carried in his pocket, he showed
me a sketch of the city as it was in
1664, when it contained 1,500 inhab-
itants, and occupied only so much of
its present territory as lies below Wall
Street. In truth, it did not occupy
more than half that space, for a large
part of what is now covered with
buildings was then water.
This cut shows us the East River
view of the Battery, or Market Field,
as it was then called. The fort on the
NEW TOEK IN THE OLDEN TIME.
UNCLE HIEAM S PILGRIMAGE.
left was called Fort Amsterdam by the
Dutch, and Fort George by the En-
glish. The gallows, standing in sol-
emn loneliness on the shore, shows
that New York, even in its youth,
was not as virtuous as it should be.
It would occupy too much time and
space to tell you all that my friend
had to say; but it will help you to
form some idea of the strides the city
has taken toward the country, to re-
member that the Astor House is about
half a mile above Wall Street, and
about four miles below the great " Cen-
tral Park," which may perhaps be re-
garded as the present limit of the city
on the north, though destined, by-
and-by, as the name given it imports,
to be its center.
Standing on this point, we were
continually jostled and disturbed by
the crowds passing up and down.
New York as it is was continually
withdrawing our attention from New
York as it was. I could not help re-
marking to my friend the seeming
earnestness and activity of the pass-
ers, saying, that every one appeared
to have an important object ahead,
which he was bent on accomplishing
at once.
" Oh!" said he, "that is all appear-
ance. Not one in twenty of them
have any object at all, except to see
what is passing, and to occupy time."
" Is that possible ?" I asked. " How,
then, do they support themselves ?"
" Your last question is more than I
can answer," he replied ; " and one
half of these people would be as much
puzzled to answer it as I am. The
first I can answer at once, and give
you proof that I am right."
" How will you do that ?" I asked.
" I can stop five hundred, or a thou-
sand of them, on this spot, for half an
hour, or more, anil not one of them
shall know why they stop, or what
they are looking after."
So saying, he stepped to the edge
of the side-walk, drawing me with
him. Then, pointing toward the sky,
just over the Museum, he said to me,
earnestly, " There! don't you see it?"
Instantly some twenty or thirty per-
sons gathered around us, each asking,
" What is it ?" The number of idle
gazers and questioners increased at
every moment, and in about two min-
utes, the walk was so crowded and
crammed, that no one could pass, and
all new-comers were compelled to stop.
Not one in twenty of the crowd knew
why they were stopped, or how long
they would be detained ; and very few
of them cared, as long as they had
something new to excite them.
It was amusing to hear their ques-
tions and conjectures, some of them
given in a tone of positive earnestness,
as if their very lives or fortunes de-
pended on knowing what strange thing
had happened.
" Ha !" cried one. " I see it."
"What? What? Where?" cried
a score at once.
"There ! over the Museum. I vow it
it is a balloon, with an elephant in it."
"Nonsense!" said his neighbor.
" You don't see any such thing. The
balloon never was made that could
carry an elephant."
" That's as much you know," re-
plied the other. " Pray, did you never
hear of Rufus Porter's balloon, that
was to carry fifty men to California in
two days ?"
" Was to!" growled the impatient
objector. " Did he ever do it ?"
Having accomplished his object, my
friend took me by the arm, and drew
me aside, to continue his story of
"the Olden Times."
In his enthusiasm, he forgot that
UNCLE HIRAM 8 PILG11IMAOE.
that I had not had my din-
ner. From one story to
another, he carried me
quite back to the first dis-
covery of the Bay and Kiv-
er, in 1607 ; then, nothing
would do but he must show
me a picture of Hendrick
Hudson, in his quaint, old
dress, with a sketch of his
ship, the Half Moon, as she
lay at anchor, oif the High-
lands, surrounded by large
numbers of Indian canoes.
The brave old navigator
thought, as Columbus did,
that he had reached the far-
ther India, and that the " River of the
Mountains," as he called it, came down
from the heart of its golden regions.
on a pilgrimage, with my pack
hand, and he did not know
78
UNCLE HIRAM 8 PILGRIMAGE.
The early settlers had many diffi-
culties with the Indians, owing chiefly
to the avarice and injustice of the
new-comers, and to the effect of the
"fire-water" Treaties were made
with them, at various times, only to
be broken, on the first and slightest
pretense. The Indians, not knowing 1
how to read, depended upon the white
men to make, declare, and explain the
treaty. And then, when any difficulty
arose, it depended upon the honor and
honesty of the white men to make a
fair cawe of it. Whatever may be said
of the cruelty of the red men, their
provocations were many and great. It
TREATY WITH THE INDIANS.
UNCLE HIRAM 8 PILORIMAGE.
INDIANS PAYING TBIBUTB.
certainly was not necessary to rob
them of their lands, as they were dis-
posed to sell them very cheap. For
seventy-five dollars and that, per-
haps, in rum and trinkets they sold
the whole island of ISTew York.
The old Dutchmen were shrewd
in making bargains, but they were
not very careful to keep on the right
side of the Indians. They often pro-
voked them to acts of violent retalia-
tion, and then made war upon them,
as if they had been first to % offend.
The Indians were noble-looking men,
some of them, and worthy of a better
fate. With all their fantastic costume,
they do not appear to much disadvan-
tage by the side of the Dutch governor
and his council. If the Indians had
been the artists in this case, they might,
perhaps, have drawn a picture still
more favorable to their ancestors. As
it is, 'the history and the illustrations
are all the work of the "palefaces ;"
and, bad as it appears for them, they
have probably made out the best case
they could.
My friend occupied me so long with
theae old matters, and' entertained me
so much by his enthusiasm and his
anecdotes, that I did not move from
the spot where we first met, where I
shall now be obliged to leave you,
having no more time at present.
80
A SATCHEL FULL OF UNEASINESS.
A SATCHEL FULL OF UNEASINESS.
OU wonder
what this
title means.
I will tell
you.
Fanny and
Cousin Lot-
tie, with sat-
chel on the
anu, started
fur a long
walk. The
satchel was to bring home two prom-
ised kittens for the little Fanny.
They walked up Grand Street, and
looked, and talked, and enjoyed. As
they passed by the burying-
ground, Fanny, as usual, ran
up the stile, and walked and
ran upon the flat top of the
broad stone wall, while Cousin
Lottie kept on the sidewalk,
and helped Fanny to come
down at the end of the wall.
On and on they went, till they
came to the large gate with the
great iron hook ; they walked
through it, and up the little
hill that led them to the door
of a very kind family. The
man was a gardener. Oh, such
a nice green-house as he had !
Cousin Lottie often walked
through it, and often sat an
hour in March, the month of
howling winds, and when the
flowers were such a delight.
Sometimes, when kind-heart-
ed Charley brought for her a
chair, and she sat all alone, she
would lean her head upon the
chair arm she had no other
arm to lean upon and weep so sor-
rowful ; and then she would look up,
and all was so still and an auric-
ula, and a daisy, and a primrose, and a
carnation, and a rose would seem to
be looking right at her ; and they were
so sweet, and looked so hopeful, she
would smile and think they were her
friends ; and they were, for they
brought her good. But I forget the
kittens.
They had been promised to Fanny
for a long time ; and Mary Ann ran to
the barn, and drew them out from
their hiding-place. Prettier kittens
you need not to see. You would have
said the cat-mother had an eye to the
raging fashion, in the color she had
dressed them the most complete yel-
THE KITTEN.
low brown, "tan color," as fashion
said. One of them had not a hair of
any other color, to the tip of his tiny,
A SATCHEL FULL OF UNEASINESS.
81
squirming, sharp-pointed tail ; and the
other was lined or striped with white,
and all the rest tan.
Cousin Lottie and Fanny were de-
lighted. They laughed and admired,
and the kitties mewed.
"Well, they were put in the satchel ;
and it seemed to the fixers as if it were
as good a place as they could have ; but
the kitties had no such thought, as you
will see.
The lid was fastened by the center
lappet, as if sandwiches and fruit were
inside, for a pic-nic ; and with satchel
on Fanny's arm, they commenced a
return homeward, with the charming
presents. Cousin Lottie had now and
then a misgiving as to the probabil-
ities; but the thing must be done.
After a dozen steps, the squirming and
the mewing began. Kitties seemed to
have made up their minds very decid-
edly that it should be no go. Directly,
one head was out from the opening by
the side of the lock.
It was put back carefully, and out
came the other. And so they went it,
alternately, and together. Lottie's
shawl would slip down, and while
pulling that on, Brownie and Stripe
were half out the satchel, and all four
hands were busied poking them back,
in the quickest possible manner. No
time for carefulness. Here they were,
only about a quarter of the way home,
and the kitties were perfectly rebel-
lious.
" Oh, for a boy," says Lottie. "Oh,
for a boy," says Fanny, " that has no
shawl and parasol to carry."
They called to one on the opposite
walk. He could not; go; he was on
lis way to school.
Up pops Brownie's head, mew mew
mew; the Striped, out two paws,
and mew mew mew.
They looked then for some passing
NEW SERIES. VOL. V. 6
hack, which they might use ; for Fan-
ny said she had money to pay for it,
and things were becoming desperate.
After a time they found a hack near
the tall poplar trees ; and you may de-
pend it was a relief to get the pussies
inside its walls. As they mewed and
squabbled so in the satchel, one had
an idea that they were talking of their
forsaken mother, and pleasant home on
the garden hill ; but after they had
looked about a while in their new res-
idence, by a little imagining, Brownie
seemed to say, " "Well, Stripey, what
think you? This is much smarter
than the garden on the hill-side, and
the bedroom in the barn."
" What large, nice trees! How we
will run up there, and just look into
those pretty birds' nests; and," said
Stripey, "what nice walks in this
large garden, covered with the pound-
ed stones! Mud and sand will not
stick to our paws as we frolic there.
How much time it will save us, not to
have so many feet to clean, every time
we take a run ; but, boo what comes
there? Oh, Brownie, see that great,
great dog!"
Two or three hairs rose up on
Brownie's back ; but it seemed very
useless, for Watch walked along as
cool and dignified as if they, too, were
under his protection, and he would
scorn even to appear ferocious to the
defenseless ; and he turned his hazel
eyes upon them, so that they felt quite
comforted.
Then "Dick" the dove passed along,
curving his pretty neck, and picking
up crumbs in the court, and they
thought his white coat and red boots
were so pretty. Then Dick flew away
to the roof near Fanny's window, and
out came the visitor, "Trip." Not so
very quiet times were there now, for
Trip was a great frolicker, and being
THE STOLEN HAT.
on a visit with his auntie, he had
no work at all. He was not very
beautiful, Brownie thought ; but it
might have been seen that he had
been washed and combed with his
auntie's fine tooth-comb ; and then,
had Brownie only known, in addi-
tion, that he always slept inside the
sheets with his auntie, it would have
been quite certain that he was a
good dog ; and truly, " handsome is
that handsome does," and that's the
way Trip comes by his beauty.
But Trip showed himself very spry,
and not really quarrelsome to the new-
comers ; and when Abby brought the
saucer of milk for them, they had every
appearance of feeling quite at home.
After all was over, Cousin Lottie
had a thought ; if kitties are to be
carried in a satchel, never to stir with
it till it was sewed up (as the woman
did her drunken husband in the sheet)
all across, with small breathing-holes.
Let me tell you, children, unless you
would do something never to be for-
gotten, don't try to bring home kitties
with the satchel lid only locked down.
Oh ! oh ! mew mew. L. E.
THE STOLEN HAT.
HALLO ! there my hat ! my hat !
Old Rover has stolen my hat !
It is nice it is new,
And what shall I do,
If he spoils my nice new hat ?
Here, Rover ! come back ! come back 1
Or you will repent it, that's flat ;
I've got a big bone,
But you shall have none,
Unless you bring back my new hat.
"Why, what can the saucy dog mean,
To run away so with my hat ?
I'll whip him, I will,
And I'll give him his fill,
And show him I can not stand that.
Well, isn't that funny ? The rogue
Is up to a frolic, you see ;
With a smirk and a bow,
And a saucy bow-wow,
He has brought it back safely to me.
MY KITTY.
" Dear Kitty," says I, when I go
home at night ;
And kitty looks up so cheerful
and bright.
She's so kind and so gentle, so
glad when I come,
That I often say, " Kitty's the
light of my home.''
THE SMOKE AND THE KITE.
83
THE SMOKE AND THE KITE.
" Sermons in Btones, and good in everything."
OW beautiful! how
very beautiful ! " ex-
claimed the Smoke,
as it came dancing and leap-
ing out of the red chimney-
fyv' pot. " "What a glorious thing
J* it is to live /" and it tossed it-
self about in the cool evening breeze, as
though it would have sung for joy.
" What is so beautiful ?" asked a
Paper-kite, whose tail had got entan-
gled among the stacks on the house-
tops, and who was lying between the
slanting tiles, looking very deplorable ;
"who is it finds anything 'glorious'
here t
"Why, /do," said the Smoke, bend-
ing down again in graceful curves, "/
do ; only look at the beautiful blue
sky, almost covered as it is with red
and golden clouds; see how grandly
they sail along how much they seem
to know ! how many things they can
see how "
"What nonsense!" interrupted the
Kite, " as though there were anything
out of the way in that. Why, the
sky's always up there, it never goes
away, docs it ? What is there in that
to make such a fuss about?"
"Do not you think it beautiful,
then?" asked the Smoke, in surprise;
" oh, it is like a new life to me !
" Where can you have been poking
to all your life?" put in the Kite;
"here am I, entangled among these
detestable old bricks, and must rot
away here forever, I suppose. What
can possess men to build their ugly
houses so high, interfering with all the
enjoyment we Kites ever have, as
though they couldn't be content with
the ground they stand on! But it'a
just like them, and this is the conse-
quence of their pride. There never
was a Kite in the world that has not
had occasion to complain of the stu-
pidity of house-building. As soon as
we mount up to our proper element,
and are beginning to feel at home,
somebody or other, or something, is
sure to be so envious as to pre-
vent our getting any higher. Either
the string is too short, or it gets en-
tangled round some stupid thing, or it
breaks, and then no matter to them
what dreadful frights we get it's all
the same whether we come down alive
or dead. There was my own brother,
the most beautiful Kite that ever had
a tail, and exactly like me, who was so
rudely shaken by his enemies that,
though making all the haste down he
possibly could, he was suddenly thrown
into the sea, whence he never rose
again. And here am /, doomed to
suffer a still worse fate ; now scorched
by the sun, then battered by the rain,
or unmercifully kicked by the wind
really I never was intended for such
rough usage, and what beauty is there
for me, I should like to know ?"
" Ah I if you only knew where I
have been," said .the Smoke, kindly;
" but I dare say you do find it very
THE SMOKE AND THE KITE.
hard to bear, more especially as you
have been a plaything all your life."
Now the Wind whispered to the
Smoke to come higher up, and it cer-
tainly did look very inviting up there.
" 2'ake me, too," said the Kite, and the
Wind did raise one corner, but it was
of no use ; the tail held it fast down,
so that it could not rise.
"Never mind," said the Smoke ; " I
will stay with you a little while."
" Yes, and tell me something inter-
esting, for I can never hear anything
up here," grumbled the Kite.
So the Smoke told him
"MY OWN STORY"
IN THESE WOKDS.
"I remember belonging to one of
the largest trees in an immense forest.
I was the trunk ; but I can not re-
member much of that long-ago time ;
it seems only like a happy dream in
fairy -land, where everything was bright
and beautiful. I recollect, when this
had lasted some time, a longing came
over me for something higher, nobler,
I hardly knew what but when I
listened to the beautiful songs of the
Wind, I felt discontented that they
were not sung to me. I wished I were
a bird that I might answer them. I
envied the branches in which they
played, and the leaves at the top, that
could see so far. I became jealous of
the bright flowers and the green grass,
because they were bright and green;
indeed, everybody seemed to be better
off than /. In vain, when the leaves
were blown, they whispered words of
peace and contentment as they fell;
they even envied me the strength and
lastingness of my nature, but I was
very foolish, and it was all in vain.
In truth, I was a grumbler. Oh, I lit-
tle thought then, what was to happen
afterward. I should have been more
contented, had I only known.
"Well, one day a terrible noise
seemed to fill the air ; there were fear-
ful commotions all round. I saw the
most gigantic trees thrown up like lit-
tle pieces of stick, and instinctively I
clung tighter by my roots to the ground ;
then I remember a dreadful wrench
then I was thrown up as if in mock-
ery, high, higher than ever the leaves
had been .... then, down, down,
down-going as though without end, in
such darkness, such hot, close air 1
Well, at last we stopped; we had
reached a bottom somewhere ; but the
rocks were heaped over us pell-mell,
crushing us down with their tremen-
dous weight.
" Grumble, grumble, grumble this
was all I did, but it was of no use
down in that silent darkness ; so I left
off at last, but still even then, for some
while, I fretted to myself.
" I can not stay now to tell you all
about that long, long time it seemed
as though it would last forever ; nor of
the noiseless, unceasing change which
was working upon me, almost without
my knowing it ! How much, how very
much I learned, which I never knew
before, which I can never forget, from
those dear, firm old Eocks ! How they
taught us to be patient first, and to
wait ; and how, while we were wait-
ing thus, our very natures changed,
while thoughts of the bright future
that was coming made us strong and
how busy we were in getting ready
for it!
"Ah! it seemed a weary time to
wait for, but we were growing fitter
for it every day (though we did not
know what days meant THERE).
"It came at last a noise knock
knock knock knock and then
and then a ray of light ! Oh, what
a joy to us! Hundreds and hundreds
of years had passed since we had seen
BEAED8.
the light, and now it shone for us once
more. Ah ! the dear, bright, beautiful
light no one but God could make such
a glorious thing ! Then we looked on
each other, and saw the change which
we had only felt before.
"And men with their heavy tools
came down; there was some rough
handling to pass through, but I was
strong enough to bear it then without
grumbling. Soon I was drawn up, up
the long, deep mine in a basket. I
reached the top. The sun shone on
me like a kind, old, faithful friend, and
I could answer his beams with bright-
ness. I even shone in colors, and that
was quite enough to tell him how
much had happened to me since last
we met.
" Still I had to practice the patience
I had been learning a little longer.
We were dragged a long way, so
closely packed up that it was impos-
sible to see anything. We only heard
strange sounds, which we could not
understand, and felt how very fast we
were being whirled along.
"For the last few months I have
been lying in the coal-cellar of this
very house; but even there I have
learned a great deal of men and things,
which we never knew in the dark
mine.
"It was there I heard of the one
sharp trial awaiting me, by which I
was to serve mankind and raise myself
to a new life. It seemed very terrible,
but when the time came I was ready
for it. I felt the .-red flames curl round
me together we made a bonny fire.
'It is Christmas Day,' the children
said, 'it is Christmas Day!' They all
seemed so happy. And as they sat
round the hearth, sucking oranges,
guessing riddles, cracking nuts and
jokes, I smiled upon them in my pain,
and murmured a song from between
the bars .... (I think one little boy
was listening to me.). ... It is over
now, I am so happy. But I have
other work before me, and . . . ."
" Come, come," said the Wind,
"you are wanted this way; make
haste, make haste."
"Good-bye, good-bye," whispered
the Smoke, as he rose. "Be patient
and humble; learn something from
everything ; grow strong at heart, and
when next we meet you will be 'hap-
pier /"
"Good-bye," said the Kite, "good-
bye;" and he did not feel sorry that
it was growing quite dark, and that
the silent night had come, for he had
great thoughts to think!
IIow he thought them, and what
good they did him, will make a story
for another day.
QTJEKY. Is not your philosophy
rather smoky, Mr. Smoke? My an-
swer may also " make a story for
another day." HIKA.M H.
BEARDS.
A CERTAIN baron who gloried in a
tremendous pair of red whiskers, had
collected his friends for a hunting
party at his chateau, and, wishing to
show his wit and amuse his guests, he
called a gardener who was working
near, and who wore no beard, and ask-
ed him why he could not wear a beard.
"Sir," replied the peasant, "when
the good God gave out the beards, I
came a little late ; the light, the brown,
the black, were all distributed, and
none remained but red. I preferred to
go without rather than have one of
such color !"
The baron was surprised to hear the
laughter of his friends, for he was quite
unable to see the joke.
86
DIFFERENCE OF TIME.
DIFFERENCE OF TIME.
TTOWEVER brightly the sun may
. shine, he is able to light but half
the earth at a time. Hence, when it
is day on one side of the world, it is
night on the other side. This fact my
young readers have thought of a great
many times. But aome of you may
not be able to tell me, when it is noon
here and midnight in China, what
time it is a part of the way round the
world, in Europe, or in the Sandwich
Islands. If you will get your, slate and
pencil, I think we can figure it out.
The earth turns around in 24 hours.
This makes the sun seem to go around
the earth in the same time. You know
it is 360 degrees around the earth. If
the sun seems to move 360 degrees in
24 hours, how far will it seem to move
in one hour ? Divide 360 by 24 and
you will get the answer 15. Every
15 degrees, then; east and west, makes
a difference of one hour in the time.
The sun seems to move from east to
west, passing over places east of us be-
fore it reaches our meridian. Hence,
when it is noon where we are, it is 1
o'clock P.M. 15 degrees east of us, and
11 o'clock A.M. 15 degrees west of us.
If 15 degrees make a difference of
1 hour (or 60 minutes), then 1 degree
would make a difference of TJ f 60
minutes, which is 4 minutes. A degree
of longitude in the latitude of New
York is about 52 miles. (You recol-
lect that the degrees of longitude grow
smaller and smaller as you go toward
the poles.) If, then, 52 miles make a
difference of 4 minutes (=240 sec-
onds), 1 mile will make a difference of
sV of 240 seconds, which is about 4J
seconds ; consequently, when it is pre-
cisely noon at your father's house, it is
4J seconds after noon at your uncle's,
one mile east of you; and is 4J sec-
onds "before noon at your neighbor's,
one mile west of you. People do not
generally try to keep their time quite
so accurately as that ; but if they did,
no two neighbors' clocks would pre-
cisely agree, unless they were exactly
north and south of each other.
The table on the opposite page will
show you the difference in time be-
tween a great many places in the Unit-
ed States. Suppose you wish to find
the difference of time between Boston
and St. Paul. Look for Boston in the
column of names at the top, and for
St. Paul on the side. Trace the lines
of figures, as you do in the multiplica-
tion table, till they meet, at the num-
ber 88, and you have the difference of
time in minutes. You have found then
that whatever time a true clock at Bos-
ton indicates, a true clock at St. Paul
will be 88 minutes almost an hour
and a half slower. When it is noon
at Boston it is only 32 minutes past 10
o'clock A.M. at St. Paul.
You can find the difference of time
between places not put down in the
table, by looking in your Atlas for the
difference in longitude, and multiplying
the number of degrees by 4, which will
give you the difference of time in min-
utes. For instance, Paris is 76J de-
grees east of New York. 76 J X 4=306.
306 minutes=5 hours and 6 minutes.
So when it is noon at Paris, it is 5
hours and 6 minutes before noon (i. e.,
lacks 6 minutes of 7 o'clock A.M.) at
New York ; and when it is noon at New
York, it is 6 min. past 5 P.M. at Paris.
Will some of my young readers, by
using their Atlases and slates, tell me,
when it is noon at New York, what
time is it at Eio Janeiro? at London?
at Pekin? (Look out and get it right.)
What tune at the Sandwich Islands ?
sill
II- 1
If JJ
0. g 0, * t
...!.,...*..........,.........*,;.
Albany, N. T.
Augusta, Ga,
Baltimore, Md.
Boston, Mass.
Buffalo, N. T.
Burlington, Vt.
. CO ^ ^'
SSSKI
! ::5:: SS :; S ::::::::::: E ::::::!:": S /::
>JL ^ M E ' i 8 i
M S J
a c 3 s
M W M M
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woo?t3^owo C) S2oS;"i-Sw(-*ccSiQ^ a ,SEoSiw SS"S!fcwoi
Chicago, Til.
Cincinnati, Ohio.
c. " > "" a> , ,o,o " ^coo
Detroit, Mich.
-S Bf'JJ'i'JV||V-Jt'B : i'9f3B i *BSI *--"-"-
sssis
Halifax, N. 8.
Indianapolis, Iml.
Jefferson, Mo.
Kingston, Can.
Little Hock, Ark.
ft 3 3 S
s^.^s^^^,^^^ 5oS ^ SS , SfeSsSg . S
S g 2 5
S 8 3 2 S
* H. " " " "" M01C * 0>3>0>c> - e. . -. ==,
Milwaukle, Wle.
Mobile, Ala.
Montreal, Can.
Nashville, Tenn.
Natchez, Miss.
Si|v!|5**iiiilxh r ;-i i;^to*^*^**^'
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"g - f*-I:*W* " M " " * ^ o ^ uo > ^ ^^
M M
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New Orleans, La.
New York, N. T.
Philadelphia, Pa.
Pittsburg, Pa.
Portland, Me.
5siSM5^5rj:S^^jn^J55^sL fc ^I^I
. M = 0, =, ^ * -, 0, M U * , p, -, H C. 0, * ^ 0>
M W M -
5 , s; s w
Raleigh, N. 0.
Richmond, Va.
St. Louis, Mo.
St. Paul, Minn.
Sacramento, Cal.
Springfield, Mass.
Tallahassee, Fla.
M " ^ " " "''* " " " ^OM
^0 C. ^-,C 9 , ,.-.
S S S P S 3 S S S S g E 2 _ g S g v 8 , g. . S S - S S S B 2 S S S S S
Mill
S^S5!MSSSSg8MSga = ~SSSMg3MSSSg
8 M CO Ik 10
M B P
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* r CO C, c, M * ^ ^MM M CO CO - C, MM* M "M^
Trenton, N. J.
t7tica, N. Y.
Wheeling, V.
Wilmington, Del.
87
88
RULE FOR MAKING ENIGMAS.
RULE FOR MAKING ENIGMAS.
"HEAR MB. MEKRY: While I was
*-* yet young I was among your most
constant and best pleased readers, but
"when I became a man, I put away
childish things." Nevertheless, my
love for your pamphlet was never
more strong than it is now, and in
proof of it permit me to contribute
the following rule to your younger
readers for making enigmas, which
reduces, I am flattered to imagine, a
comparatively abstruse subject to a
simple, if not an easy form.
BULK. Choose any word for a sub-
ject; then analyze it, or take it to
pieces, by setting down in a column
the number of letters there are of
each kind ; then spell a word or two
from the letters before you, never
using one letter twice unless twice re-
peated in the subject.
As you use up the letters in words,
scratch them off the column, so that
they will not confuse you. "When you
have only three or four letters remain-
ing, make a new table, and, by putting
them together in different manners,
you generally will find a word which
will use them up. If not, then you
may use some other letter in the sub-
ject twice, to complete the word.
Having now given my rule, and
perhaps not in the clearest manner, I
will try to make it plainer by an ex-
ample. Take for subject
THE PHILOSOPHER SOCRATES.
18 5 7 9 11 13 15 IT 19 21
2 4 6 8 lu- .1 14 16 18 20 22
There are in these words 22 letters,
Of these, 2 are t's, 3 h's, 3 e's, 2 p's,
1 i, 1 1, 3 o's, 3 s's, 2 r's, 2 c's, and 1
a. (I write them here in a line to be
short. It is always best to write them
in a column.)
We see immediately on examination
that there are a sufficient number of
letters to spell a number of words. It
is not hard to form words with the
letters, but it is hard to discriminate
which words to use. Discriminatingly
we spell first opher (put figure 2 in-
stead of 3 in the number of o's, put
figure 1 instead of 2 in the number of
p's, put figure 2 instead of 3 in the
number of h's, etc.). We spell next
sop (put figure 2 instead of 3 in the
number of e's, etc., as before), then
claret (scratch off as before). Now,
if you have scratched off every letter
as we spelled the words out, your table
is much blotted, so make a new one,
which will necessarily be much re-
duced in size : 1 t, 2 h's, 2 e's, 1 o, 2
s's. We spell immediately hose, and
we have left these letters : 1 t, 1 h, 1
e, 1 s but by putting the first letter
last we have hest (see Webster's Una-
bridged). In the generality of cases
we are not so fortunate as to use up
all the letters, no more, no less, and
it is only by great study that this is to
be accomplished in any case.
Now we have accomplished two great
objects 1st, we have used all the let-
ters; 2d, we have used none twice,
which two things of all others make an
enigma hard to guess. Having ob-
tained the words, they may be ar-
ranged to suit the writer. Care should
be taken to mix the letters around, to
make it hard to unravel them. Now
we give the enigma in form :
My 8, 11, 5, 6, 14, is the name of
the biblical palifornia.
My 9, 16, 4, is connected intimately
with the betrayal of our Saviour, and
was used by him to point out his be-
trayer.
My 17, 7, 19, 18, 3, 1, is the name
of a kind of wine, of a red color.
EMIGRATION. WIEBE's SCALE-BUILDING KEY-INDICATOR. 89
y 12, 20, 15, 21, is a word familiar
to the mouth of every fireman, and is
indispensable to every "machine."
My 2, 13, 22, 20, is that which ser-
vants are accustomed to ohey.
I hate now finished my little labor
of love to the young readers of this
inestimable magazine, and it does not
surprise me in the least that the maga-
zine is flourishing, for what little en-
gine is there which will not go, when
it has boilers to supply its little wants
large and numerous enough to make
an engine ten times larger go with ease ?
With a hearty shake of the hand to
your able coadjutors, a hurrah for
your boys, and a kiss to the girls, I
write myself your humble friend,
BLACK-EYED TEDDIE.
"WiLLiAMSxowN, Jan. 25, 1858.
Thank you, Brother Teddie, most
cordially. Your labor of love will
materially help the young folks, by
showing them how to make short and
compact work of their enigmas. R. M.
EMIGRATION.
TiEAR UNCLE MERRY: In the De-
"' cember number of your magazine I
noticed a poetical scheme of emigra-
tion, very pungent and witty. Below
are a few lines in the same style, which
please publish, if you consider them
worth the trouble.
Let travelers depart for Rome
At coming of the morn,
The passionate to Ire-land,
And topers to Cape Horn.
To Sing Sing let musicians go,
And o'er that prison reign
While fishermen should start for Wales,
Or to the River Seine,
And "merry" boys and girls depart
In one promiscuous band,
Unto the River Herri-mack,
Or else to Mary -land. BUCKEYE EOT.
WIEBE'S SCALE-BUILDING
KEY-INDICATOR.
THE almost universal introduction of
*- music into schools, and the faith,
now prevalent, that all can learn to
sing or that the exceptions are too
few to be regarded in the account
give a special interest and importance
to every improvement in the mode of
teaching the elements. A perfect un-
derstanding and command of the scales
being of paramount importance, in
laying a good foundation for music,
this " Scale-Building Key-Indicator"
will be found a most convenient and
efficient aid. By a simple mechanical
arrangement, with sliding tablets, the
whole thing is shown to the eye. Any
major-key, and its relative minor, may
be found, its number of sharps and
flats, the succession of its tones and
semi-tones, its common chord, and
even its position on the key -board of
the piano ; thus not only showing the
various changes on which the scales
are built, but the very reasons and
laws by which they are governed.
These Indicators are of different sizes,
adapted to the convenience of a single
scholar, or, like the ordinary black-
board, to that of a class or a school.
The one before us is of substantial
pasteboard, about 12 by 14 inches.
We are glad to learn that the " In-
dicator" has been already adopted for
the Public Schools of Brooklyn. We
trust they will be introduced every-
where, and we seriously hope that
every pupil in music will have the ad-
vantage, at the beginning, of a clear,
practical, and tangible explanation of
the grand mystery of the science the
chief difficulty in the way of every be-
ginner the mystery of majors and
minors, with their ever-shifting rela-
tions of sharps and flats. " Is any one
1 merry ,' let him sing," and sing welL
90
MEKBT'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FKIENDS.
ftag's
Cfcirt toify p Jtinrtrs.
TALCUT FARMS, OHIO, Feb. 3, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE: Will you admit an-
other niece a wild, "harum-scarum"
girl, as Uncle Jabe calls me to your
circle ? If so, please introduce me to
your other 20,000 nieces and nephews,
not forgetting Willie H. Coleman. I
should really like to see that young (?)
man now, I have so much curiosity to see
how he bears the late news from Black-
Eyes. I imagine him looking quite
" down in the mouth." And above all
things, I should love to peep into Mrs.
Black-Eyes' home, and see how she man-
ages that husband of hers. I'll warrant
she doesn't give him a moment's peace.
I wonder what he thinks of her flirtation
with VV. H. C. Uncle Frank, now tell
me truly if dear Aunt Sue's name is not
. I am sure you can not deny it.
Please just let me into the secret, and I
will tell no one. I won't even let Uncle
Jabe who is the greatest tease that ever
breathed, and always pries into all my
secrets know it.
Dear Uncle Frank, I have been in the
most deplorable state of ignorance as to
the prettiest nom-de-plume. I at last
concluded to name myself after the first
living creature which entered the room.
Just as I had decided so to do, in came
old puss, and so I will sign myself,
Your affectionate niece, MALTA.
P. S. Do not let the man with the
hatchet see this ; and tell W. H. Coleman
that I sympathize with him in his recent
affliction. Where is Nip ?
There you are, Pussy dear, in the very
midst of the circle. We almost tremble
for our " Timid Birdie," and our pet
" Dove." But if you once show the
mischief in your eye, we shall set " Nip,"
or " Willie," or " Pansy's Trip" on you.
We shall not deny what " Aunt Sue's
name is not," because you are sure we
can not, and we are too civil to contradict
you. Besides, we are afraid of " Uncle
Jabe."
" Nip" shall speak for her(?)self.
Feb., 1858.
DEAR QUARTO : Well, of all astound-
ing news, that of Black-Eyes' marriage,
contained in our " Monthly Chat," is cer-
tainly the mast . Who would have sup-
posed it ? How often have I wished that
I were better acquainted with my
" charming cousin !" And indeed I quite
intended to become so, not without the
hope of ultimately ahem ! well, no mat-
ter too late now, and my affections are,
alas ! misplaced. However, I am suf-
ficiently recovered to oifer my sincere
(they are really) congratulations to the
" happy husband," and may he live long
to enjoy his blessing! Magnanimous
Nip, etc. !
Pray, Mr. Coleman, maj I humbly in-
quire if you are " knocked into a cocked
hat," also, at this denouement ? It would
seem so. Do, pray, have mercy upon the
afflictions of others. Don't be so selfish.
You have not for a long time (how long
to me !) mentioned me, in your effusions.
What am I to think ? I am almost glad
the fascinating Black-Eyes is off the
carpet ; but, then, there is Laura. The
cry is still, " They come !"
Mr. A. C. Whitner, I think you very
presuming, and suppose you are very
young, or you would have sense enough
to " keep your distance" when the ladies
are on the tapis.
I am very grateful to my cousins for
remembering me in their letters. I don't
forget them. On the contrary, I think
them so happy in receiving their " Month-
ly Quarto" that I have recommended
it to several of my little friends, that
they might participate also with us.
Whether our number of 20,000 has been
increased, I am not able to say. I hope
so, any way. Now, Uncles, aunts, cous-
ins, and all, I must bring this to a close,
though not before telling you that you
must bid me " farewell" for some time.
" It may be for years, and it may be for-
ever," as the song goes, though I hope
not that latter. The fact is, I am off for
Europe, soon, and for a good long travel
a large party of us and, oh, dear !
such anticipations ! Do bid me a pleasant
good-bye in the April Chat all of you
for when my " packet" from home is sent
to me, one of the ingredients (!) will be
the MUSEUM ! It takes so little room
that it can easily be slipped in. You
must pardon my apparent forgetfulness
of Rule 2d. I have not ! Worse still ?
Willful disobedience ? No ; but I have
thrown myself upon your generosity. I
MERRY S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
91
am going away. Think of that, and over-
look this, as ray last, for a long time. It
is my farewell epistle.
Good-bye, friends, all ; good-bye, from
Your neuter, NIPPINIFIDGET.
There, Nip, we have given you full
swing, this time, not because you say it
is your last, but just that it may not be
your last. You owe us something for
holding back, and putting down Uncle
Hiram, who would have amputated you
at both ends. You will, of course, let us
hear from you, in Europe. We will de-
vote a page to " our special correspond-
ent," and you shall tell us about the
wonders of the old world. And so, you
have our blessing.
A smooth, bright passage o'er the sea,
A joyful welcome home,
Heaven's choicest blessings go with thee,
Wherever thou may'st roam.
But you must call at our sanctum be-
fore you go.
MORRISTOWN, Sec. 8, 1857.
Welcome, Uncle Joe ! A funny old
man is the epitome of jollification.
I sent a kiss some time ago to both
Black- Eyes and Nip. I wonder if it was
received ?
Please give my best congratulations to
Black-Eyed Mary and H. A. D., for their
success in obtaining the prizes. I haven't
wit enough to make up a conundrum or
riddle that would come anywhere near
winning a prize, so I envy 'em.
With best respects to the cousins, and
" love and a kiss" to Aunt Sue, I remain,
D. B. 0.
HOUSTON, Jan. 9, 1858.
DEAR UNCLES R., F., AND H. : I see
that the consolidated magazine has got
a new dress " from its chin to its toes,"
as Uncle Frank says. Well, I am glad
of it, and I suppose that some thousands
more of your subscribers are too.
If I can be heard amid the fuss about
Aunt Sue's name, I will say that I know
what Aunt Sue's name is.
Any one wanting information on this
subject, can call on me at Houston.
STAR STATE.
There, now, is a chance for all the
curious. Give him a call. He is not
more than 2,000 miles off.
A NEW LOT OF CURIOSITIES FOR THE
SHELVES OF THE MUSEUM AND CAB-
INET.
A muscle from the arm of the law.
Commodore.
A splinter from the post of honor.
Eureka.
A timber from the ship of state.
Eureka.
A thimbleful of the milk of human
kindness. Eureka.
One of the horns of a dilemma. H. H.
The tip end of the North Pole. if. H.
A feather from the wing of an army.
Hal.
One of the toes of the Great Bear.
Hal.
A hook for an ancestral line. Hal.
A rail from the pale of the church.
C. W.
The horn of an Irish bull. C. W.
A hoop from the skirts of a forest.
C. W.
A spoke from the wheel of Time.
C. W.
A bolster for a bed of onions. C. W.
BATAVIA, Jan. 27, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE FRANK : Will you
please introduce me to the circle ? What
a large pferlor you must have to hold the
circle ! Bo if I do not crowd I will come
in. What a puzzle they have about Aunt
Sue's name. W. H. Coleman has been
traveling, I see. Give my love to Mr.
Merry, Hiram Hatchet, Aunt Sue, and
the host of cousins. One of your nieces,
ADEL.
Uncle Hiram's love back again, Adel.
Uncle Merry would say so, too, if he
were here.
SANTIAM, OREGON TER.
JVov. 18, 1857.
DEAR UNCLE : Once more allow me
to intrude into your presence. Now,
really, Mr. Merry, I am sorry I said any-
thing about the " Plains" in my other
letter, because I fear I can not describe
them in a manner to interest my numer-
ous cousins. However, if you will prom-
ise to be very quiet, and not lei, any
keen and piercing " eyes" peep over your
shoulder (I do not mean to accuso any
one of ill-manners), I will send you a
description of one or two of the prettiest
to read, all to yourself. You will not
tell, will you, dear Uncle Robert ? Oh,
yes, while I think of it, I sent for three
numbers of the MUSEUM last summer,
92
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
but they have not yet arrived. What is
the reason? I find out the answers to
some of the puzzles, etc. , but the distance
is so great that I am always too late in
sending them. Why, it is absolutely a
month, and sometimes more, from the
time they leave New York until they
reach our country, and then, you know,
it would be another month until a letter
could go back ; and by that time most of
the answers are given. But you say,
"Enough," and I see the shadow of the
"hatchet" approaching, and I had better
bid a hasty but affectionate good-bye and
retreat. Affectionately, LUCY.
We can not tell, dear Lucy, why the
numbers you sent for have not been re-
ceived. They have been sent regularly
every month. We suppose the fault is
with the mails. This letter of yours,
which is dated Nov. 18, reached us on the
28th January, 71 days.
ASHTABULA, Jan. 27, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE : I have often thought
I should like to become one of your nieces,
or if I can not be that, an acquaintance.
I have tried three times before to write
to you, but each time my heart failed me.
I think I can hear you say, " Silly child."
Please introduce me to Aunt Sue, and
all the Merry cousins, and ask Aunt Sue if
I may have a place beside her " Bureau,"
that I may look into her dear, kind face.
I have made the acquaintance of the
CABINET, and like it very much.
I wonder if this silly letter will be con-
signed to the basket. Yours in haste,
BLACK-EYED SUSIE.
Welcome, Susie, to full fellowship, as a
niece. We do not say " silly" but. we do
wonder what kind of a heart that may be
which would " fail" to take part in Uncle
Merry's Chat, when it had a chance.
MATHERTON, Jan. 30, 1858.
GENTS : I here send you one dollar to
pay my last year's subscription. We
are poor here in Michigan. I sold my
pet lamb to pay it. I will send one more
dollar for the present year for MERRY'S
MUSEUM AND WOODWORTH'S CABINET.
T. L. MORRICE.
There is an example for you. Some of
our young friends, who wouldn't have to
sell a pet lamb, or practice any other
self-denial, or sacrifice, seem to have for-
gotten us. Please remember, any of you
that have not "paid up" that it takes
100 cents to make a dollar, and that
many hundreds of (gold) dollars (or bills)
are wanted to keep the MUSEUM going.
CHICAGO, Feb. 4th, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE MERRY : I am more dis-
pleased than ever with " Simple Bess"
(formerly " Original Bess"). I admire
her modesty very much in changing her
name, but I do not admire those long
words with which she has prefaced her
letter. And while I was repeating them,
my tongue got so much twisted that I
fear I can not talk for a week, which
would be a dreadful calamity for me.
Well, I am of the opinion, Uncle Merry,
she must have staid at home from school
(if she is not a married woman, like the
stately Mrs. Black- Eyes) a whole day, on
purpose to find long words out of the dic-
tionary. At any rate, I should like to
know how long it took her. But there is
the bell, and Miss Hatch, I am afraid,
will come along and say, " Very proper
way of spending your time, Miss Ken-
nedy," so I will close. Give my love to
all, including Mrs. Black-Eyes, although
I'm afraid she will turn into an old man
yet. Good-bye. I remain your devoted
niece (although our acquaintance has
been short), NETTIE KSNNEDY.
OTISVILLE, ORANGE Co., N. Y.,
Feb. Qth, 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY : As hard timeshave
been knocking at almost every door, I
thought I should have to do without the
MUSEUM this year. But my father gave
me a dollar this morning to pay for an-
other year, and right glad was I, for by
this means I shall be able to hear from
some of my Merry cousins. When dating
my letter, I noticed that to-morrow would
be my birth-day. Then I shall be thir-
teen years old. You will not tell any of
the girls, for that would make me feel
bashful. You may give them my love,
but I shall not send it all until I get a
little older. I just want to ask my cous-
ins a question, if any of them can give the
information Which is the mother of the
chicken the hen that lays the egg, or the
one that hatches it ?
' Your Merry Cousin, MAESENA.
Happy to see you, Marsena, though,
from the first syllable of your name, we
fear you will instigate another war in our
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
93
now peaceful circle. Are you descended
from Zenobia, or Boadicea, or Joan
d'Arc ?
The chicken question shall be looked
into, if we break all the eggs in the nest.
NEW YORK, Feb. 4, 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY : If you have an
extra seat beside some one who will keep
me out of mischief, I would like to come
in and get acquainted with some of the
" Merry" family. Do you think you can
make room for me ? From the
" COMMODORE."
We have only two objections to you,
Commodore. One is, that we are neither
sailors nor marines. We don't like
fighting, pulling the ropes, nor being
strung up to the " yard-arm" for slight
offenses. The other is, that our Chat is
getting crowded, and we have no room
for " yarns."
TO OUR SUBSCRIBERS-SPECIAL NOTICE.
ME. STEARXS, who is greatly interested in his subscribers, wishes us to sug-
gest, privately, to some of them, that they are in arrears in their payments.
He supposes they have overlooked it, as a small matter, of little importance to
them, or to him. He begs to . assure them that every dollar tells, now-a-days,
and that he and Uncle Hiram would both be decidedly more amiable, if they
generally take this hint, and act upon it promptly. The bills have been sent,
by way of refreshing each one's memory, as to the exact amount due. We
earnestly hope they will receive immediate attention. You can hardly imagine
how much good it would do, all round. It would illuminate the MUSEUM,
replenish the CABINET, rejuvenate the SCHOOLFELLOW, enliven the Chat, make
Fncle Merry merrier, put an amiable edge on our JIatchet, and even make the
Ste(a)rn man, who stands at the helm, laugh in his pocket, if not in his sleeve.
N. B. Those who have " paid up" will please not read this.
AUNT SUE'S BUREAU.
I BEGIN to feel very proud that my
young friends don't forget me, while
Uncles Hiram and Frank are chatting to
them so pleasantly ; they come over to
see their old (!) Auntie once in a while,
and she gets a good many pleasant nods
across the room. There is Marie with a
pretty smile, and Jennie J. Johnson
(what a flock of J's !) bowing to me.
Much obliged to Prairie Blossom for
her desire to see me, chez elle, but she
has a rather queer way of offering her
love, hasn't she ? " If you want my love
you may have it" as though she kept
small quantities of love done up in
little brown paper parcels, "to be called
for !" Here is Lotta E. Porter, too, and
J. S. Carruth, both smiling ; and if Uncle
Hiram hasn't gone and went and appro-
priated my friend Geo. H. Hopkins' letter,
just to fill up an odd corner ! and never
so much as said, " Walk in, you're wel-
come." Did you ever see such an
obfusticated effusion as that signed
" (Simply) Bess !" Doesn't it " beat the
Dutch ?" But I must attend to my own
little circle of correspondents.
Mattie Bell comes first. Your " little
poem," Mattie, I have handed over to
Uncle Hiram to pronounce judgment
upon.
Who will answer Lila's first question ?
BELOIT, Dec. 27, 1857.
DEAR AUNT SUE : I have resolved to
direct my epistle to you, feeling more
acquainted with you than with the other
editors. Why is it that since the union
of the CABINET with the MUSKUM the
letters have been addressed to Uncle
MEKBT'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
Merry, more than to the former editors
of the CABINET ?
Aunt Sue, I hope if you ever come West
you will not pass us by, as Uncle Frank
did last summer. Now, did he not give
those encouragement that lived on the
line of direct railroad communication
that he would visit them ? Give my love
and best wishes to all of the editorial
corps, and accept a kiss.
From your loving niece, LILA.
[Uncle Merry is always at home to re-
ceive letters and company, while Uncle
Frank is traveling all abroad. H. H.]
If I " ever come West" just let me
know where to find you, and see if I pass
you by.
Cornie Fleetwood seems to be "posted
up" as to my identity, but she doesn't
know me, or she would not have asked
that leading question.
MAPLE GROVE, Jan. 2, 1858.
DEAR AUNT SUE : I wish you a
happy New Year, Auntie (if I may address
you by that name ; may I ?). Are you
the Aunt Sue spoken of in the CABINET ?
If so, I know the secret. When you visit
the West, please come and give us a call.
We should be very happy to see you.
Your affectionate niece,
CORNIE FLEETWOOD.
Thank you ! I should be delighted to
call.
Enter Sweet Briar, defensively armed
at all points, ready to keep the peace.
TRENTON, N. J., Jan. 8, 1858.
DEAR AUNT SUE : I have but just
begun to take the MUSEUM, but through
the CABINET feel quite well acquainted
with you, and hope soon to feel at home
with all the Uncles and cousins. I like
the " Song of the Snowbird" very much,
especially the Accompaniment. Could
you not be kind enough to arrange some-
thing as a duet for treble and alto ? I
see that some think a few of your cor-
respondents inclined to be quarrelsome.
I trust that I shall not quarrel with any
one. Hoping that I shall prove sweet
enough to avert enmity, but still have a
briar to defend myself with in case of at-
tack, I sign myself
Your niece, SWEET BRIAR.
Very much to the point.
My old friend Older is my oldest cor-
respondent, dating back well, we won't
say how far. Hear him.
LE ROY, Jan. 7, 1858.
DEA.U AUNT SUE :
Since 'tis fashion of the time
To write our letters all in rhyme,
I'll crave assistance of the muse,
And humbly hope she'll not refuse.
To one and all I make my bow,
Who are amid our circle now.
Here's Willie 'mid our merry band ;
Since winter rules o'er all the land,
A Coalman, sure, should prosper well ;
And surely Uncle Frank can tell,
In these hard times, what wood is worth.
Two Forests come to share the mirth ;
(Of lack of wood we need not fear),
And Nip in a fidget, too, is here.
And Bess I see, and Buckeye boy,
And Mr. Nobody, of Joy.
Herelp Mattie Bell with merry strain
That bell I'd like to hear again.
Here's Mr. Dash and exclamation ;
But, hold ! the hatchet's ground anew,
I fear I'll need an amputation,
So I will stop at once. Adieu.
ADELBERT OLDER.
You'd " like to hear that bell again,"
(And in a merry mood you sing it,)
Perhaps in love with its sweet " strain,"
You possibly might like to ring it !
Arther (I should have spelled it Arthur if
I had had my own way) need not be afraid
of the " daggers" any more. They seem
to be somewhat like Macbeth's visionary
weapon "we have them, yet we have
them not." I believe they are suspended ;
not so much a, la Damocles as a la Banks
STARRY VALE, Jan. 19, 1858.
DEAR AUNT SUE : I wonder if the
Merry family are having as merry a time
as we New Englanders are having ? We
have some grand times skating. I wonder
if I could join your Merry family without
meeting " Star-daggers" and " Dash-
daggers ?" I entertain a great horror
for daggers. Where is Uncle Frank now-
a-days ? He is of such a roving nature
that I can't keep track of him. Give my
love to my Uncles, aunts, cousins, and
particularly to " Eugene Forrest."
Yours truly, ARTHER T s.
The last I heard of Uncle Frank, he
was among the " buried cities."
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
95
J. Oberholtzer, I protest against call-
ing Hope a " Miss ;" it is decidedly a mis-
nomer. Is she not the mother of good
spirits ? F. M. H.'s mistake is more excus-
able ; he missed it blindly, but you mis-
named Hope with your eyes wide open.
VERNAL BANK, LIONSVILLE,
Jan. 25, 1858.
DEAR AUNT SUE : An inward mon-
itor says : " 'Tis silly to imagine that
any prosaic effort of mine will be worthy
of a place in Aunt Sue's Bureau ;" but
" Miss Hope" says try.
While perusing the CABINET of 1854
I stumbled over your portrait. How the
" Blue and Black Eyed Merrys" long
for a glimpse at your countenance !
What generous surmises ! F. M. H. even
had the audacity to add the soubriquet of
" Old Maid." They are not in the secret.
Would it be wrong for me to intercede in
their behalf, and beg of you to satisfy
their curiosity ?
I think the " Song of the Snowbird"
excellent, if 1 may act the part of critic.
The accompaniment reflects great credit
on its author. Yours, as of old,
J. OBERHOLTZER.
Modesty suggests that you are perhaps
not a good judge of music. Civility and
Approbativeness say, " Don't doubt it."
Answers to Questions in Jan. No.
Question 198, in the November number,
not having been answered in due course,
we give the answer now.
The word is Faith, which makes all the
parts of speech, thu Article, a Noun,
hat Pronoun, I and it Adj., fit and
fat Verb, hit Hdv., aft Prep., at
Conf.,if Int.,&h\ Uncle George.
1. It shines brightest in the dark.
2. It makes men mend.
3.
4. Bare skins.
5. Fox.
6. It is in T resting.
7. Mad-ri-gal.
8. 1. Venus' Fly-trap. 2. Bishop's cap.
3. Prince's feather. 4. Ladies' Tress-
es. 5. Star of Bethlehem. 6. Bugle-
weed. 7 Colt's foot.
9. Niagara is? a wou(one)der Eliza-
beth was a Tw-dor.
10. Fortune-hunter.
11. The Kennebee and Androscoggin,
which form, by their junction, Merry-
meeting Bay.
12. LIV-e.
ANSWERS RECEIVED FROM :
W. H. Swezey Star-State Eureka
Oscar B. George B. T. X. L. Hal.
Charlie C. Waters C. F. W. Percy
M. S. N. Orlando Peter Jones Cousin
N. Freehold W. M. K. Lucy and
Emily Wm. R. D. Susie T. R. S. Non
Ella W. S. L.Laney Wat. Ned-
die Q. Harry Dow Will B. No. 6
C. W. P.
Questions, Enigmas, Charades, etc.
31. TWO ACROSTIC CONUNDRUMS.
1. A drink, and the vessel that holds
it. It is composed of a vegetable,
one of the Society Islands, and a
preposition. Sweet Briar.
2. A piece of furniture, and that
which covers it. Composed of a sub-
ject of discourse a shoemaker's
tool an island in the Indian Ocean
a small leaf, and an interjection.
Sweet Briar.
32. One eve as I walked by Dundalk's
pleasant harbor,
My last in the lap of fair Thetis
did lie.
My first is a tree in the midst of yon
arbor,
In " Edward your friend" you'll
my second descry.
With my first and my second, then,
use transposition,
And my mystical answer you'll
easily scan.
I owe you the whole, so with all ex-
pedition
Send forth the solution as soon as
you can. H. W. Montrose.
96
MERRY 8 MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FEIEKDS.
33. Tom and Harry had just paid their
fare in the car. Tom said to Harry,
" How is it that the cars have a
wooden lightning-rod :" Harry
scratched his head, but could not
,j scratch out an answer. Who can ?
JL. Older.
34. U R TY CO a tavern no perfume by
a male child, said the jail does wrong
assembly. Ji. Older.
35. Your servant, I am a very important
personage. I lay the iron bands
that unite these States ; I manu-
facture the powerful steed that trav-
erses them, and make the huge
steamships that proudly plow the
Atlantic. It is I that cultivate the
vast prairies of the West, and hasten
the march of civilization. I was at
the creation, and have seen the rise
and fall of empires, and I was the
cause. I was in Nero's power ;
Luther had me at command. I be-
long to every living thing. At the
North, at the South, at the East and
the West, there am I The feath-
ered tribe in the air, the inhabitants
of the fathomless deep, the volcano's
mouth, the earthquake's gap, all ac-
knowledge my dominion. I am sole
agent of the world. Ralph Rambler,
36. Can you tell me why
The deceitful eye
Can best descry
Upon how many toes
The pussy-cat goes ? Bess.
37. Why is a top like a lazy horse ?
A. Older.
38. What coat should be all sleeves ?
C. W.
39. We live in all parts of the world
are descended from an immense and
ancient ancestry ; our forefathers
having been present at the creation.
We are ingeniously made either
small or large, and of one color
while alive. When dead, our coun-
tenances change as those of mortals.
We are powerful, harmless, though
in millions ; yet behave toward each
other sometimes as though bent on
our destruction again, we are
peaceable, and sometimes inspire
poetry. Some of us live high and
proud others, lowly ; and though
we resemble man so much in dis-
position, we do not in form. When
we die. sometimes we fly sometimes
not. We are never buried, and never
aspire to heaven. Yet, insignificant I
as we seem, we have benefited the
world much, and will continue to do
so until the end of time.
40. Why is one murder a crime, and
fifty not so ? Lad.
41. My first is an animal, noble and
grand,
Which my second provides for, to use
and command ;
My second's an animal, grander still,
Who guides both my jirst and my
third at his will ;
My third is a palace, a prison, a shell,
In which my grand second may
travel or dwell ;
My first and my third are fashioned
to be
An aid to my second on land and on
sea ;
My whole is an art which employs
my first two,
When my first to my second proves
useful and true,
While my second is able my first to
subdue,
In all which my third has nothing
to do. Hal.
42. What piece of money is the most dif-
ficult to reach ? Hal.
43. Why is study not conducive to the
health of a king ? Hal.
44. How luscious ray first with its pale
golden hue !
Suggestive of meadows o'erspangled
with dew,
Where the maid singeth blithe by the
babbling brook- side,
As she milketh her cows at soft
eventide.
My next is endowed with strange
musical powers,
And constant he sings thro' the long
summer hours.
Alas ! for his song there are no
thanks to pay,
His friends are but few, and fickle
e'en they.
How gorgeous my whole in his gay
painted dress,
Bright thing of an hour life is all
happiness !
As he basks in the sun, or flits
through the air,
Fond whispers of love to some rose-
belle to bear.
Fleta Forrester
45. My whole is nineteen, and no more,
Take away one, and leave a score.
W. H, Swezey.
SCENE AMONG THE ALPS.
MOUNTAIN SCENERY.
99
MOUNTAIN SCENERY.
HE mountain scen-
ery of Europe em-
braces almost every
element of sublimity
beauty. The grandeur
of the Alpine summits, and
the romantic beauty of the
Swiss valleys, have been themes of
admiration to the poet and the trav-
eler for ages past. Their magnificence,
indeed, has quite overshadowed that
of other and humbler districts, which,
if the Alps had not been neighbors,
and quite too tall for competition,
would have figured largely in the
poetry and romance of the world.
The following story, which, our
readers will be glad to know, is from
the pen of Cousin Hannah, relates to
a peculiar phenomenon sometimes ob-
served on one of the mountains of
Europe, and the superstition to which
it gave rise.
THE SPECTER OF THE BROCKEN.
Peter Peterson, and his brother
Hans, lived in a little village in Han-
over, just at the foot of the highest of
the Hartz Mount* '.is, the celebrated
Brocken. It was a wild, beautiful
country. The steep, rocky mountains
looked as if resolved that no human
foot should climb them; the gloomy
forest-trees stood close together, like
ranks of soldiers, ready to repel any
invasion of their territory; and the
turbulent streams leaped down preci-
pices, and forced their way through
deep caverns, as if to defy any attempt
to cross them. Yet people did live at
the foot of these mountains, their cat-
tle grazed on the patches of open pas-
turage, and sometimes forced them-
selves a short distance into the thick,
frowning forests, and drank of the
rushing streams. Sometimes, too,
they would stray so far in these wilds
that the poor peasants would have to
follow them and drive them home ;
hut they did so, trembling with fear,
for they well knew that if these places
were rough and inaccessible to man,
they were the favorite haunts of the
wild man of the forest. Did not the
weird huntsman sound his horn and
dash through those passes in the night;?
and when the wind blew and the storm
raged, had not the hosts of darkness
been heard hurrying on their spectral
steeds to their rendezvous ?
Peter and Hans had heard all these
things, and believed them, too. Had
not their grandmother told them, over
and over again, how the spirits of the
air, spirits of the earth, and spirits of
the water reveled in those very mount-
ains, woods, and streams, so near and
yet so terrible to them ?
Peter and Hans were both brave
lads, not more inclined to superstition
than most lads of their age. They
only believed and trembled at what
all the world around them believed
and trembled at.
But Peter and Hans were curious,
too, and they were not cowards ei-
ther ; so that their curiosity would
often get the better of their prudence,
100
MOUNTAIN SCENERY.
and they would venture on some part
of the forbidden or enchanted ground.
One day, as they were driving home-
ward the flock they had been watch-
ing, Peter exclaimed, "Look! Hans,
see how bright the sun shines on the
top of the Brocken. Do you suppose
the old fellow up there sees it, or is it
too bright for his eyes ?"
" Perhaps it is," said Hans ; " you
know he was never seen, except aboxit
sunrise, so I think he must walk about
at night, and go to bed in the day-
time."
" So he says ' good-night' to the
sun, when he's getting up. I wonder
how he can keep his eyes open, when
the great sun is wide awake, and sends
such a flood of light down on the
earth," said Peter.
" It could not do us any harm to
look at that old fellow some morning
at sunrise," said Hans. "I declare I
am tired of hearing about these folk,
and never seeing them."
"It would only do you harm if they
should see you," replied Peter.
"I don't mean that they shall see
me," answered Hans, "that is, not
near enough to touch me. Besides, I
only intend to see the specter up here
on the Brocken, and that I can do by
climbing that hill, yonder."
"Well, you have some spirit in
you, after all, Hans, and I have a
mind to go with you. Two are bet-
ter than one," cried Peter.
" Yes, two are better than one,"
said Hans, slowly.
tf l don't know," said Peter; "we
will fix a time by-and-by."
" No, indeed," exclaimed Hans ;
"wait till your courage oozes away,
or somebody hears us talking of it,
and stops us. /shall go to-morrow."
The boys had now reached home.
They did not venture to say anything
more on the subject, lest their careful
mother should thwart their plan.
Early the next morning the boys
were up. It was their duty daily.
Every one in the cottage rose early.
This morning, at least, there was no
lingering. They drove their flock to
the foot of the mountain, and then,
with no time to lose, began swiftly to
ascend it. When they reached the
top, there, full before them, stood the
Brocken. The sun's rays had just
touched the very summit with a faint
tinge of rose color. Not a cloud was
to be seen, not a mist to intercept
their view; but the specter was not
there.
" He never does come out in a clear
day," said Hans, pettishly.
" They say he always manages to
cover himself with mist and clouds,
so you don't see him so plainly as we
could if we were there now. What a
grand view we could have at him if
he only would come out of his hiding-
place!"
The next morning the boys ascended
the mountain again. Hans was a lit-
tle in advance, and, as he turned a
projecting rock, and stood on the very
topmost point, the Brocken, vailed in
light vapor, was before him, and there,
terrible in its shadowy vastness, stood
the gigantic form of the specter. Hans
stood a moment, trembling, and then,
recovering his courage, turned back to
call his brother. " He is there, and I
have seen him, Peter," he whispered.
Peter shrank back.
" Oh, you need not be afraid," said
Hans; "he did not notice me nor harm
me. There are some dreadful chasms
and precipices between this and the
Brocken. Even his giant foot could
not step over them."
Thus reassured, Peter came up and
looked, but the specter was gone. His
MOUNTAIN SCENERY.
101
SPEUTKIJ OF THE BROOKEN.
strength, too, was gone, and he lay
down, panting, while Hans stood by
him, looking earnestly at the spot
where he had seen the specter. Sud-
denly he appeared again. Hans did
not take off his eyes, hut turned to-
ward Peter, and whispered, "He is
there again; look!"
Peter, crouching close to the ground,
looked up, and saw the awful form,
standing motionless, except that the
wind blew his long coat's fantastic
folds hither and thither.
He seemed looking toward them.
At last Hans raised his hand to his
cap, fearful that it might he blown off.
The specter did the same.
Hans was frightened. The specter
certainly noticed them, and had mock-
ed him. What did it mean ? With-
out turning his eyes, he leaned over
toward his brother, and whispered,
"Peter, do you see that? He saw,
and mocked me. He is watching
us."
To his horror, the specter also leaned
to the ground, as if speaking to some
one near him.
"Lift me up," cried Peter; "help
me to run away. Let us get away
from this place before he springs over
to us."
" He can't do that," said Hans,
growing brave as he saw his brother's
fear; "I will lie down beside you,
and see what he will do."
Hans laid down, and, to his aston-
ishment, the specter vanished.
" He has only taken some short way
hither, or gone, perhaps, to call some
other creatures like himself," whis-
pered Peter, in an agony of fear. " Let
us go quickly."
Hans trembled too. He was more
102
" THERE 18 A SILVER LINING TO EVERY CLOUD."
afraid of the specter invisible than
when he saw him on the distant
mountains, and knew they were sep-
arated by impassable gulfs. So, giv-
ing his hand to Peter, he helped him
to rise, shaking in every limb. But
instead of running, they stood petrified
with fear. The specter too had risen,
as if from the earth, dragging with
him another figure as large, as terrible
in every respect as himself.
Unable to move, the poor boys might
have stood there till petrified with
fear. But suddenly the sun broke
through the clouds, chased away the
mists, and shone full and clear on the
Brocken and all the neighboring peaks.
The specter and his awful companion
vanished in the clear sunlight, the
boys' courage returned, and soon they
were able to return home.
Poor Peter, however, could not soon
recover from the shock his nerves had
sustained. At length, to explain the
singular change in looks and health,
Hans was obliged to tell the story of
their adventure. It spread through
the village ; young men and maidens,
old men and children, all flocked to
Hans to hear his story. All the sto-
ries that had ever been told of the
"Old Man of the Mountain," "The
Huntsman of the Hartz," and the
"Specter," and hundreds of such per-
sonages, were rehearsed over and over
again by the grandams. Yet no one
dared venture out, except in broad day-
light, with every precaution against
the evil influence of demons.
It was not until many, many years
afterward, that a traveler, wiser than
the poor peasants, proved, to his own
satisfaction, and theirs too, that the
specter was only a reflection of the
person who stood on the other mount-
ain, thrown by the sun on the mists
of the Brocken.
The relative height of the two peaks
was such, that the first slant rays of
the rising sun would glance over the
summit of one to that of the other,
carrying with them the images of
whatever objects were in the way.
Thus the people of the Hartz had
for years been afraid of their own
shadows, like many wiser people even
in this day.
"THERE IS A SILVER LINING
TO EVERY CLOUD."
THOUGH dark seems the future, and
the present is dreary,
Keep still a brave heart and a res-
olute will ;
In the good cause of progress, oh !
never be weary,
But fight 'gainst oppression and
tyranny still.
.Remember, though dark is the cloud
that's above you,
And no dazzling sun in the horizon
is shining,
And no one in the wide world to care
for and love you,
That to every dark cloud there's a
bright silver lining.
Still keep on your way, and your duty
pursuing,
Till your life and your labor and
duties are o'er ;
Then receive your reward for your
faithful well-doing,
And fear not oppression or poverty
more.
But remember through life, though
the voyage be hard,
For 'twill save thee regret and much
sorrowful pining,
Though your stay upon earth has been
checkered and barred,
That to every dark cloud there's a
bright silver lining.
BTJOKEYE BOY.
THE UMBRELLA, AND THE APRIL SHOWER.
103
THE UMBRELLA, AND THE
APRIL SHOWER.
KEEP close we'll crowd the closer,
The harder it shall pour ;
'Tie seldom one umbrella
Is called to shelter four ;
But ours is large and generous,
And has a heart for more.
Yet faster, and yet faster,
The pelting sheets arrive,
And our one good umbrella
Is bound to shelter five,
For we are packed as snugly
As bees within a hive.
Now let it come in torrents,
We're snug as snug can be ;
What cares our brave umbrella
For five, or four, or three ?
On every side 'tis shedding,
The rain in careless glee.
The clouds are very leaky
The bottom must be out,
But, with our good umbrella,
We have no fear nor doubt,
Though every stick above us
Rains like a tiny spout.
Heigho ! 'tis coming faster,
The bottles sure have burst ,
But hark ! the brave umbrella
Says, "Clouds,do now your worst,
If you would wet these children,
You must destroy me first."
They must have thrown wide open
The windows of the sky;
But, with our good umbrella,
I think we'll get home dry ;
Or, if we do get sprinkled,
We'll neither fret nor cry.
Step lightly, bonnie sister,
Keep close, sweet little pet,
With such a brave umbrella,
We shall not be much wet ;
But Prink will have a drenching,
On that I'll make a bet
How like a river torrent
It pours along the street !
Prink cares not for umbrellas,
To him a bath's a treat,
And our good India-rubbers
Are umbrellas for our feet.
What's that you say, dear Nellie ?
'Tis dropping on your arm ?
Indeed, our kind umbrella
Didn't mean you any harm ;
And soon the good warm parlor
Will make all dry and warm. .
Ha ! ha 1 the wind is rising,
But we are almost there.
What if our good umbrella
Should fly away in air ?
Run, Prink, and say we're coming,
And open the gate do you hear ?
104
CARL; OR, A STORY WITHOUT AN KND.
OARL AS AN AKTItJT.
CARL;
OR, A STORY WITHOUT AN END.
CHAPTEK V.
CARL'S dream had given him a new
^ idea. He turned it over and over
in his mind, the next day, as he lay
under his tree. He at last came to
the conclusion, that the old man want-
ed him to study instead of dreaming,
while the little fairy had promised to
help him. Though he could not guess
how she could do this, still he thought
she might whisper to him, as she did
to his grandfather
" By study, my boy."
Carl, was always prompt to carry
out any plan that he had formed. So
CARL, OR, A STORY WITHOUT AN END.
105
the next day he possessed himself of a
microscope, and began his studies. He
soon discovered that a glass was not
all he needed, to assist in his discov-
eries; and he amazed his grandfather
by pulling down the great books in
the library, and poring over them, or
asking wise questions, sometimes puz-
zling him to find a good answer.
One day, as the old man was taking
his customary walk, he was surprised
to see Carl sitting quietly on a grassy
bank, with a slate before him.
"Is it possible that our idle Carl
has taken a fancy to arithmetic?" said
he to himself.
He walked softly up behind the boy,
and looked over his shoulder. There
were no figures on the slate, but a
pretty drawing of a little flower which
grew close by. Carl started when his
grandfather's shadow fell across the
slate.
" What is Carl doing?" asked he.
41 Only drawing this flower," said
Carl. " It fades so quickly, I can't
take it home, and it is so pretty. I
thought I saw a picture like it in one
of your great books, and I want to
compare them, and be certain what
it is."
"That's right, that's right, Carl,"
said the old man. " I always knew
you would begin to learn when the
time came. You will be a naturalist,
I see."
' 4 What is a naturalist?" asked Carl.
" A man who studies all about na-
ture, animals, flowers, trees, the earth ;
but take care not to lose your life for
your study, as Pliny did."
" And who was Pliny ?" asked Carl,
laughing. "You see I don't know
much, now."
" There's time enough for that,"
said his grandfather. "Pliny was a
learned Roman, who lived more than
1,800 years ago, and wrote about Nat-
ural History. He was very eager to
learn all that he could about the won-
ders of nature ; so when there was a
great eruption of Mount Vesuvius, he
went out in a boat to witness it. He
thought he was safe enough ; but the
mountain poured forth such torrents
of burning lava, that they completely
buried two large cities, called Hercu-
laneum and Pompeii. The clouds of
smoke and ashes wholly obscured the
light of the sun for two days ; birds
were suffocated in the air, and fishes
in the sea died. No wonder that in
venturing near such a scene of destruc-
tion Pliny lost his life."
"Well," said Carl, "I don't think
there is much danger of any such mis-
hap to me, if I am ever so curious in.
my studies of nature."
It was not long, however, before
Carl had occasion to remember his
grandfather's story. He had been
busily collecting all the plants he could
find of a certain class, for he had
already begun to arrange his specimens
in order. At last, in running along
the brink of a pretty pond, he sud-
denly spied the very thing he wanted,
a beautiful white lily, resting softly on
its green leaves in the midst of the
water. Fortunately, as Carl thought,
a great elm-tree leaned over the pond,
and dipped its branches almost into
the water. He did not mind a good
wetting, but he could not swim, so he
determined to wade as far as he could
safely, and then, holding fast to one of
these drooping branches, trust to that
when beyond his depth. No sooner
thought than done. In a moment he
was in the water, and near, very near
his coveted lily. He reached forward
to break it gently from its stem, when
crash went the limb on which he lean-
ed, and he disappeared with his flower
106
CARL ; OR, A STORY WITHOUT AN END.
THli UESCUE.
beneath the waters. He had scarcely
risen to the surface when Carlo was at
his side, and, seizing him by the coat,
swam to the shore with him. The
bank was so steep at the place where
they approached it, that Carl could
only hold on by the shrubs, without
the power of climbing up. Here Carlo
left him, swam to the other side of the
pond, and commenced barking and
howling with all his might. This at-
tracted the attention of a peasant, who
was working near by, who ran to the
place, seized Carl by the hand, and
drew him out in safety.
" Thank you, sir ;" said Carl, " you
are very kind. The bank was so soft
and slippery, I could not have got up
without your help."
"No," said the man ; " I think yon
could not. But you must thank your
dog, too, who first brought you to the
KITES. HOPE.
ior
shore, and then called for help to get
you up the bank."
" Good, good old Carlo ; you always
can take care of your master, can't
you ?" said Carl.
Carlo answered by wagging his tail
and shaking himself with such good
will as to scatter the water again into
Carl's face.
" We shan't get dry that way," said
the little boy ; "at least I shan't, if
you do, Carlo ; so let's have a good
run home, and get warm."
So, with many thanks to the kind
peasant, aw'ay the two playmates ran,
fast as they could go. Over the fields,
through the pathways and roads, till
they found themselves panting, but
warm, at home. Katrine soon pro-
vided Carl with all the dry clothes he
needed, and he went to his grandfather
to tell him of his adventure.
" Ah, Carl, I think you must be
trying to follow Pliny after all," said
the good man. " Did you not come
near losing your life for the sake of
your flower?"
"Oh, no; not near losing my life,"
cried Carl. "That could never be
while Carlo is near me."
KITES.
THE Chinese are very fond of kite-
flying. The ninth day of the ninth
moon is a national holiday, when the
whole population, men, women, and
children, turn out and fly their kites.
Thousands and thousands may then be
seen flying. They construct them very
cleverly, and make the string hum
like a top.
After flying them for the day, they
cut the strings, and let them go wher-
ever the wind will take them.
Dr. Franklin used to send up a kite
when he went into the water to bathe,
and then the kite would draw him
about in the water. He also drew
down the electric fluid, and collected it
in a Leyden jar that is, ajar made on
purpose to hold it.
Mr. Pocock, a schoolmaster at Bris-
tol, in England, made kites to draw
little carriages. We believe he him-
self went in this way from Bristol to
London.
The great secret of making a good
kite is to have the lath and bender
tough but light, and if you wish it to
fly well, mind it balances exactly, first,
by letting the lath rest on its two
ends ; if it turn over, you may balance
it by a heavier wing on one side than
the other to restore the equilibrium,
that is, to make one side as heavy as
the other. Secondly, when you put
the belly-band into the straighter or
lath, at the part of the belly-band
where the kite balances, fasten the
string by which you let it up.
Don't be discouraged if your kite
does not fly well the first time. Much
depends on the state of the wind. If
a kite is very light, it will fly with lit-
tle wind ; but, if heavy, it will require
a good strong wind to take it up.
Many kites which will not fly one part
of the day, if the wind freshen will go
up beautifully another. If you make
a kite, succeed if it cost you weeks of
care ; if you are not determined to
succeed, do not touch it.
HOPE.
WE live in hope; though clouds appear,
They linger but a day ;
The sun, to us a gift so dear,
Will scatter them away ;
Thus life is but an April shower,
And troubles are but rain ;
And hope, the sun, that in an honr
Will bring us joy again.
108
TIIEDA S PUSSY.
THEDA'S PUSSY.
Is this you, my pussy ?
Why, just now I saw
Your back rounded upward,
And nails on each claw.
You were spitting so fiercely,
Because Little Trip
Would, in your nice breakfast,
His saiicy mouth dip.
'Twas an ungallant action
In the dog, I own ;
But your cat indignation
Was too roughly shown.
It is very low manners,
To bluster and scratch ;
And it's worse, because useless
For Trip you're no match.
This is far more becoming
The soft velvet paw,
Which o'er cheek and o'er eyelid
I now love to draw.
Run, and set your ball rolling;
The ball you may strike
Whiz it off to the corner,
As hard as you like.
Now you're lovely, my pussy,
And mother smiles too ;
Oh ! we both think so pretty,
The spry tricks you do.
LATJEA ELMER. (L. E.)
PUKKWANA.
109
PUKKWANA
BV AUNT SUE.
20th of
Aug., 1794,
was a sad
day for some
of the poor
Indians, who,
after ineffec-
tual struggles to preserve their favorite
hunting grounds, were obliged to yield
to the superiority of the civilized over
the savage. Who can blame them for
the determined zeal with which they
sought to preserve sacred the graves
of their fathers ! But General Wayne
and his troops were too powerful for
them ; the white man conquered, and
a treaty of peace was drawn up and
signed.
Sadly the poor Indian retreated
farther into the forest, and scarcely
was he settled in his new home, be-
fore the axe of the pioneer again
sounded in his ears ; and these fre-
quent encroachments aroused a feeling
of resentment, and a desire for ven-
geance in many an Indian bosom.
One of the terms of the treaty was,
that if a white man murdered an In-
dian, the murderer should be given
over to the*Indians ; and if an Indian
murdered a white man, the Indian
should be surrendered.
For a long time the In-
dians complied faithfully
with their promises, but
in no case (although mur-
" . ders were frequent) was
a white murderer ever
given over to the Indians.
I need not tell you how
the red men were wrought
up to madness how they
burned dwellings, mur-
dered whole families, and took many
captives.
Some years after the date just men-
tioned, Richard Rolfe and his family
resided in a small village on the banks
of the Wabash River. One evening
they were about sitting down to sup-
per, when he missed his youngest son,
William, a fine little fellow about eight
years of age.
In those days, when the Indians
committed such depredations, the un-
usual or lengthened absence of any
member of the family produced much
anxiety and alarm.
"Where is Willie?" said his father,
addressing his daughter Gay.
"I don't know, father; I saw him
last about four o'clock, going toward
the woods with Carlo."
Mr. Rolfe looked uneasy, but merely
remarked, "It is time he was at
home."
"Hadn't I better go and look for
him, father?" said Robert, a lad of six-
teen ; and without waiting for an an-
swer, he seized his cap and rifle, and
ran out of the house. Mr. Rolfe was
not long in following his example, and
started for the woods ; there he heard
Robert calling for Willie, and he too
110
PUKKWANA.
joined his voice, but there was no re-
sponse.
As the daylight faded away, they
grew more and more anxious, and each
read in the other's face the thoughts
uppermost in their minds the In-
dians ! While they stood there unde-
cided what to do, they heard a slight
noise, and something came running
and panting toward them. Kobert
cocked his rifle; but it was Carlo,
poor little Carlo ! with a broken arrow
in one of his legs. At sight of him in
such a plight, the father and son grew
pale, feeling that their worst fears
were realized. Utterly paralyzed, Mr.
Eolfe could only ejaculate, "My boy!
my boy!" But Eobert, roused to
energy, exclaimed, " Father, let us
call out the village and go in pursuit,
they can not have gone far;" then
turning again to the dog (whose leg,
after extracting the arrow, he had
bound up with his handkerchief), he
said, loudly, "where are they, Carlo?
seek them !" The poor fellow seemed
to understand, for he limped to his
feet and began snuffing about, going in
the direction from which he had just
come.
"Father," said Eobert, hurriedly,
"let us go at once, while the trail is
fresh Carlo will lead us. You stay
here with the dog, and I'll be back in
fifteen minutes with all the lads in the
country; don't fret, father, we'll get
Willie back again, never fear;" and off
he started with the speed of an ante-
lope, giving his father no time to utter
a word or suggest an idea. Not wish-
ing to frighten his mother and sister
with a knowledge of the worst, he
merely told them not to be alarmed if
his father and himself did not return
until late, as he was going to get the
neighbors to scour the woods for Wil-
lie, who had most likely lost his way.
But let us go back a little, and see
what has become of poor Willie. Ga-
thering nuts and playing with Carlo,
he had strayed farther away from
home than usual, and was about
returning, when suddenly the dog
growled and flew toward a clump of
bushes near by; up sprang two In-
dians who had been stealing cautiously
toward the boy, hoping to seize and
bind him before he could give any
alarm. The brave little fellow strug-
gled manfully, and one of the Indians
seizing him by the hair, raised his
tomahawk ; but before he could strike,
the other arrested his arm, saying,
"Let the young cub live we will give
him to Pukkwana, who mourns for her
young hawk."
Willie understood their language,
having learned it from some friendly
Indians with whom he had spent much
of his time. Meanwhile Carlo kept on
barking, and the tomahawk was again
raised to dispatch him, when Willie,
forgetting everything but the poor
dog's danger, shouted " Go home,
Carlo! go home, sir!" Carlo obeyed;
but as he ran off, one of the Indians
drew his bow, and his aim was all too
true, for the arrow pierced the dog's
leg.
Willie was a good deal frightened as
they dragged him along toward the riv-
er ; but when he found that he was not
to be killed and scalped immediately, he
took heart, and comforted himself with
the thought that "Father and Eobert
would release him somehow or other."
After rather a long walk through the
woods, they came to the river, where a
canoe was fastened to a log; this they
untied, and, getting into it, paddled
their way, for some miles, up the river,
until they came to a little bay which
set into the shore. There was just
light enough to show Willie two wig-
PUKKWANA.
Ill
THE ENCAMPMENT.
warns on one of the points of land
which projected into the bay. This
was their destination. Reaching the
bank they sprang out, and telling Wil-
lie to follow, made their way toward
the wigwams. They entered one, in
which was an old woman and a young
Indian about twelve years old. " See,
mother," said one of the Indians, " we
have brought you a young dee.r; shall
he stay and sleep in Begwa's empty
blanket ? Ondaqua's tomahawk is sharp
and thirsty he would have the young
deer's scalp ; shall he take it?"
The old squaw looked up sadly at
the empty blanket, then at Willie, and
motioned to the Indians that they
might leave him. She then spread
food before them, and offered Willie
some, but his heart was too full to eat;
nevertheless he choked back the tears
which were ready to flow, having
heard that captives had regained their
liberty by a display of courage and
fortitude, and the brave little fellow
determined to earn his. After eating
and smoking for about half an hour,
the two men left, and the Indian boy
rolled himself in some skins on the
floor, and was soon asleep. The old
woman, Pukkwana, questioned Willie
about his capture ; he told her every-
thing connected with it, and then
asked her if she wouldn't let him go
home.
" The young deer," she replied, " is
the son of the white man ; they steal
our hunting grounds, they hunt us
like wolves, they kill our sons, they
plow up our graves ; the young deer's
father is a pale face."
" My father," said Willie, indignant-
ly, "is Richard Rolfe; he never stole
anything, and never killed an Indian."
At the name of Richard Rolfe, the
old woman, although an Indian, start-
112
PUKKWANA.
ed. "Say that name again," she said;
Willie repeated it.
Drawing the child nearer to her,
she said : " The young deer is safe in
the lodge of Pukkwana; not a hair of
his head shall he harmed; ere two
more suns shall rise, he shall be safe
in the home of his father. Listen.
Pukkwana had a son, Oloompa, active
as the wild stag, strong as the young
lion, gentle as the dove ; but the white
man stole upon him and shot him like
a dog! Pukkwana saw the sun go
down, and Oloompa came not ; she went
out into the night and called his name,
but he came not ; two white hunters
heard her, came, and helped her to
find her son. There he lay in the long
damp grass^ with his life-blood drop-
ping away. The hunters bound up
his wound, and gently carried him to
his mother's lodge. For
six days they watched
him, and brought food
and game for his mother,
and Oloompa grew well
and strong. One of those
hunters was the young
deer's father !
" Pukkwana is grateful,
she will give him back
his son. Now eat and
sleep."
Willie took her hand
and thanked her, and,
after eating a small piece
of corn bread, prepared
to sleep upon a pile of
skins which. Pukkwana
spread for him. Kneeling
down he prayed aloud,
that God would bless his
" dear father and mother,
relations and friends, the
poor Indian, and every-
body else." The old wo-
man stood with her hands
crossed on her breast while he was
praying, and gently pulled the skins
over him when he laid down. He
slept comfortably until late in the
morning. Meanwhile Pukkwana had
roused the Indian boy, and after tell-
ing him the story of Oloompa, bade
him take the canoe, seek the two
Indians, and tell them that they must
take the child back to his home again.
The Indians, as quick to return a kind-
ness as they are to revenge an injury,
readily agreed, and, mustering a party
of " braves" in case of attack, they set
out with Willie, intending to leave him
in the woods where they found him.
Pukkwana (who had just lost her
youngest son) sadly bade him farewell,
commended him to the care of the
Great Spirit, and saying, " Let the
young deer tell his father that Oloom-
T1IK RESTORATION.
SPRING. A NEW SCHOOL GLOBE.
113
pa's mother sent him home." She
went back into the wigwam and closed
the entrance.
And what had "Willie's father been
doing all this time? Eobert did return
in "fifteen minutes" with more than
twenty of the neighbors; who were
always ready to turn out at a mo-
ment's warning. Carlo led them to
the edge of the river, but there he
could go no farther; it was nearly
dark, they had no boat, and felt it
would be useless to attempt anything
more that night. Sadly Mr. Eolfe and
Eobert returned to their home. How
could they tell the mother that her
youngest, her darling, had been stolen
by the Indians !
All that night they spent in making
preparations to start early in the morn-
ing. The neighbors turned put en
masse ; Mr. Eolfe took half their num-
ber with him, in boats ; Eobert led the
rest through the woods.
The party on the river examined
the shore on both sides as they rowed
along, hoping to find the tracks they
sought. Thus half the morning was
spent, when presently as they turned
a sharp corner, they saw a group of
Indians on the bank opposite and Wil-
lie with them. Each white man
seized his rifle, and prepared for a
deadly fight; but one of the Indians
raised the boy on his shoulders and
waded into the stream, while Willie
beckoned to the boats, and shouted to
his father, that the Indians were
"friendly."
Need I say any more ? Feed I tell
how the father wept for joy how
Eobert threw up his hat, and went
through all sorts of extraordinary per-
formances in the exuberance of his
delight? Suffice it to add that the
Indians ever after held that village
harmless for Eichard Eolfe's sake.
NEW SERIES. VOL.' V. NO. 8
SPRING.
WINTER, with its icy gems,
Withered leaves and frozen stems,
And bright, frosty diadems ;
Winter, with its snow and ice,
With its sleighing gay and nice,
Passed us by within a trice.
AH the earth is clothed in green,
Hill and valley smile serene,
Flowers deck the land I ween.
Here the farmer guides his plow,
W^ile upon yon leafy bough
Birds their nests are building now.
Not a sympathetic sound
Echoes o'er the grassy ground,
For the old king Spring discrowned.
Flowers round us odors fling,
Birds and breezes gayly sing
Carols for the new-born Spring.
WEST UNION, OHIO. MATTIE BELL.
A NEW SCHOOL GLOBE.
PROFESSOR FORREST SHEPHERD, of
New Haven, has prepared a very in-
genious and serviceable globe. It is
made of slate, and htmg in a slate
frame, on which are marked divisions
for zones, the names of which, and
their products, are to be written upon
it with a soap-stone pencil. It has a
graduated brass scale for guidance in
drawing parallels of latitude, and other
circles upon the globe. Another scale
directs the position of meridians. The
object is to oblige the pupil to form his
own globe, and thus insure his under-
standing and recollection of the funda-
mental principles of geography, which
are generally so superficially studied.
By its aid these have been made in-
teresting and clear even to very young
children. In the same way it assists
greatly in astronomy The upper part
consists of a cone cut into its constit-
uent parts, and has done good service
in studying conic sections. A. E. W.
114
MIKK SMITHY.
WAYSIDE FOUNTAIN.
MIKE SMILEY.
BY W. CUTTER. '
Sueh stuff are Yankees made of.''
CHAPTER VI.
I
IKE SMILEY now became an ob-
ject of public notice. Mr. Ralston,
who was struck with his singular abil-
ity to master whatever he undertook,
encouraged him to prosecute his studies
to the utmost, freely advancing him all
the means necessary to the accomplish-
ment of an object so near hia heart.
When his education was completed,
and he was admitted to the bar, Mr.
Ralston took him into his own office,
the better to introduce him to the rou-
tine of business.
He had been but a few months in .
this situation, when a singular accident
occurred, which greatly assisted in
bringing him into the very foreground
of his profession. Mr. Ralston had
been engaged in a very important case,
which had been contested for many
years, and which was now about to be
brought to a close. The parties were
both eager for an immediate issue, but
Mr. Ralston's client had procured a
long delay, in order to bring on some
witnesses, who had been long absent
at sea.
All was now ready, and the day
of trial fixed. Mike, who in hunt-
ing up authorities, copying and com-
paring documents, and writing out
heads of arguments, had made himself
acquainted with all the principles in-
volved, as well as with the facts in the
case, had entered into it with all the
energy and ardor of his soul. The
court was held in a county-town, about
thirty miles from the city. Mike, or
rather Mr. Smiley, had gone thither
by the stage. Mr. Ralston, for the
benefit and pleasure of the exercise,
started on horseback, on the same
noble steed by whose means our younc;
hero was first made acquainted with
his patron and now partner. The
horse was somewhat advanced in
MIKE SMILEY.
115
years, but had lost very little of his
early fire and beauty.
The country through which he pass-
ed was, for the most part, in a high
state of cultivation, occasionally diver-
sified with scenes of wild and romantic
beauty. He sometimes traveled for
miles through forests, clothed in all
the gorgeous hues of a New England
autumn, and sometimes paused to let
his horse drink from some natural
basin, into which the silver thread of
a miniature stream trickled, or leapt
from the abrupt termination of a hill.
About mid-way in his journey, it be-
came necessary to cross a bridge over
a narrow creek, or arm of the sea, in
the middle of which was an ill-con-
structed draw, for the benefit of ves-
sels occasionally passing up and down
the creek. The draw had been opened
that morning, and, though apparently
replaced, was not properly secured.
Mr. Ralston was the first to pass over
it, and, being in a profound study upon
the knotty points of his case, did not
perceive that anything was out of the
way. No sooner, however, was his
full weight brought upon the draw,
than it gave way at once, and plunged
both the horse and his rider into the
deep water below.
With singular presence of mind,
though not without great difficulty,
Mr. Ealston kept his seat in the sad-
dle ; and his noble steed, not unused to
the water, rising to the surface, strug-
gled bravely to reach the shore. Here,
however, was a difficulty almost insur-
mountable. Though the creek was
narrow, the bank was absolutely per-
pendicular, and of a soft clayey con-
sistency, that allowed nothing like a
foothold. After many unsuccessful
attempts, Mr. Ralston bethought him-
self of an expedient to effect his own
escape, if he could not save his horse.
Suddenly springing to his feet upon the
saddle, he gave a powerful leap toward
the bank, and just succeeded in gain-
ing it, so as to secure himself by grasp-
ing the long, tough grass on its edge.
He now took a rail from a fence near
by, and proceeded to break away the
sharp angle of the bank, in the hope
that it might make a path for his
horse. In this he was so far success-
ful, that, in half an hour from the time
he commenced, he was enabled to re-
mount and ride home. Fortunately he
had emerged from the creek on the
side toward the city, and was, there-
fore, not obliged to go round a great
distance, in order to procure a change
of clothing.
The season was October ; and an
exposure for so long a time, to the cold
air, in wet clothing, was not without
serious consequences. Mr. Ralston
was obliged to take to his bed at once,
where he was confined some weeks
with a violent fever, and in imminent
danger of his life.
In the mean time, the court had as-
sembled, the parties were there with
their witnesses, and everything waited
for the arrival of Mr. Ralston. As it
had been positively arranged at the
previous session, that the case should
come on that day, and that a proposal
for any further continuance from either
of the parties should be equivalent to
a non-suit, the opposing party endea-
vored to avail himself of this unex-
pected delay, pretending that it was a
premeditated ruse to procure a respite,
which could not be had in any other
way. Mr. Smiley, who fortunately
had the satchel with all the papers,
finding that the day was wearing
away, and knowing that all would be
lost, if something were not done im-
mediately, proposed to the judge to
commence the case, as Mr. Ralston
r
116
GONE ALL GONE !
would undoubtedly be there in a short
time. It was a terrible step for poor
Mike. Not only were hundreds of
thousands pending upon the result, but
Mr. Kalston's standing and fame as a
lawyer were at stake. He hoped to be
able to consume time in unimportant
preliminaries, till his partner arrived.
His partner did not come, however,
and it was not many hours before
Mike knew that the whole case had
devolved all at once upon him. His
opponents would not listen to a post-
ponement, though the hand of Provi-
dence had seemed to make it necessary.
And the case came on. Mike was all
alone ; his whole frame was agitated ;
but his mind was clear and bold. He
had grasped all the points in the case ;
he had measured the length and
breadth of his antagonist ; and with
the desperate energy of one who has
everything to lose, or everything to
gain in a single throw, put forth his
utmost efforts to do justice to the
cause. It was a wonderful effort.
The examination of the witnesses the
statement of his case the detection
and exposure of the weak points and
sophistries of his opponent the laying
down of the principles of law the
argument and appeal to the jury all
of every part would have done credit
to the most experienced lawyer of the
bar. It was not only a wonderful
effort, but a successful one ; and Mike
had the proud satisfaction, at the end
of the week, of announcing to Mr.
Ealston, in his sick room, the favor-
able verdict.
Here ends our story of Mike Smiley.
From such a beginning, it is not diffi-
cult to predict a brilliant and useful
career. Temperance, industry, virtue,
and the fear of God, are a capital on
which no young man ever failed to win
the highest reward.
GONE -ALL GONE!
BY the bubbling fount 'mid the green-
wood shades,
In the leafy world of the forest glades,
N~o more the birds at the blush of
morn
Trill their sweet notes; they are gone
all gone !
Voices of summer, I've listed long
For the witching strains of your matin
song;
Through the woodland dim, o'er the
rustling lawn,
I have sought you oft ; but you're
gone all gone !
No more do you start in your still re-
treat
At the thundering tramp of the horses'
feet,
Or the wandering note of the bugle
horn ;
But the woods are mute, for you're
gone all gone !
'Mid the wild wood's haunts, through
your lonely nests
The rude winds play, and the snow-
wreath rests
In their yielding curve, while in jeer-
ing scorn
The cold blast whistles, "Gone all
gone!"
They say that ye sing 'neath a sunnier
arch
Of the azure skies, where the seasons'
march
Brings but one endless vernal dawn ;
But my heart is sad, for you're gone
gone ! FLETA FOBEESTEE.
FEW have been taught to any pur-
pose who have net been greatly their
own teachers.
UNCLE HIRAM'S PILGRIMAGE.
Sfe
UNCLE HIRAM'S PILGRIMAGE.
,-i^,&~ r i"- '-^M> ^ A< te>
we are, waiting
to hear 6f your
* Jjjj.v'progress. If you stand
so long at every corner,
you will hardly live to
see the end of Broad-
way.
I never expect to see the end of it,
my dear; for it grows faster than I
can travel. It now stretches miles
away into the country. But, little by
little, we will see what we can.
Frank. Is Broadway very wide ?
No. There are many streets in the
city wider than this. When it was
first laid out, while the city was but
little more than a village, and the
houses were all low, it was considered
very spacious. And so it was, for
the use then required of it. But, at
the present time, when most of the
buildings, on both sides, are seven
and eight stories high, and the street
is the principal thoroughfare of a city
of nearly a million of people, it is very
inconveniently narrow.
To proceed My antiquarian friend
was not disposed to drop the subject
he had taken up w r ith so much in-
terest. He entertained me with the
history of St. Paul's of the Astor
House, of the Museum the Park
Theater, and many other prominent
objects in this vicinity. He walk-
ed with me some distance, and enter-
tained me much by his remarks, and
his enthusiasm in all matters relating
to this " great city." While standing
near the Astor House, he called my
attention to the gates, at the southern
extremity of the Park, opposite, and
informed me that the balls on the top
of the gate-posts were brought from
the site of the ancient city of Troy.
They are about fourteen inches in
diameter, perfectly round, and appar-
ently of brown granite, or sandstone.
In what position they were found
there, or what may have been their
origin, or purpose, my friend could
not inform me.
Harry. Perhaps they are some of
the thunderbolts of old Jove, left on
the battle-field.
Elsie. More likely they are the mar-
bles used by the giants in their sports.
Whatever may have been their
origin, or use, they now occupy a con-
spicuous place at the main entrance to
the Park ; while not one in ten thou-
sand of those pass them daily knows
anything of their history, or looks
upon as any other than ordinary
ornaments to a gate-post.
While talking of these matters, an
amusing incident occurred, near by,
which illustrates one of the innumer-
able phases of Broadway life. A
hand-organ, with the usual accom-
paniment of a monkey, as a tax-
gatherer, was grinding out its uncouth
measures, opposite the door of a fash-
ionable Hair Dressing Establishment ;
while the monkey, full of his pranks,
118
UNCLE ULRAM 8 PILGRIMAGE.
was investigating every object of in-
terest in the vicinity.
Presently the door opened, and a
very genteel, carefully-dressed man,
with gold spectacles and a gold-headed
cane, came out. The monkey, who, just
then, was amusing himself, by reach-
ing through the meshes of a wire win-
dow-skreeri, for pea-nuts, which the
HIGHWAY KOBBEBY
boys threw . at him, mischievously
seized the gold spectacles, and en-
deavored to escape with thorn. This
proved a more difficult matter than
he imagined, as they were hooked be-
hind the ears of the wearer, who did
not at all relish either the rude scratch-
ing of his ears, or this public derange-
ment of his toilet. In the scuffle
which ensued, the gentleman's highly
polished hat fell to the pavement,
and was trampled under foot by the
crowd. His cravat was left in a state
of unseemly disorder, and his temper
was ruffled, like the sea in a storm,
or a courtier in the time of Queen
Bess. The monkey succeeded, at
length, in getting possession of the
spectacles, though
in a damaged con-
dition ; and then,
springing to the
top of an awning-
post, out of the
reach of the en-
raged dandy, he
coolly attempted
to adjust them to
his own ugly phiz.
This was a diffi-
cult matter, as he
did not under-
stand how to
make them hold
on. Having made
several unsuccess-
ful attempts, dur-
ing which the
crowd shouted
and cheered him
on, he flung them
down, and sprang
across the awn-
ing, into one of
the windows of
the Astor House.
Frank. I thought these monkeys
were always chained to the organ.
This one had been chained, but had
got loose. It was some hours before he
was caught, during which he led his
pursuers a chase all over the house.
Meanwhile, the discomfited exqui-
site had swallowed his rage, refitted
his toilet, and gone on his way.
THE BEAVERS OF LAKE SUPERIOR.
119
THE BEAVERS OF LAKE SUPERIOR.
searching through
the whole race of
quadrupeds, you will
hardly find a more
curious animal than the bea-
ver, or one whose habits will
better repay long hours of pa-
tient study. During the summer which
I spent on the shores of Lake Superior,
I had several excellent opportunities
(which you may be sure I improved)
of making myself familiar with the
operations of these wonderful mechan-
ics ; and I must give you some account
of what I saw and heard of them.
About seventeen miles from Mar-
quette, eight hundred feet above the
level of Superior, is nestled down, like
a gem on the brow of the mountain,
a pretty little sheet of water, called
Seal Lake. It is two miles long, by
less than one broad. All around it,
their fair forms reflected from the sur-
face of the water, are "evergreens of
different varieties and of different hues.
On the margin of this lake so near
that the waves almost reach its thresh-
old is the summer residence of Mr.
James L. Eeynolds. Here it was my
privilege to spend several days very
pleasantly. Not to say anything about
the older members of the family, of
whose hospitality and kindness, how-
ever, I might speak in the warmest
terms, there were five or six inmates
of the cottage who more properly be-
longed to our class, and whom, like a
fond uncle as I am, I took the liberty
of installing as my nephews and nieces.
Well, I had fine times there with
those children, and assure you we
fished for perch, adroitly catching
some, and kindly leaving many. We
rowed all over the lake in a little
boat. We rolled down great rocks
from the brow of a precipice into a
deep gorge. We hunted wild flowers,
rode on horseback, and did sundry
other things, as the advertisements of
country merchants sometimes say of
the stock in their stores, " too nu-
merous to mention." But none of our
adventures .pleased me so well as our
rambles among the beavers. Mr. Dun-
can, the grandfather of these nephews
and nieces of mine, had found two
dams, that were built by these animals,
and he showed ns the way to them.
" But do the beavers really build
dams?" I hear you ask.
Certainly they do, and very well-
built and substantial dams they are,
too, so tight that scarce any water can
find its way through them.
"Why, what is the use of these
dams, Uncle Frank ?"
There may be several uses, for
aught I know ; but the principal one
is, to raise the water deep enough to
make a pond, so that they can build
their houses properly. These houses
are very unlike those of other ani-
mals ; they are built under the bank,
and are two stories high ; one story is
under and the other above water.
The only entrance to a beaver's house
is through the water. There is no
door opening from the land.
120
THE BEAVERS OF LAKE SUPERIOR.
The most perfect of these dams was
perhaps half a mile from the outlet of
Seal Lake, on a little stream which
the lake supplies. It was, I should
think, three or four rods in length,
reaching, of course, across the stream.
The workmanship of the dam is cu-
rious enough. The beavers first make
a sort of frame-work of the limbs of
trees, and then plaster this frame-work
on the upper side all over with clay
or mud.
You will wonder, unless you are
familiar with the habits of these ani-
mals, how they obtain the timber
which they use in their dams. They
cut down trees just like any wood-
man, and use such parts of them as
are adapted for the purpose in their
dams. I saw a good many trees which
the beavers had just cut down ; they
were of different sizes, the largest
which I saw measuring five inches in
diameter. In felling a tree, and in
cutting it into pieces afterward, the
beavers take out a chip, precisely after
the fashion universally practiced at
our wood-piles.
The plastering process, too, is quite
as curious as the building of the frame-
work of the dam. This is effected by
means of a trowel such as masons use.
Don't smile now , I am in earnest.
Their tails are exactly fitted for this
work. They have something like scales,
instead of hair, upon them. They are
flat, some nine or ten inches long, and
averaging two or three in breadth.
The tail of the beaver, by the way, is
a very useful appendage. It serves as
a rudder when the animal is in the
water, and when occasion requires he
can use it as a shovel.
It is astonishing how rapidly these
architects do their work. Mr. Dun-
can tells me this remarkable story
about a family of them which built
one of the very dams he visited. He
discovered, one day, that the water
was rising in the lake. For days he
was greatly perplexed about this mat-
ter. He could not imagine what
caused this sudden rise in the lake.
At length, tracing the stream down
some distance from the outlet, he
came across this dam, which solved
the mystery at once. For some rea-
son, he was not willing to have the
water rise above its ordinary level ; so
he demolished the dam. There were,
he thought, at least two cords of wood
in it. The beavers, it would seem,
were as desirous of keeping the water
up, as he was of keeping it down. To
the great surprise of Mr. Duncan, they
rebuilt the whole structure in a single
night ; and what is more wonderful
still, they built it entirely of new and
green timber, cut down for the occa-
sion. Not a stick which was employ-
ed in the old dam appeared in the
new.
Again the dam was torn down, and
again it was built up in the same man-
ner, and in an equally short space of
time as before. This process was re-
peated four or five times before the
persevering beavers abandoned their
enterprise.
Beavers live principally on the bark
of trees. They don't come out of their
houses generally in the winter season,
but supply themselves in the autumn
with all the food they will need until
the following spring. So you see that
what with the timber used in their
dams, and that which they lay up for
food, the beavers have a good deal of
wood-chopping to do. When I was
at Seal Lake, they were busy laying
in their stock of provisions for winter.
They cut their logs, for this purpose,
in pieces about five feet in length.
DNCLE FKANK.
THE CHINESE WALL.
121
THE CHINESE WALL.
THEKE is not, perhaps, in the world
-*- a more stupendous work of art
than the Great Wall, which marks the
northern boundary of the Chinese
Empire, dividing it from Tartary. It
is fifteen hundred miles in length,
traversing mountains and valleys, and
crossing rivers and ravines, and sur-
mounting, with a permanent barricade,
every variety of obstacle, and feature
of the country. It is said to have been
built 250 years before Christ. If so, it
is, of course, about 2,100 years old.
The Tartars comprised numerous
wild and wandering tribes, who lived
partly by hunting, and partly by plun-
der. They belonged to that extensive
race, known to ancient history as
-Scythians, and to mediaeval history as
Huns. They were more warlike than
the Chinese, and were greatly dreaded
as enemies. To protect himself from
their continual incursions, the Empe-
ror Chi-hoang-ti projected this work,
and proceeded at once to erect it. To
provide a sufficient number of men to
accomplish such a work during his
own reign, he compelled one out of
three of all the laboring men in the
Empire to enter his service, giving
them no compensation beyond a bare
supply of food.
This wall commenced at the Gulf of
Pechelee, on the east, about 180 miles
northeast of Pekin, and extended to
the western border of the province of
Shensi. Its height was twenty-two
feet. Its breadth was sufficient to al-
low six horsemen to ride abreast upon
it ; that is to say, probably about twen-
ty-five feet. It was fortified by strong
towers, built at equal distances of about
100 yards, in which guards were sta-
tioned. It was composed of two walls
of solid masonry, the spaces between
them being filled with earth. The
whole was completed in the short
space of five years. It would seem
incredible to us, in this land of free-
dom, that such a gigantic work could
be accomplished by the mere arbitrary
will of one man. Many of the great
works of antiquity are monuments of
despotism as well as of art.
122
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
torrjr's
Ctmt toitft ([is frim&s.
UR CHAT
for April
opens with an
unusual feel-
ing of sadness.
Uncle Frank is
sick, and away
from home. On
his return from
the West he was
* VJ? obliged to stop at
Buffalo, where he has been detained some
weeks. He is in the hands of very kind
friends, and almost as comfortable as if
at home. We are hoping soon to see his
genial face again. And we know all our
kind nephews and nieces will sympathize
with us in our sadness, and breathe a
prayer for his speedy recovery.
We have also a very touching letter
from "Carrie," at Appleton, Wis., giv-
ing a very interesting account of two
dear little brothers, Willie and Sammy,
who have recently been taken to a better
world. They both died in one week. It
is sad, but oh! how sweet, to have a
dying child singing, " I want to be an
angel !" There are many houses in our
land that have the same cloud over them.
We hope they all have the same " silver
lining." We would like to give the
whole of Carrie's letter, but we have not
room, and do not like to cut it up.
CHICAGO, Feb. 16, 1858.
DEAR UNCLES MERR.Y AND FRANK :
Years ago, first as " Parley's Magazine,"
afterwards as MERRY'S MUSEUM, your
dear little monthly regularly gladdened
the hearts of an elder brother and sister
of mine, in our happy Eastern home.
Brother considers the scientific know-
ledge he gained from the MUSEUM of
much value to him ; and the amusement
it afforded for both brother and sister
will ever be remembered by them as one
of the greatest pleasures of their child-
hood. Now it comes to us again like a
dear old friend. We all wish it " long life
and much joy" in its " new relations."
My brother is married, and has a dear
little boy, who will, ere long, be old
enough to take the same little friend
that his father took before him.
Sister Ellen wants to know what has
become of " Uncle Bob Merry's Wooden
Leg" if that celebrated member has
been displaced for one of more modern
manufacture ?
In a letter to Uncle Frank I saw two
names (" Green Bay," and immediately
after, " Lottie E. Porter") that sent a
thrill of pleasure through my heart.
Lottie is a very lovable girl a dear
friend of ours. 1 have been in her happy
Green Bay home. I love her dearly.
Will Uncle Frank please give much love
to her for me ?
Dear Uncles, is there just a little room
for me among the many happy cousins
that form the " Merry circle :"
May not I be one of your affectionate
nieces? MARIE BURNHAM.
Tell Ellen that Uncle Merry's leg has
grown out again. Welcome., Marie
welcome always.
NEW IPSWICH, N.H., March 1, 1858.
DEAR UNCLK HIRAM : Do you re-
member the little girl you took into your
lap once, and called " Flibbertigibbet :"
I never shall forget the call, with my
mother and auntie, at your office, and
how kindly you and Uncle Merry enter-
tained me. If I only COULD have kept
still when you tickled me so ! But you
couldn't get me into that huge basket
bag ! I am so glad of that .
I wish I could go again into the sanc-
tum room, while you might allow me a
peep into that nice box upon the table,
for the letters so choice as to be marked
" in." Then the many great books, also ;
MERRY 8 MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FBIEND8.
123
I should like to look them all over.
Those shelves, so full of blocks, too ! I
wish you would tell the Merry family
about those blocks how pictures are
made for the MUSEUM from them. I
enjoy very much your " Pilgrimage"
love to talk about it. I never forget to
tell the cousins Uncle Hiram is " sixteen
years old, and a little more." What shall
1 tell them, if they ask the color of your
hair ? Your affectionate niece,
FLORA P. S.
Happy to hear from you, Flora Flib-
bertigibbet P. S. But where have you
been all this time ? If I had buried you
in that " huge bag," under the papers,
or ''marked" you into the letter-box,
you would not have been more silent.
Perhaps you haven't got over that laugh-
ing fit till now, so as to be able to write.
But verily, Flib, you must come again.
We will tell the young folks about those
" blocks," one of these days. But, if we
fill their heads with blocks, is there not
danger that they will become block-
heads ? H. H. 16+
BATAVIA, Jan. 27, 1858.
DEAR MK. MERRY: Will you have
the kindness to introduce me in the
circle, for I have taken the MUSEUM six
months, and have been very much de-
lighted with it. The MUSEUM is an in-
teresting and useful book.
Yours truly, B. S.
ST. CLAIRSVILE, Feb. 15, 1858.
MY DEAK UNCLE ROB : I may come
in, mayn't I ? I only want to tell you
of a discovery I have made, and intro-
duce a new niece and cousin into the
circle. In a gay gathering at a friend's
house, a few evenings since, I unex-
pectedly discovered a Merry cousin in
the room. Delighted (for I love the
MUSK UM in my old age as well as I did
in my youth), I spoke to her of it, and
found she had not grown out of interest
in the Chat, if it did belong to her
younger brothers ; and now T write to
introduce her. Uncles Rob, Hi, and
Frank, Aunt Sue, and Cousins all, allow
me to introduce to you Maria, as one
worthy a place at the table, and a corner
in the Chat, Draw her out, Uncle ; she
will never " speak unless she says some-
thing." Speak up, Maria ; don't be bash-
ful. There's not an ill-natured person
in the crowded room, I know.
What's the matter with " Simple (?)
Bess ?" Has she got the St. Vitus' dance ?
That's all. Good-bye.
Yours-for ever, BLACK-EYES.
Thank you, Black-Eyes welcome Ma-
ria. But, we are to draw you out,
which, we take it, means, to draw lots
for you. We have done so, and you fall
to Uncle Hiram He expects you to
speak out, and to speak often, and to
keep Black- Eyes in order.
" CITY OF ELMS," Feb. 20, 1858.
DEAR EDITORS : After a long silence,
I once more venture into the Chat. Am
I utterly forgotten by all around ? Hop-
ing to the contrary, I continue.
So Mrs. B. E. thought she had hus-
banded her secret " quite long enough !"
What a terrible " blow" the noose must
have been to W. H. C. ! " Laura," I feel
quite honored by my introduction to you.
Don't look so astonished ! Put down your
ear (there is an alias in the case
" Sigma" has resigned). " Tennessean,"
you may hear too. I am glad you think
that your " Northern Cousins" are
more respectable than your " Southern."
"Bess" is startling! Truly, she is
" thunder in' original." Alas! it seems
that
The dear quadruplication,
And discumfumbobulation,
Heeding not her intimation
Made in transubstantiation
Of each well-known appellation
Gave more sudden termination
Than was Bess's expectation,
To the learned communication
Seeking by tergiversation
To excuse the derogation,
The daring disseveration,
The hiramhatchetization !
" Prairie Blossom," if you think me
" decidedly a pos?" I think you morn
decidedly a " po-se !" " Adelbert," you
are an old friend shake hands. " Timid
Birdie" may come under my " wing"
whenever she is disposed to. "Nip"
" misery likes company" do you wish
mine ? " Aunt Sue," how is it that
Uncle Frank, just now, superseded you
in your relationship to us ? But
Yours in haste,
FLETA FOUEESTER.
124
MEKEY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FEIENDS.
BUDGET OF CURIOSITIES FROM FLETA
FORRESTER.
A few filings from the bar of justice.
A ring from the finger of time.
The rope with which an audience hung
upon the words of an orator.
The needles with which Washington
knit his brows.
A buckle from a belt of woodland.
A new feature from the face of the
country.
A tooth from a honey-comb.
The thread of a discourse.
The optic nerve from the eye of a nee-
dle.
A wrinkle from the brow of a hill
A pebble from the hill of science.
The heart of a great city.
A page from the Book of Fate.
CURIOSITIES FROM PANSY.
A drop of blood from the heart of oak.
A needle for the thread of a discourse.
A splinter from the arrow of love.
A leaf from the tablets of memory.
Key to the gates of happiness.
One of the dregs from the cup of fate.
A piece of the cloak of iniquity : also a
sample of the fabric of lies.
The hood of deception.
A drop of water to wash out the stain
of dishonor.
Some of the contents of " a pretty ket-
tle of fish."
The wing of the dog that flew at me
yesterday.
A spark from the lamp of truth.
The glance from the green-eyed mon-
ster.
GLENANNA, Feb. 5, 1858.
DEAR UNCLES, AUNT, AND COUBINS :
I do believe that you have not a single
correspondent from good old North Caro-
lina; and feeling a little mortified that
none of my states-men have taken a part
in any of the Merry contests, I feel my-
self forced, for the honor of my State
though I must confess that it is what
I've long desired to beg for an intro-
duction to some few of my 20,000 cousins.
I am quite diffident, and would rather
become acquainted by degrees, than to
meet them en masse. I must bid you
adieu now, till I see whether I am favor-
ably received or not.
With respects to " North and South,"
I remain, yours respectfully, -
PINE BURR.
MORRISTOWN, March 6, 1858.
DEAR MUSE(UM) : If the cold weather
had only come before the snow it would
have been very acceptable, for we should
have had lots of skating.
Good-bye, Nip May your shadow
never be less ! May you live long, and
may I live to see you ! I second the Ed.
Corps in desiring to hear from you while
in Europe Good-bye !
Have you ever noticed that the initials
of yourselves spell M^erry), U(ncle F.),
S(ue), A(unt), which means Muse? I
can't get in Uncle Hiram's; but maybe
somebody else can.
I had read on thus far in the March
number, when I came to " To our Sub-
scribers," and the " N. B." at the end of
that. The coolness of the latter has
made me cold so I must go sit by the
fire and warm.
Your affectionate nephew,
1
20000
I will help you to get me in M-U-S-H,
which, with a little sweetening, goes
down well. H. H.
BUNKER HILL, Feb. 24, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE FRANK : We have never
contributed to the CABINET before. This
is our first composition. We beg you to
excuse all mistakes and blunders. We
do not know what sort of reception it will
have ; but we hope it will have favor-
able one.
From your affectionate nieces,
S. H. & L. D.
LEXINGTON, KY., 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY : Here is my own
home ; I have been reading monthly rec-
ords of this civil war, longing to have my
say in defense of the just, of coursa. How
could my weak voice have been heard in
such a manly clangor of " dashes, daggers,
etc. ?" I declare this has been a second
Trojan war Black-Eyes playing the part
of Helen.
What a pity we havn't a Homer among
the Merry tribe to immortalize us !
When 1 wrote that other letter several
years ago, you asked to look in my bright
eyes again, and I translated it this wise
Won't you write again ? Yours in weal
or woe, YEMA.
Your translation was not only correct,
but happy, and we are happy to have you
take our meaning so readily. But what
do you think of " the hatchet ?"
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FKIENDS.
125
ANN ARBOR, MICH., Feb. 23, 1858.
MR. MERRY : Have you any Wolver-
ines in your MUSEUM ? If you have not,
here is one who would like to be admitted.
Tell the cousins not to be alarmed I am
only a Wolverine-boy, and by no means
the savage creature that my name would
suggest. Quite harmless, but noisy, per-
haps, for I never could appreciate that oft-
repeated saying that ' a little boy should
be seen and not heard," except, indeed,
when his lesson has not been learned ; on
the present occasion, therefore, would like
to be heard if not seen. Will you give me
a seat in the circle, for though not as wise
as some of the cousins, I am always
merry, when not sad ? Granted, there-
fore, that I have " a voice," I wish my
good cousins to congratulate, me for I have
had the happiness to see Uncle Frank
face to face, and give him a good shake
of the hand. I shall not soon forget his
pleasant countenance or his entertaining
lecture concerning the mischievous " tan-
trums" of old Vesuvius ; I often think
what a dear, good soul Uncle Frank was,
to devise such a feast of communion as
contained in the CABINET. My heart
seems to grow large with the love I feel
for our own dear Aunt, Uncles, and cou-
sins ; and I never lay down the book
without feeling that I am made happier
and better by its perusal. Oh ! I must
bite off my words, or feel the weight of
the "hatchet." Adieu Uncle and cousins
all. A. S. H. WOLVERINE.
BROOKLYN, Feb. 8, 1858.
Save the pieces ! the rags, fragments,
" mutilated MSS !" How could you,
Uncle Hiram ? Is that the way you treat
all your " Valentines .'" for if it is, you
ought never to receive another. (I don't
say you should not. ) But really I'm ag-
fravated, I'm excited, I'm worked up !
cissors ! I could almost shake you,
though you are my Uncle.
Chatters ! hear the story of my wrongs.
I sent our Uncle Hiram a well, I told
him he might call it a " Valentine" (but
he didn't) in " all sorts" of peotry (?)
and he w.ent and " chopped'' out the very
pith of the subject, and gave you the bark,
the two extremes ! He passes over in utter
silence my respectful inquiry about " that
enigma and those conundrums," and to
cap the climax wants me to " please ex-
cuse" him jus? because his " hatchet" was
newly ground ! Now, if / haven't cause
for aggravation, who has ? But I'll ' ' for-
give and forget" yet once again ; so, sweet
Uncle, please consider yourself ' : excused."
My dear " Black-Eyed Mary," receive
my congratulations; Ifelicitatejou. Mr.
Willie H. Coa/man, what a " double- and -
twisteder" you are ! your aliases ! ! f * t
etc., etc., are transparent : all=W. H. C.
himself. In your ear (no, no no whis-
pering in company) H. H. Sweet " Prai-
rie Blossom," I have been " all this time"
living along in a quiet way ; if you were
to see me, you wouldn't know me.
Forgivingly yours, BESS.
Bess, if. you run on so, we shall have to
borrow a carving-knife to help the hatchet
do its work. Just think, after all the
cutting and slashing done on the letters
now admitted, we have sixty more which
we are not able even to touch. Be short !
be very short ! ! Be shorter ! ! ! or Un-
cle Hiram will
PRINCETON, MERCER Co., VA.,
Feb. 23, 1858.
DEAR UNCLES FRANK. MERRY, AND
HIRAM : I am so delighted that I can
have the MUSEUM again for another year,
that I must tell you how it came in my
power to pay for it. In the January num-
ber there was a song called " The Snow-
bird" set to music. Father told me if I
would learn the song by heart, and get
mother to teach me to sing it from her (I
have not learned the notes of music yet
I am only ten years old), he would give
me a dollar ; so I set to, and learned the
song, and from mother singing it, I can
sing it too. So I got the dollar, which I
send to you, to pay for another year.
Your niece,
E. H. THOMPSON.
A beautiful way of changing musical
notes into bank-notes, and snow-birds
into books. We hold it up for an example
of " how to do it."
MAPLE GROVE.
Mr DEAR MERRY : I have been
standing alone in one corner of the
" family room," and have witnessed the
flashing of bright eyes and brighter wit
in the pen-and-ink battles which have
been waging, until I am impatient to take
part in the combat. Will you admit an
" old maid" to the monthly dish of chit-
chat ? I see you are all blushing for me,
and wondering how I dare to own that I
126
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
have reached the meridian of woman's
life, thirty, without acquiring the inter-
esting prefix, Mrs. But though I found
this morning a gray hair seemingly " at
home" among my locks, and though I am
now almost universally " missed," instead
of being called by the familiar name ,
my heart is just as young and warm as
when I first shook hands with " sweet six-
teen." And I should like to know and
love you all. Uncles, Aunt, and cousins,
may I join you, as " Cousin Kate," or
must I remain as now,
THE " MERRY LADYE."
" Cousin Kate," or " Merry Ladye,"
Anything you choose,
You shall have a seat of honor
Next to Auntie Sue's."
March 5th, 1858.
DKAR MR. MERRY : I inclose a few
conundrums, given me by a friend Have
you seen them before ?
Good-bye, Nip. May you have a pleas-
ant journey and a safe return. None
will miss you more than PANSY.
CHICAGO, March 2, 1858.
DEAR NIPPINIFIDGKT : So you are go-
ing to Europe won't you have an ele-
gant time ? How we shall miss your let-
ters ! I know you ar-3 a girl ; boys do
not generally write as spicy letters as
girls. You will write while you are in
Europe, won't you ? Good-bye. May
your anticipations be realized.
ANNIE DRUMMOND.
NORWALK, Feb., 1858.
DEAR UNCLE FRANK : I was ra-t-h-e-r
s-u-r-p-r-i-s-e-d to find B. E. rejoicing
in the prefix Mrs. Ask her if she would
invite me to take tea with her some time.
I should like to see how " crowing hens"
manage domestic aflairs. Willie C.
seems confounded. Hope he will recover
soon. I wonder if he had not been build-
ing air-castles, of which Mrs. B. E. was
presiding dame. Poor Willie! for an
onion ! Where is Aunt Sue ? I hope
these inquisitive tongues and pens have
not quite demolished her. I've brought
with me a budget of love to be distri-
buted among all the cousins except
" Tennessean." I presume he wants
nothing warmer than " respects" taken
from the sunny side of an iceberg from a
Northern cousin. Don't think to spite
us, T. ; we have bright smiles and warm
hearts, even north of Mason and Dixon's
line. But I see the hatchet is moving
uneasily ready to send me and my rat-
tling tongue to the " big basket," and I
must bid you all good-morning. There,
it is coming ! Clear the way I'm off.
CLIO.
MARION, SMYTH Co., VA.,
Feb. 15, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE FRANK : In the last
number of the MUSTJEM there is a repre-
sentation of a lady on horseback, whose
position is somewhat singular. I have,
after some hesitation, concluded to ask
you if the ladies in the North mount their
horses from the right or left side, as we
Virginians are accustomed to mount
ours from the left side. According to
our custom, the right side of the horse is
the wrong side, and the It- ft is the right
side for a lady's stirrup and position on
horseback. If the mode represented in
the cut referred to be correct, we desire
to know it, so that we may reform our
backwoods' habits. ' *
I remain, yours sincerely,
LIZZIE M. SHEFFEY.
You know, dear Lizzie, whatever they
may say in Congress, that the North is
always on the right side, and the ladies
both North and South know how to keep
on " the right ; ide" of everybody, and
why not of a horse ? You are very
frank, however, to confess so freely, that
your " right side is the wrong side." We
hope you will be " wise" enough to come
round and learn to ride as the
Spanish ladies do.
LITTLETON, ILL.., Mar. 5, 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY : I am a sick boy.
I should like to see all my cousins in their
snug parlor, and have an introduction ;
but as I would have to take my bed with
me, I fear there would not be room ; so
I must postpone the visit, hoping to be
acknowledged as one of you. I will try
to acquit myself creditably when I can
stand on my own footing again.
I am yours, with due respect,
WlLT.IE
All the Merrys send love to Willie, and
hope he will soon be restored to perfect
health, so that he can come and join the
"Chat."
MERRY S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
127
SPRINGFIELD, ILL., Feb. 12, 1858.
DEAR MR. MKRRY : Pray move aside
a little, and let me have a seat by the side
of Harry G , as a representative from
the Sucker State. I think the Chat is
letting its tongue loose from the length of
it ; but it is the best part of the MU-
SEUM. Where is our Willie H. Coleman,
West ? We have no representative in
the fight. Give my love to all, without
any distinction. Yours truly,
OSCAR BRADFORD, West.
Fox LAKE, March 5, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE MERRY : I have writ-
ten two letters before, but I supposed
they have seen Uncle Hiram's hatchet,
and were cut up and thrown in the big
box under the table ; but us the old prov-
erb says, Try, try again, so I will try
again. It would seem quite odd to see
one of my letters in .he Chat.
Your affectionate friend,
WILLIAM M.
Your former letter, like many others
sent to us, must have gone into Uncle
Sam's big basket, not Uncle Hiram's.
We never received them. Try, try again.
JACKSONVILLE, Feb. 9, 1857.
MY DEAR UNCLES AND AUNT : I take
much pleasure in reading the CABINET,
and finding out the puzzles ; though I
do not find out many of them. I wish I
had some of Willie Coleman's and Bessie's
brains. But I must be content with what
I have, and use them as well as I can.
Black- Eyes has entered the " matrimonial
ties ;" and I hope she may enjoy her future
life, and be a blessing to society. I have
never seen any letters from your nieces
in Jacksonville ; and I hope that I, as the
first, may not be entirely disregarded. I
very much regret that Uncle Frank did
not visit our place on his last tour to the
West. It is a very pretty place in summer.
If you wish to know who my father is,
I will tell you. My father is " Uncle Tim."
Your affectionate niece, EMMA.
ELIZABETH, March 1, 1858.
UNCLE HIRAM : I have been waiting
patiently for you to acknowledge Jersey
to be one of, or rather to be in, the United
States ; supposing you have, I address my-
self to you. Nip, if you see any of my
friends in Europe, give thorn my love.
Commodore, there is an empty chair on thi c
side of the room, if you are not too bash-
ful to sit among the girls. Sailors are
not generally troubled with timidity.
Uncle Hiram, I am quite straight since
you were here, and, by-the-by, I want to
give the Merry cousins a word of advice.
When Uncle Hiram comes to see you, you
must be straight and prim as can be, or
else you will have a lecture on sitting
straight, taking long breaths, etc., etc., as
I did. He don't use the awful hatchet
when he is talking himself.
Yours as ever, SALLIB.
That's right, Sallie pass that lecture
along. Many a young Merry will thank
Uncle Hiram for it, by-and-by, if it only
serves to keep them straight while they
are growing. Remember " Just as the
twig is bent the tree's inclined."
HANOVKR, March 2, 185P.
DEAR UNCLE MERRY: Will you ad-
mit a.nother nephew to your circle of
Frank and Merry boys and girls ? I had
been a subscriber to the MUSEUM for
about a year when it joined the CABINET,
which my sister had taken for some time,
but I never have ventured to address you
until now. Yours truly,
JERSEY BOY.
Yes we propose to admit Jersey into
the Union. You are welcome.
CAIRO, ILL., March 6, 1858.
DEAR UNCLES, AU*TS, AND COUSINS :
I hope you will accept me as one of
your friends. I live away down here in
Egypt not the ancient Egypt, but mod-
ern Egypt. I know you have heard of it.
It is between the Ohio and Mississippi,
and is very low. But there are high levees
all around it, to keep it from overflowing.
It is very healthy. I have lived here four
years ; I have been a subscriber to your
little book about one year, and I thought
I should like to become acquainted with
you all. Please introduce me. Good-bye.
MELVILL YOUNG.
Happy to see so young a specimen from
go ancient a country. Please send us
a stone from the pyramids, or one of
the bricks made by the Israelites. Now
you are introduced, all the Merrys shake
hands with you. Hope you will not be as
tired as General Jackson was, when Major
Jack Downing had to " lend him a hand"
128
MERRY S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
MADISON C. H., FLA.., Mar. 5, 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY : The March
number of the MUSEUM has just arrived
I am more pleased with this number than
with the preceding ones, because it has
improved in its typography and illustra-
tions, and has more of history and useful
information.
The Chat seems to be as interesting as
ever. Several new contributors appear
on its pages. Miss Nip attacks W. H. C.,
North, and myself with almost equal se-
verity. Thanks for this ! How could
you, Miss, refuse a kiss ? 'And how could
I help offering one, when you chatted so
sweetly? But a "pleasant good-bye,"
and more still, a happy and agreeable
trip over the Atlantic waves and through-
out the Old World.
Welcome to the new contributors.
Yours, for more history, biography, and
less of fiction,
ALONZO C. WHITNISR.
Answers to Questions in Feb. No.
13. She is encompassed with hoops.
14. 1. Isothermal. 2. Metaphysics. 3.
Pomegranates. 4. Misanthrope. 5.
Righteousness. 6. Nightingales.
15. He is an ill-bred (bread) man.
16. In-dus-try.
17. It makes Pat pant.
18. Temper.
19. She is a-Miss.
20. The one is razed to the ground, the
other is raised from the ground.
21. There was no Eve.
22. To the only sun of the earth.
23. They thought it a good opening for a
young man.
24. It is in (visible).
25. He is in Luck now.
26 It is un oeuf (enough).
27. One is a cupper, the other a saucerer
(sorcerer)..
28. To-morrow.
29. Lent-i-form.
30. Hand-el.
ANSWERS RECEIVED FROM :
Maude A. S. H. Wolverine Oliver On-
ley Sallie E. R. F. C. F. W. Eureka
Lizzie M. S. Georgiana The Squir-
rel-catcher i Oscar B. J. M.
2000
Richmond Adelbert Older Dick W. C.
Clio Geo. B. Higbee Moss Rose I.
L. C. W. M. K J. T. C. Minnie M.
Wm. M. Bess. J. J. Symmes Adrian
_Susy_C. W. Lot X. T. S. Pop
R. L. C. W. H. S. Lone Star* J.
Oberholtzer T. S. L. Don. 17.
Questions, Enigmas, Charades, etc.
46. Why, when you count the masts of a
ship, do you always count wrong ?
D. B. O.
47. What city is the most dissipated in
the world, and why ? Black-Eyes.
48. What is the difference between the
labor of a seamstress and that of a
farmer ? Geo. B. H.
49. Who 4 noses F. 8 ? Oliver Onley.
50. Why should a sailor always know
what o'clock it is ? Geo. B. H.
51. What is the value of a physician ?
Ji'Jelbert Older.
52. ANAGRAMS.
1. A mere pond. 2. Forget pails.
3. Cold air. 4. A free port. 5. A
great mist. 6. Tin can covers.
A. Older.
53. Why is E the laziest letter ?
Jersey Boy.
54. Why is E the most spirited letter ?
JYew York Boy.
55. Why is love like a candle ? Pansy.
56. Why does a duck put his head under
water ? Pansy
57. Why does he lift it up ? Pansy
58. Why is a without apple like an old
maid? ????
59. Why can not the letter V be divided ?
Jerxey Boy.
60. Five hundred and one, and four and
five,
Combined in order aright,
Make an epithet used to express
Anything glowing or bright.
Buckeye Boy.
61. To-day I am seen as a busy machine,
And I toil for man like a slave ;
But, readers, beware ! I as oft am a
snare,
A rogue, and an arrant knave.
To man I'm a bane for I've thou-
sands slain,
Who sleep in a drunkard's grave.
Buckeye Boy.
MAY-DAT.
129
MAY-DAY.
TT is May-day May-day ! wake up
^ lift up, little curly heads blossoms
must be hunted up and out from the
cosy leaf-coverings to-day.
Carrie's arm is thrown under her
head, which shows that she is taking
her last nap for this morning. Lovely
children are these; they are named
Carrie and Lettie. Of course, they are
good and loving children. How Lettie
has tucked her cheek up to her sister,
for she feels that Carrie knows almost
as much as her mother so younger
children always feel to their kind
brothers and sisters who are ever so
little older than themselves. Carrie's
NEW SERIES. VOL. V. NO. 9
advice and opinion are all in all to
Lettie.
But hop out of that nice bed,
now, darlings; dip your faces in
the fresh water, brush out those
ringlets; let Biddy fasten the
tiny gaiters and the span clean
aprons, for there is much to be
done to-day and do not forget
to thank your heavenly Father
for all his kind care of you; and
for giving you the pleasant sea-
sons of the year. All His good-
ness surrounds you, as the flowers
surround the picture.
Young readers of the MUSEUM,
if we get some sharp days in May,
yet spring is really advancing
the sap is shooting all through
the trunks of the millions of trees,
and through their millions and
millions of stems, all at the same
time ; the buds put out their lit-
tle points so curious and so won-
derful this month, showing the
green color. Some come all fold-
ed in what seems like a blanket of
wool, as the horse-chestnut; and
when this opens by the working
of the sap within, you may see the
chocolate-colored buds as bright as if
they were varnished, and these again
burst before we get the leaf, which at
first appears like a half-folded fan.
Very likely you are all delighted
with flowers, and so am I ; but I want
to have you not slight the curious
leaves pray examine the different
kinds of leaves upon the forest trees
and- the forest plants, and you will be
sure to exclaim, "These are more curi-
ous and beautiful than I ever before
imagined." In this way, too, you will
learn to distinguish the trees, and
know their names. Look at the
bright, smooth, pointed leaves of the
hiekory ; the scolloped leaf of the oak,
130
THE CROCUS S SOLILOQUY.
O, so pretty; the fan-shaped maple,
and the long notched leaves of the
chestnut in the woods, and its flowers
also. You may have thought them
not worth looking at as flowers, for
they are not gay in color, as your
pinks and coreopsis; they are but a
pale green with a little yellow ; yet
there could be nothing more graceful
and delicate; they hang like clusters of
plumes waving and fragrant.
Carrie and Lettie had their little
baskets in readiness last night for the
blue violets and the pure white " blood
root." Now and then a " winter-
green" berry, so red and bright, they
will find as they turn over the dry
leaves. There will be some moss as
fresh as midsummer and the brook
dances along, making everything fresh
on its banks.
Carrie loves to listen to it as it
tinkles, ajid tells Lettie it is music
and then a blue-bird and a robin hop
among the branches overhead and put
in their music. The children are as
happy as the birds ; and Carrie, as be-
ing so much older (she is about twelve,
and Lettie is seven), tells Lettie all
these beautiful things, and this nice
world, are all by the goodness of God,
and that he gave them their dear
father and mother, and Aunt Susy.
Carrie is not at all proud^ though she
thinks she knows a great deal; but
she will find as she grows older, that
she knows but very little of all which
may be known. These little girls
trudge homeward now, and Tom, the
gardener, calls them, for he promised
to let them drop some garden seeds
for him ; and he tells them it is God
who will make them grow by the sun-
shine and the rain. How wonderful !
Then he transplants some rose bushes
and pink roots, etc., into the patch of
ground which is given to the children
for their own. Then he brings the
flower seeds, and they watch where
every mignonette seed rolls and scat-
ters. And then they wonder to see
him put the sweet-pea so much deeper
in the ground than the ice-plant, with
its seeds not much larger than the dot
of an i, on which he only sprinkles
the earth ; for if they are covered
over with much earth they will never
grow.
The children promise to look after
their seeds every day, and see the
changes so wonderful as they get up to
plants, and buds, and blossoms, and
seeds again. Full of happiness is this
May-day to them. Hoping it may be
the same to all the dear children who
may read this, I am your friend,
LAURA ELMEE.
THE CROCUS'S SOLILOQUY.
BY MISS H. F. GOUT,D.
DOWN in my solitude under the snow
Where nothing cheering can reach me;
Here, without light to see how to grow,
I trust to nature to teach me.
I'll not despair, nor be idle, nor frown,
Locked In so gloomy a dwelling ;
My leaves shall run up, and my roots shall run
down,
While the bud in my bosom is swelling.
Soon as the frost will get out of my bed,
From this cold dungeon to free me,
I will peer up with my little bright head ;
All will be joyful to see me.
Then from my heart will young petals diverge
As rays of the sun from their focus ;
I from the darkness of earth will emerge
A happy and beautiful Crocus !
Gayly arrayed in my yellow and green,
When to their view I have risen,
Will they not wonder how one serene
Came from so dismal a prison ?
Many, perhaps, from so simple a flower
This little lesson may borrow
Patient to-day, through its gloomiest hours,
We come out the brighter to-morrow i
ANE of the most interesting charac-
" ters furnished by the aboriginal
history of our country, is that of Lo-
gan, the chieftain and the orator of
the Iroquois. His name is equally an
honor to the red race, from which he
sprung, and a reproach to the white
race, that made his life desolate and
his death inglorious.
His birthplace was Was-Jcough, now
called Osco, on the outlet of the lake,
about two and a half miles north of
the city of Auburn. His Indian name
was Tah-gah-jute. His father was
Shikellimus, a distinguished Sachem
of the Cayugas. About 1720, he re-
moved, with a considerable portion of
the Cayuga tribe, to the region of
Shamohin (Northumberland County),
Pennsylvania, on account of the scar-
city of fish and game in their old
haunts. Tah-gah-jute was then about
seven years old. Shikellimus became
the friend of the whites, and a Chris-
tian, and was received, with his fam-
ily, into the Christian church. At
132
I MAKK ONLY THE HOURS THAT 8HINE.
his baptism, Tah-gah-jute received the
name of Logan, in honor of James
Logan, secretary of the Province.
Logan inherited the talents and
peaceful virtues of his father, after
whose death he became a chieftain.
He was a zealous partisan of the En-
glish, and had often distinguished
himself in their service. He was
taken prisoner, and brought before
the General Assembly of Virginia,
who hesitated whether he should be
tried by court-martial as a soldier, or
at the criminal bar for high treason.
Logan inteiTupted their deliberations,
and stated to the assembly, that they
had no jurisdiction to try him ; " that
he owed no allegiance to the King of
England, being an Indian chief, inde-
pendent of every nation." In answer
to their inquiries, as to his motives
for taking up arms against the English,
he thus addressed the assembly :
" l! appeal to any white man to say,
if ever he entered Logan's cabin hun-
gry, and I gave him not meat ? if ever
be came cold or naked, and I gave
him not clothing? During the last
long and bloody war, Logan remained
idle in his tent, an advocate for peace ;
nay, such was my love for the whites,
that those of my own country pointed
at me, as they passed by, and said, Lo-
gan is the friend of white men. I had
ever thought to live with you, but for
the injuries of one man. Colonel
Oressap, the last spring, in cold blood
and unprovoked, cut off all the rela-
tions of Logan, not sparing even my
women and children. There runs not
a drop of my blood in the veins of any
human creature. This called on me
for revenge. I have sought it. I have
killed many. I have fully glutted my
vengeance. For my country, I rejoice
at the beams of peace. But do not
harbor the thought that mine is the
joy of fear. Logan never felt fear.
He will not turn his heel to save his
life. Who is there to mourn for Lo-
gan ? Not one."
This pathetic and affecting speech
touched the sensibility of all who
heard him. The General Assembly
applauded his noble sentiments, and
immediately set him at liberty. Every
house in Virginia vied with each other
which should entertain him the best,
or show him the most respect; and he
returned to his native country, loaded
with presents and honors.
The citizens of Auburn, in laying
out their beautiful rural cemetery on
the site of the old Indian fortifica-
tions, reserved the most sacred spot
the sacrificial mound for a stately
monument to the memory of Logan.
It bears the simple and touching in-
scription more eloquent than a la-
bored epitaph
" Who is there to mourn for Logan ?"
"I MAKK ONLY THE HOURS
THAT SHINE."
THE above, if we rightly remember,
is the inscription upon a sun-dial in
Italy. It inculcates a beautiful lesson,
which we may be prone to disregard.
It would teach us to remember the
bright days of life, and not forget the
blessings God has given us. Life, it
is true, is not all bright and beautiful.
But still, it has its lights as well as its
shades, and it is neither wise nor
grateful to dwell too much upon the
darker portion of the picture. He
who looks upon the bright side of life,
and makes the best of everything,
will, we think, other things being
equal, be a better and happier man
than he who finds occasion for com-
plaint in everything.
MAY.
133
"Well, then," says
Hal, "we'll make
you
A civic feast or
fair,
And you shall be the
MAY-DAY.
MAY.
" COME out ! come out ! " cried Harry
" Sweet Sis, and cousin May ;
Come out I this bright May morning
Is ours, for work or play."
" I'll come, kind Hal," May answered ;
" If I may have my way,
Work, rest, or play, as suits me
May I?" Says Hal, " You may."
" And I," says sister ifa-ry,
" Must also have my say,
"Work, play, or rest at pleasure
May I ?" Says Hal, " You may."
" And I," says little Georgie,
" May I bring Rover and Tray ?"
" And I, may I?" says Bella
" Yes, yes," cries Hal ; " you may."
" To the garden, May, to the garden,"
Cries Hal ; " if you would reign ;
We will have a coronation,
you May-queen."
"O pshaw! cousin Hal," May answers,
" You fill me with dis-may ;
No common born plebeian
May jest with ma-jest-y."
And I will be the
may-or."
"Oh, Hal! your mays
amaze me.
Why may not Ma-
ry, Sis,
As ma-ny mai-dens
may do,
Be ma-de the may-
or-ess ?"
" In May, your cousin Anne shows
Amazing anne-mation ;
And sure I am, Miss Esther Rose
Rose in your esti-mation."
"You may not make your cousin
May
May-queen, or may-or's bride ,
May is, you know, to have her way,
So give May now a ride."
" Well, jump into my wheelbarrow
Fit chariot for May-queen
Since, though you may not call it
'sheeny,'
You may a good ma-chine."
" Were I now a ma-gician,
I'd move this car with you ;
For, to move ma-hog-any tables,
Is what any hog may do."
" Oh, Hal, you're quite ma-lignant,
Jbfa-levolent, ma-licious ;
All ma-sons are not ma-niacs
All mediums are not vicious."
" Hold, hold, sweet May ! you may not
Upon my words refine ;
Nor, though you're a true May-liner,
Your cousin thus ma-lign." IKK.
134
AFRICA AND ITS WONDEKS.
AFRICA AND ITS WONDERS.
HE admirable work
on South Africa, by
Dr. Livingston,
which we noticed in
our number for March, gives
many very interesting de-
scriptions of its scenery, and
of the customs of the people.
Speaking of the River Zouga, which
flows into Lake Ngarni, he takes oc-
casion to explain the mode of trap-
ping the deer, and other animals. " The
banks are very beautiful, resembling
closely many parts of the River Clyde,
above Glasgow. The formation is soft
calcareous tufa, such as forms the bot-
tom of all this basin. The banks are
perpendicular on the side to which the
water swings, and sloping and grassy
on the other. The slopes are selected
for the pitfalls, designed by the Bayeiye
to entrap the animals as they come to
drink. These are about seven or eight
feet deep, three or four feet wide at the
mouth, and gradually decrease till they
are only a foot wide at the bottom.
" The mouth is an oblong square (the
only square thing made by the Bech-
uanas, for everything else is round),
and the length at the surface is about
equal to its depth. The decreasing
width toward the bottom is intended
to make the animal wedge himself
more firmly in, by his weight and his
struggles. The pitfalls are usually in
pairs, with a wall a foot thick, left
uncut between the ends of each, so
that, if the beast, when it feels its
fore-legs descending, should try to save
itself from going in altogether, by
striding the hind-legs, he would spring
forward, and leap into the second with
a force which insures the fall of Ms
whole body into the trap. They are
covered with care. AJ1 the excavated
earth is removed so as not to excite
suspicion in the animals. Reeds and
grass are laid over the top. Above
this, sand is thrown, and watered, so
as to appear exactly like the rest of
the spot. If an ox sees a hole, he
carefully avoids it ; and old elephants
have been known to precede the herd,
and whisk off the coverings of the pit-
falls on each side, down to the water.
We have known instances in which
the old, among the sagacious animals,
have actually lifted the young out of
the trap.
"The trees which adorn the banks of
the Zouga, are magnificent. Two
enormous baobabs, or neowanas, grow
near its confluence with the lake. The
largest was 76 feet in girth. The
Palmyra appears here and there among
trees not met with in the south. The
Moshowa would be a fine specimen of
arboreal beauty in any part of the
world. The trunk is often converted
into canoes.
" We discovered an entirely new
species of antelope, called leche or
lechwi. It is a beautiful water ante-
lope, of a light brownish yellow color.
Its horns, exactly like those of the
water-buck of the Bechuanas, rise
from the head, with a slight bend
backward, and then come forward at
136
AFRICA AND, ITS WONDERS.
the points. The chest, belly and orbits
are nearly white, the front of the legs
and ankle a deep brown. From the
horns, along the nape, to the withers,
the male has a small mane of the same
A LADY OF LONDA, SOUTH AFKIOA.
yellowish color with the rest of the
skin, and the tail has a tuft of black
hair. It is never found a mile from
water. Islets and marshes are its
favorite haunts, and it is quite un-
known, except in the central humid
basin of Africa.
"Having a good deal of curiosity, it
presents a noble appearance, as it
stands gazing, with head erect, at the
approaching stranger. When it re-
solves to decamp, it lowers its head,
and lays its horns down to a level with
the withers. It then begins with a
waddling trot, which ends in its galop-
ing and springing over bushes, like the
pallahs. It invariably runs to the
water, and crosses it by a succession
of bounds, each of which appears to be
from the bottom."
We can not leave this book without
telling our young folks something about
its author, which we hope will be use-
ful to many of them. At the age of
ten he was put into the factory as a
"piecer," to aid his mother by
his little earnings. With a part
of his first weetts wages he
purchased the "Rudiments of
Latin" and so commenced to
educate himself. He pursued
the study of that language for
many years afterward, with un-
abated ardor, at an evening
school, which met between the
hours of eight and ten. The
dictionary part of his labor was
followed up till 12 o'clock, or
later, if his mother did not in-
terfere. He had to be in the
factory from six in the morning
till eight at night, with short in-
tervals for breakfast and dinner.
He read everything he could lay
his hand on, except novels.
Thus commenced a work that
made an LL.D. of a factory boy,
a missionary and an explorer of a poor,
obscure laborer in one of the small
villages of Scotland. And thus have
the ablest and most useful men often
fought their way up through discour-
agements and difficulties to the highest
success. Let all the young Merrys
learn, from such examples, to " attempt
great things." " Where there is a
will, there is a way," even when the
will is perverse, and the way wrong.
But, when the will is right, and the
way safe and good, the promise of
God is pledged to sustain and guide
your efforts.
This work we regard as one of the
best of Harper's recent publications.
We hope it will find its way into all
the family, school, and parish libraries
of the land.
WHAT THE BOYS THINK.
137
WHAT THE BOYS THINK OF WHAT MR. BEECHER SAYS ABOUT
THE BOYS.
Beecher says
about boys?"
) "Yes! that I have!
"We gave him three
times three about it.
Didn't he take up the
cudgel finely."
"Three times three! indeed; we
gave him nine times nine ! and Walton
says he has a more just appreciation of
boys than anybody in the world, ex-
cepting mother, and you know every
one calls her ' boy -protector, '" said
Frederick.
" Yes ! and all the boys like her, big
and little."
"That's because she likes boys as
well as she does girls ; and other ladies
don't, you know. They always invite
the girls to the weddings and parties."
" Yes, and when anybody writes to
mother, to make them a visit in the
country, they always say, 'Bring one
or two of the girls with you.' The
boys are welcome to stay away !"
"I know it, Will; the ladies say
boys are so rude ; and I think they're
rude only because they know the ladies
dislike them, and they think that's un-
just."
"So it is, Fred; boys are never
rude to your mother. They couldn't
be. She always speaks so kindly to
them, and appears to have respect for
them, and for what they like."
" So she has ! We always expect
her to take a share in all we do. We
talk to her about our books, and tell
her all our fun, and all our troubles,
too, and she thinks as much about
them, as if we were grown up, and
don't call them trifles!"
"I know it; I like better to be at
your house than anywhere else."
" Mother often invites boys to stay
there, and they always make friends
with her. They're all kind to her, and
try to please her."
" To be sure they do ; they couldn't
help it, if they tried."
" She says boys are a much-abused
race, and that they have rights that
ought to be respected."
" So they ought ! and it is too bad
to be treated as all those little fellows
were the other night. They went a
whole hour too early, and sat waiting
in that hot room, so as to get a front
seat where they could see Mr. Curtis,
and hear him well. Some ladies and
gentlemen carne too late, after he had
begun to lecture, and the boys were
turned out of their seats, and placed
where they could not see him at all."
" Mother saw it. She said she
would not have taken the seat, and
spoiled the pleasure of the little fel-
lows; or, if one had willingly given
her his seat, she would have held him
on her lap. But hasn't Mr. Beecher a
good notion of what boys like ? He
doesn't forget he was a boy once."
138
LOVE ONE ANOTHEK.
"Little Frank said he would have
rummaged out the ball of strings, and
I guess he would, too, from the lots of
strings he always has in his pocket."
"Our little James said it was very
shabby to have a whole ball, and give
a fellow only a little piece ; but Mary
told him it was not shabby, any more
than it was to have a whole barrel of
flour on hand, when you wanted to
bake only one batch of bread at a
time."
"That was right wasn't it?
Now, Louis, you haven't said a word.
What do you think about it, you and
all the rest of you?"
" I think I'd like a little more than
he's allowed us."
" More string, Louis."
" Nonsense ; I think we'll get tired
of all those things after awhile, and
like to know something about all we
see when we go in the country."
"I'd like to ride on horseback,"
said Alfred.
" Or to have a little donkey," added
James.
"I'd rather have a gentle little
lamb," said Susan.
" Oh, yes! those are all very nice for
whoever likes them," said Arthur;
"but let us hear what the things are
which you would like to know about,
Louis!"
" I should like to know a great deal
more than I do about the trees, for
one thing. They all look different.
I think there seems to be as much va-
riety among trees, as there is among
people ; and I should like very much
to feel as if I was acquainted with
them, when I met them."
" So should I, Louis," said Annie.
"I do love the trees. I have often
felt as if they were dear friends."
"Oh, Annie, how strange !" replied
James.
"I don't think it is so strange," said
Alfred. " I know I've often felt just
so about the clouds. I never saw them
look exactly alike twice ; and then
how beautiful HIQJ make the hills and
fields The fields look a little sad
when ti.^ cloud.* are over them, and
when they roll away, it is just as if a
smile came over them."
" So it is, Alf," said Will. "But best
of all, I should like to know all about
the rocks. I wish I knew what the
different stones I see are, and if they
have any fossils in them, or any min-
erals."
" Oh, yes ! how I should like to find
some," said Susan.
" I wish Mr. Beecher would tell us
about them," said James.
"He hasn't time," said Morton;
" but I think my Uncle Charles could
do it ; and I'll ask him, and tell you,
next time we meet. He loves Nature
and boys, too, as much as Mr. Beecher
does, and he has plenty of leisure."
L. F. V.
LOVE ONE ANOTHER.
CHILDREN, do you love each other ?
Are you always kind and true?
Do you always do to others
As you'd have them do to you ?
Are you gentle to each other?
Are you careful day by day,
Not to give offense by actions,
Or by anything you say ?
Little children, love each other,
Never give another pain ;
If your brother speak in anger,
Answer not in wrath again.
Be not selfish to each other ;
Never spoil another's rest ;
Strive to make each other happy,
And you will yourselves be blest.
SOMETHING ABOUT CHINA.
139
SOMETHING ABOUT CHINA.
HE Chinese
are a singular
people. They
are industri-
ous and inge-
nious. They
have made
very consid-
erable ad-
vances in the
arts and sciences, in some of which
they have shown ingenuity and skill
far beyond that of Europe. If they
had been willing, since the opening of
European commerce, to learn from
"outside barbarians," they might have
added largely to their stock of knowl-
edge, and so have kept up in the race
of improvement. Their self-conceit
and jealousy of foreign ideas have
been as effectual a barrier against the
invasion of a higher civilization from
the south and east, as the Great "Wall
has been against the irruption of bar-
barism from the north. They are ex-
ceedingly ingenious and nice in small
matters of fancy, and will spend years
of patient industry over some trinket
or gew-gaw, whose only merit will be
to excite the wonder and admiration of
the curious. But they have no fancy
for labor-saving machinery or useful
inventions. Even their agricultural
implements are of a truly patriarchal
simplicity. The plow, the hoe, and
the harrow, all of the rudest con-
struction, are almost the only instru-
ments used. The spade is seldom
seen. The plow is usually drawn by
buffaloes, but often by men and even
women. In a country so over-peopled
as China, it is not strange that they do
not desire our machines for saving
labor, manual labor being very abun-
dant and cheap, and many millions de-
pending upon it for subsistence.
Not only are men employed to draw
the plow and the harrow, but as car-
riage horses, to convey the magis-
trates and the nobles from place to
place. The mandarins, who are a sort
of inferior magistrates, are not allowed
to walk in public. It is strictly for-
bidden as inconsistent with their offi-
A M AND AKIN, WITH HIS KETINUE.
140
SOMETHING ABOUT CHINA.
cial dignity. They never go out, ex-
cept in a sedan chair, with a proper
retinue of attendants. They are also
The male children are very early
taught to swim; and until they can
manage themselves in the water, they
FLOATING HOUSES, WITH SHOPS.
prohibited from participation in the
common amusements of the people, as
unfitting them for the more serious
duties of their station. They are not
permitted to entertain their friends
with theatrical representations except
at stated periods. Gaming, private
visits, and assisting in public meetings
are all prohibited to them, while they
remain in office. They indulge in no
amusements, except such as they can
enjoy in the privacy of home. Such
is the law, but, as in other lands, the
law is often evaded. The mandarins
of all ranks are elected for three years
only, and then are appointed by the
government to some other place.
Vast numbers of the Chinese live in
boats or floating houses, having no
houses on the land. The water popu-
lation of Canton is estimated at two
hundred thousand. The men go on
shore in the daytime, and get what
work they can ; the women, in the
mean time earning a little money by
carrying passengers in their floating
houses, which they manage with great
dexterity.
always wear a calabash suspended
round then- neck, to buoy them up, in
case they should fall overboard.
The boats on the canals, as well as
on many of the rivers, are drawn by
men, and not, as with us, by horses.
The drawing of the government barges
is a sort of tax on the people, who are
pressed into the service by order of
the magistrates. Every district is
obliged to furnish a certain number
of men for the purpose. Even the
wealthiest farmers are not exempt.
They must either do the work them-
selves or find substitutes, and pay
them. It is a cruel system, and pro-
ductive of much misery, and the men
often desert during the night. The
officers are then obliged to send to the
nearest village, surprise the men in
their beds, and drive them off to the
yachts. If they attempt to escape, or
plead old age or infirmity, as an ex-
cuse, they are whipped in, and com-
pelled to work, till their keepers are
caught napping, when they are sure to
run away, to be caught again by the
next yacht that comes along.
8PKI&G BIRDS.
141
SPRING BIRDS.
AMONG the delights
of spring (says
Hawthorne) how is it
possible to forget the
birds? Even the crows
were welcome as the sa-
ble harbingers of a much
brighter and livelier
race. They visited us
before the snow was oft*
but seem mostly to have
betaken to themselves
remote depths of the
wood, which they haunt
all summer long. Many
a time shall I disturb
them there, and I feel as
if I had intruded among a company of
silent worshipers, as they sit in Sab-
bath stillness among the tree-tops.
Their voices, when they speak, are in
admirable accordance with the tran-
quil solitude of a summer afternoon;
and resounding so far above the head,
their loud clamor increases the relig-
THE CEOW.
ious quiet of the scene, instead of
breaking it. A crow, however, has
no real pretensions to religion ; in
spite of his gravity of mien and black
attire, he is certainly a thief, and pro-
bably an infidel.
The gulls are far more respectable
in a moral point of view. These deni-
zens of sea-beaten rocks, and haunters
of the lonely beach, come up our in-
land river at this season, and soar high
overhead, flapping their broad wings in
the upper sunshine. They are among
the most picturesque of birds, because
they so float and rest upon the air as to
become almost^sta-
tionary parts of the
landscape. The im-
agination has time
to grow acquainted
with them they
have not flitted
away in a moment.
Ducks have their haunts along the
solitary places of the river, and alight
in flocks upon the broad bosom of the
overflowed meadows. Their flight is
142
SPRING BIRDS.
THE HOBIN REDBREAST.
too rapid for the eye to catch enjoy-
ment from it.
The smaller birds the little song-
sters of the woods, and those that
haunt man's dwelling, and claim hu-
man friendship by building their nests
under the sheltering eaves, or among
the orchard trees the outburst of
their melody is like a brook let loose
from wintry
chains. Their
music just now
(spring) seems
to be incident-
al, and not the
result of a set
purpose. They
are discussing the economy of life and
love, and the site and architecture
of their summer residences, and have
no time to sit on a twig and pour
forth solemn hymns or overtures,
operas, symphonies, and waltzes^ Anx-
ious questions are asked, grave sub-
jects are settled in quick and animated
debate, and only by occasional ac-
cident, as from
pure ecstasy, does
a rich warble roll
its tiny waves of
golden sound
through the at-
mosphere. The
blackbirds are the
noisiest of all our
feathered citi-
zens. Politics cer-
tainly must be the
occasion of such
tumultuous de-
bates ; but, unlike
all other politi-
cians, they instill
melody into their
individual utter-
ances, and pro-
duce nannony as a general effect.
Of all bird voices, none are more
sweet and cheerful than those of the
swallows,
in the dim,
sun-streak-
ed interior
of a lofty
barn.
Insects
are among
the earliest births of spring. A mus-
quito has already been heard to sound
the small honor of his bugle-horn.
Wasps infest the sunny windows of
the house. A
bee entered one
of the rooms
with a prophecy
of flowers. Eare
butterflies came
before the snow
was ofij looking
all forlorn and all astray, in spite of
the magnificence of their dark velvet
cloaks with golden borders.
HISTORY OF A GOLD DOLLAR.
143
HISTORY OF A GOLD DOLLAR,
(Continued from page 184.)
;T seemed a long time
1 before we arrived at
New York. Old Un-
cle Sam was so fee-
and debilitated, that we
were obliged to make many
resting-places. After our
arrival, however, there was no delay
in conveying us to 116 Nassau Street.
"Ah!" said my new friend, as we
were admitted into his presence
"here is something to pay that print-
er's bill."
I felt sad to learn that there was a
prospect of my being taken away, for
it seemed just the place for me, it was
so very quiet and orderly.
So, when he opened my letter of in-
troduction, I unceremoniously jumped
into a " big basket," which stood near
by, and hid myself among the multi-
tude of papers which it contained.
There was no small stir made in
search of me, but all to no purpose ;
and I lay in peace, and amused myself
with the letters and manuscripts which
surrounded me, and by observing what
was going on in the room, I was for-
tunate enough to be a witness of the
ceremony which united the hearts and
thoughts of MERRY'S MUSEUM and
YOUTH'S CABINET. And I make bold
to say, that so handsome and intelli-
gent a couple are rarely to be found.
I often listened to the greetings of
friends, and felt that much of joy still
lived in the breast of mortals. I felt
a joy that kind fortune had placed me
in so desirable a situation. But how
true it is that disappointment lurks in
every path !
One day orders were given to clear
the big basket ; and then such a
careful examining of papers I never
saw before. My face being hid, all
seemed safe for me. But upon hear-
ing a shout of joy, and an exclama-
tion, "Here is the lost dollar!" I was
brought from my hiding-place, and
immured in a prison, where were
others similarly confined. But soon
one and another of my companions
were taken away, and I never saw
them more.
It was not long before my time
came, and I was placed in the hands
of a merchant, who passed me alons;
to a poor woman for making six shirts.
She smiled on me for a moment, but ;t
look of sadness followed that smile,
and I knew that she could not let me
stay with her. She went immediately
to her landlord, introduced me, and,
sure enough, I was soon clutched in
his hard fist. I did not like my new
situation very well, often hearing
harsh language, violent threats, and
sometimes feeling the force of arms,
yea, and rough hands, which made me
fear for my life.
One day a workm?^ called, after
finishing a piece of work, and I was
reluctantly passed over to him. On
his way home, he stopped at the cor-
ner grocery for some sugar, and just as
he was handing me to the clerk, I
THE SONG OF THE EXILE.
slipped from his hand, and fell into a
deep crevice in the floor. All search
for me was in vain, and here I still re-
main. The dust is fast gathering over
me, and my fears are that this will be
my end.
Far be it from me to exalt myself,
but really it seems to me, that I, who
can do so many and such great wonders,
deserve a better fate. Why, I was at
the start of all the improvements of
the nation, such as canals, steam-
boats, railroads. And who but me
would have put the telegraph in opera-
tion ? Then, see my power over man-
kind ! I can send men to the North
Pole, to the East Indies, to Golconda,
to Brazil, California, and Australia.
You may take the veriest dunce in
creation, and let me show off my
powers on him, and men will rever-
ence him as a Socrates, or a Solo-
mon. I make ministers, lawyers, doc-
tors, mechanics, farmers. And who
but I seats the President in the White
House, and collects the Legislative
and Congressional bodies together?
We should not have had this great
distress of hard times had not people
underrated me, and placed so much
value on paper dollars. For I can re-
lieve the distress of the poor, and
brighten the heavy eye; can "drive
dull care away." Aye! and some-
times I make care for the avaricious.
But it is all over with me now.
The clear sunlight beams not upon
me, and the soft, balmy air from Na-
ture's pure fountains fans me no more.
Yours, if you can get me,
GOLD DOLLAR.
A CHINESE proverb says a lie has
no legs, and can not stand ; but it has
wings, and can fly far and wide.
THE SONG OF THE EXILE.
BLOW, blow, ye winds, from the wide
blue sea !
Oh, cool the heat of this fevered
brow,
And still this heart with such melody
As your fluttering wings are waft-
ing now !
Bear on, bear on, from that distant
shore,
The loving tones of a household
band,
Whose cherished forms I see no more,
Ye voices dim from my fatherland !
Such sad, sweet thoughts to me ye
bring
Of my own far home with its ivied
walls,
Of the vine- wreathed poreh, where the
zephyr sings,
Through the rustling leaves, and the
sunbeam falls.
Of the threshhold stone, and the open
door,
Of the kindred forms that gathered
there,
At the stilly eve full hearts to pour,
In a gush of song on the listening
air.
Of the noisy flow of the little brook,
Whose mossy banks our footsteps
haunted ;
Of winds which half their sweetness
took
From fragrant bowers our hands had
planted.
Then blow, ye winds, from the wide,
wide sea !
Oh, cool the heat of this fevered
brow,
And still this heart with such melody
As your fluttering wings are wafting
now!
FLETA FOBBESTEB.
UNCLE HIKAM'S PILGRIMAGE.
145
UNCLE HIRAM'S PILGRIMAGE.
,WING to
the confu-
7 sion of the
monkey-chase
and the up-
roar and fun it
occasioned, my
friend and I be-
came parted, and
as the quaint old
1 Bunyan says, I
addressed myself to my way.
Frank. What answer did you get,
sir?
Oh ! a very amusing one ; at the
same time, it was not agreeable. The
crowd which had gathered to see the
fun, or to learn what it was, attracted
some of the New York highwaymen,
the professed pick-pockets, who have
acquired such adroitness in their craft,
that they can take the watch out of a
man's pocket, or the diamond-ring
from his linger, without his knowing
it. One of these commenced opera-
tions on a lady, who was uncomfort-
ably squeezed in among the mass near
me, and succeeded in getting her gold
watch and chain, while she was most
anxious about her laces and flowers.
A policeman happened to be so near
as to see the act, seized the robber,
while his hand was yet in the lady's
pocket, searching for her purse. The
scamp immediately dropped the watch
into my bosom, and cried, "Hands
off! What are you about?" with
sundry other angry exclamations, as if
he felt himself grossly insulted, to be
touched by a policeman. The officer
kept his hold, however, while the thief
NEW SERIES. VOL. V. 10
continued to bluster and to protest
his innocence. When asked for the
watch, he knew nothing of it, and
when I produced it, he turned on me
like a savage, and said, " There's the
thief! let me alone!" The officer
knew better, and calling some of his
comrades, took him off to the Tombs,
while I went on my way unmolested.
Jesse. Did not this incident detain
you a long time ?
Not more than five minutes ; then
the tide flowed on as quietly as before.
A robbery, or a murder, in Broad-
way, is scarcely noticed, more than
the dropping of a pebble into a stream,
which makes a few ripples, and soon
disappears.
Being a little fatigued with my ad-
venture, I crossed over to the Park,
and took a seat on one of the chains,
by which the various grass sections
are protected from intrusion. Here I
had a fine view of the confluence of
the two great thoroughfares of New
York, Broadway and the Bowery,
which last has an outlet here, through
Chatham Street and Park Row. On
the next page is a very good represen-
tation of the scene, as it now appearfc,
so far as the buildings are concerned.
Tne artist has contrived to clear away
a considerable number of trees from
the lower end of the Park, and an im-
mense number of carriages and foot
passengers from the streets. I never
saw those streets so deserted. Per-
haps he took the likenesses of those
only who were willing to pay for be-
ing made so conspicuous. Or, possi-
bly, the handsome people stood still,
146
UNCLE HIRAM 8 PILGRIMAGE.
to be taken, while the rest ran away.
On the right, you see a part of the
Astor House. Next to that is St.
Paul's Church, the steeple, which
seems to be at the wrong end, lifting
its slender spire above the hotel. The
building in the center, which cuts off
the train of wagons and carriages go-
ing down Broadway, is " The Ameri-
can Museum," where we made such a
pleasant visit a short time since, and
where we saw such a variety of rare
and interesting curiosities.
Frank. What are all those flags for,
Uncle?
A mere fancy of the manager, to
attract attention, making the Museum
more conspicuous, as far as it can be
seen.
On the left is "Park Row." Park
Theatre once occupied a conspicuous
place there; but has given place to
stores and warehouses, for a more use-
ful, if not a more profitable, kind of
business. If the gentleman and lady
.standing under the tree, by the gate,
should turn to the left, and look
straight through one of those buildings
on Park Row, and through another,
separated from it by a very narrow
alley, they might see right into our
sanctum, at 116 Nassau Street, and
(if they have very good eyes, or a
magic pair of spectacles) read what
we are now writing about them.
Elsie. Oh, Uncle, would'nt that be
funny ? But is your office so near the
Great Museum ?
You mean to ask, perhaps, if the
American Museum is so near the Great
Museum ? Yes, close under our wing,
which accounts for its great prosperity.
Frank. Pray, Uncle, are those balls
you spoke of, at a former meeting,
which came from the site of ancient
Troy, on these gate-posts at this end
of the Park? If so, they look much
smaller than you represented them.
They are not there now, Frank.
The old gates have been replaced with
new and lighter ones, for which the
Troy balls would be quite too large.
I do not know where they are at the
present time.
There are rail-tracks on Park Row,
extending through Chatham Street and
UNCLE HIRAM'S PILGRIMAGE.
147
the Bowery, up the east side of the
city, and connecting with the Harlem
and New Haven Railroads. One of
the cars is just on the start, as you
see. If you want a ride, you must
jump in quickly, or it will he off.
But, as they go every three minutes,
you can, if you please, wait till we
finish our talk.
Elsie. Dear Uncle, I thought there
was a fountain at this end of the Park.
I do not see anything of it in this pic-
ture.
There is a fountain, or rather a ba-
sin, near this end of the Park, not em-
braced in this view. When it was
first built, there was a constant display
of its brilliant and beautiful jets, at-
tracting large numbers of people, to
pause as they passed, and keeping
always fresh and green the trees,
shrubs, and flowers on every side.
But there is seldom any water in.it
now, the city fathers preferring to
waste it in some other way. The
flowers are all dead, the evergreens
withered and brown, and even the
grass gray, thirsty, and stinted, as if a
blight had fallen on the place. This
Park has nothing about it that is in-
viting or tasteful as a Park. But any-
thing green, in the midst of so much
brick and marble, is refreshing. As
an open space, for the better circula-
tion of air, it is of great value. Parks
are sometimes called the lungs of a
city. But if your lungs, or mine,
were as uniformly choked with dust as
the City Hall Park is, we should never
breathe without coughing.
While I was sitting on the chain,
amusing myself with the ever-shifting
scene before me, an alarm of fire was
sounded from the great bell on the
City Hall. One, two, three, four, the
deep, solemn tones rang out ; and
again, one, two, three, four, and so at
intervals of a minute or two, for some
time. Scarcely had the alarm been
repeated twice, before the rumbling
of engines and the shouts of the noisy
firemen were heard. From different
directions, they rushed along the
streets, shouting, screaming, hallooing,
like so many wild Indians sometimes
dashing on to the sidewalks, to avoid
the crowd of carriages, and then
sweeping on through the moving lines
of omnibuses, as if they would tear
up the very pavement in their fury
and haste. The people generally paid
no attention to the fire, or to the noise
the firemen made about it. They went
on their way with the same earnest-
ness, or lounged on the corners with
the same indifference, as before.
Frank. How did they know that
their own houses might not be on fire ?
Few of them would stop to think
of that; and those who did, would
know from the four strokes of the
bell whether or not the fire was in
their district. In New York, none but
the firemen and the rowdies take any
interest in a fire, unless their own
property is in danger ; and it is well
they do not. If everybody should
rush to the scene, as they do in small
towns and villages, the crowd would
be so great, the firemen could not do
their duty, and every fire would be ac-
companied by a mob and a fight.
THE ALPHABET. The alphabet may
be varied so many millions of times,
that if a man could accomplish the im-
possible task of reading one hundred
thousand words in an hour, it would
require four thousand six hundred and
fifty millions of men to read those
words, according to the above hourly
proportion, in twenty thousand years.
148
MEASURES.
MEASURES.
M TINGLE," said Frank, looking up
*^ from the paper he was reading,
" pray, what is meant by measures, so
much talked about in the papers?
Here, in one article, I find ' the meas-
ures of the party,' 'the measures of
the cabinet,' and ' the measures of the
President.' Then I have read, else-
where, of 'political measures,' 'relig-
ious measures,' 'measures of duty,'
' measures of interest,' ' measures in
music and poetry,' and many other
kinds of measures, besides the gallons,
yards, bushels, etc., of arithmetic."
"Well, Frank," replied Uncle Hi-
ram, " if you wish to measure the
whole length and breadth of that
word, you will find it quite a job. The
definition of measure, in Webster's
Dictionary, is divided into sixteen
heads. I advise you, for the present,
to let them all alone, except the busi-
ness measures, or the measures of the
arithmetic, which you will find useful,
if you have them at your tongue's end.
Here are a few of them in rhyme :
MEASURES.
By different measures we obtain
Due quantities of wood or grain,
Of cloth, or land, or wine, and tell
How much of each we buy or sell.
CLOTH MEASURE is for ribbons, tapes,
And cloths, and silk, for coats or capes.
LONG MEASURE serves to tell and trace
The distances from place to place.
SURVEYORS' MEASURES, understand,
Are only used in measuring land.
DRY MEASURE tells how much we gain
Of salt, coal, fruit, potatoes, grain ;
While LIQUID MEASURE justly classes
Wine, spirits, beer, oil, milk, molasses.
SQUARE MEASURE deals with surfaces,
As walls, and floors, and fields, and seas.
And CUBIC MEASURE ascertains
What any solid shape contains.
TIME MEASURE tells us, as they fly,
How days, months, years, are rushing
by;
And CIRCULAR MEASURE shows the
worth
Of lines that circle round the earth,
And of the bands which reason's eye
Traces across the glittering sky.
LIQUIDS.
In measuring liquids, first we take
4 little gills one pint to make ;
2 pints then make one quart, and still
4 quarts the gallon measure fill.
Gallons one half and 31,
Will fill a barrel to the bung.
2 barrels to the hogshead go,
2 hogsheads fill a pipe, and so
2 pipes will near a tun o'erflow.
Though many good things are meas-
ured still
By gallon, quart, and pint, and gill,
Yet Liquid Measure oft seems to me
" The measure of human misery."
For O, what countless evils come
From brandy, whisky, rum, and gin,
Which it were better ne'er to touch,
For a single drop is " a drop too much."
60 seconds make 1 minute,
Time enough some good to do ;
60 minutes make 1 hour,
Who will dare to waste it ? Who?
24 hours make up the day,
Time for work, and sleep, and play ;
7 days to the week are given,
Six for toil and one for heaven.
God gives me six for work and play,
I will not steal the seventh away.
4 weeks in every month appear,
12 months make up the rolling year ;
100 years how soon they flee
Are what we call a century.
NELLY AND CHARLEY.
149
NELLY AND CHARLEY.
U A CHARLEY, I never can stop
v laughing at those two great
buttons on the back of the old coat ;
they are almost down to your heels,"
said Nelly, as she clapped her hands
in glee. " I must run and call auntie,
to look at you. Good-bye, grandpa,"
and she runs for Aunt Mary.
Nelly has helped Charley to put on
grandpa's long coat and great heavy
hat, for fun; and now, with the tall
staff in his hand, he is grave as a
judge; and it is best that he should
move carefully, or the hat will come
over his eyes.
Happy brother
and sister, amusing
themselves, and no
disputing or quar-
reling. If the hat
and the coat could
speak, I am sure
they would tell us
they are amused
too with these good
children ; and hap-
pier than they have
sometimes been ; for
heads that wear
hats as large as the one in the picture
often ache ; and such great coats often
button over aching breasts aching,
because the times are hard, and it is
difficult to obtain all the food, and
clothes, and books which Nellys and
Charleys need. But children do not
know about such things ; and those
who have parents need not think
much about them, only be never
wasteful of what is provided for you,
and make all the return you can, by
being dutiful and affectionate.
You may be sure this Charley will
never strike his sister, nor will Nelly
ever tease her brother ; but each will
in every way assist and please the
other. If Charley's mittens get out
of the way, at school-time, as the mit-
tens of very good boys will sometimes
do, Nelly will trip around, searching
for them, and laughing so good-na-
turedly, will toss them into his hat;
then tell him of the queer place in
which she found them ; and then lay
the whole blame to the little dog Ro-
ver, who is very full of mischief, and
pulls things about, just as he pleases.
Then Nelly tells Aunt Mary that Char-
ley was not in fault about the mittens ;
and he gives her a
kiss on her cheek,
and away they
scamper to school.
O how much pleas-
anter than disput-
ings, and fault-find-
ings, and sour looks,
on the way !
There are many
children not hap-
py, like Nelly and
Charley in the pic-
ture. Many boys
here in New York
are glad to wear some man's old coat,
which hangs to the very ground, and
no sister to laugh and caper, because
the dreadful looking thing can be
taken off by-and-by. O, no, the boy
is glad to wear it all the time ; and
often his poor little heart aches under
it ; for he is homeless and hungry, and
any one's heart will ache to see hun-
dreds of them.
Little readers, when you think of
these, let it make you thankful to
those who care for you, giving you
home, and food, pleasant books, and
so many other good things. _
LAURA ELMKE.
150
THE GOPHEK, OB 8ALAMANDEK.
THE GOPHER, OB SALAMANDER.
HERE is no end to
our discovery of cu-
rious animals, it
would seem. Have
you ever heard of the go-
pher ? I don't believe you
have ; and yet there is a tribe
called by this name in our Southern and
Western States and Territories. I saw
the creature first in Kansas. He bur-
rows there, on the prairies. After my
visit to Kansas, I went to Wisconsin;
and while at the house of a dear
friend in Waukesha, I made the ac-
quaintance of another species of the go-
pher, resembling the former somewhat,
but appearing much smaller. The Wis-
consin species was more like a striped
squirrel, than any other animal I ever
saw ; and indeed I thought it was this
little mischievous fellow, until a son of
my Waukesha friend caught a gopher
in a trap, for my particular inspection.
It would have made you laugh, by-the-
way, to have witnessed the adventures
of this little fellow, after his capture.
My obliging young friend brought
it into the house, and opened the trap
in a very small closet, hardly large
enough to hold two persons. While
I was looking at the chap, who was
immensely frightened, and, indeed, be-
fore I could get a chance to view him
closely, the door being opened into the
dining-room by accident, he ran out
of the closet. Some half a dozen of
us, boys and girls, chased him around
the dining-room, until we were as
tired" as the gopher, and then the cun-
ning fellow took refuge behind a bu-
reau. The only way to manage him
then, was to catch him over again in
the trap. This feat was accomplished.
Then, with the aid of a pair of gloves,
to protect the hands against the go-
pher's teeth for he is a great biter,
though a little animal he was taken
out of the trap, and held, so that I
could inspect him at my leisure.
He was a curious-looking chap, sure
enough. It would be difficult to tell
whether he looked more like a squir-
rel, or a rat. I should have described
this specimen then, for the benefit of
my readers, but I thought I would re-
serve- a description of the family, until
I could obtain some definite informa-
tion respecting the species I saw in
Kansas. So I told my Southern cor-
respondents that I should rely upon
them to furnish me such information.
Several kind friends sent me accurate
descriptions of the Wisconsin species,
but none of them described the South-
ern gopher. I began to fear that I
should never get the information I
desired. But a few days ago, when
opening my morning's mail, I came
across a letter post-marked away down
toward the equator, ever so far.
An especially bulky letter it was.
" I wonder what in the world Uncle
Frank has had sent to him this time!"
I thought. The letter was opened,
when lo ! out popped a gopher, or sal-
amander, as some call the animal.
" What ! was he alive, Uncle Frank ?"
No, my child. He was as dead
THE GOPHER, OK SALAMANDER.
151
as a herring dead, indeed, as a door-
nail. My friend had sent me the skin
of the animal entire, so that I could
see exactly how he looked when he
was living, and playing the mischief
with a field of sugar-cane. He is
larger than a house-rat, and his color
is like that of the musk-rat. His teeth
are very formidable. They are four hi
number two above, and two below.
The lower ones are three-quarters of
an inch in length. You wouldn't
wonder how the rogue cuts off a stalk
of sugar-cane, if you were to examine
these teeth. The most curious thing
about the gopher is, that he carries
two enormous pouches, one on each
side of his cheek. The two together
will hold a gill, I should think. But
I must copy my friend's letter, from
which you will learn more about this
singular animal.
" MELVILLE HILL, WEST FLORIDA, )
May 28, 1857. 5
"DEAR UNCLE FRANK: I send you
a salamander skin. Two of the tusks
are broken off by the shot. The one
I had for you was brought up by our
cat, and although I gave her the meat
nicely cleaned, she was not satisfied
with that, but jumped on the mantle,
and reached up and pulled all the legs
off the skin, and also part of the head.
The one I now send was shot by one
of my neighbors. He says it is the
largest he ever saw. It is twice as
large as the one caught by the cat.
They are very destructive on sugar-
cane and sweet potatoes. As soon as
the lower joints of cane mature, they
cut them down, and draw them into
their holes. They do not run along
under the surface of the earth, as
moles do, but make holes a foot or
more below the surface, with openings
every five or six feet, at which they
throw out the earth. They live almost
entirely under ground, appearing above
only when they 'come up with a load
of earth or sand. This they throw in
a pile immediately at the mouth of
their hole, and dodge back very quick-
ly. He is expert with a gun who can
kill them before they get out of sight.
The piles are made without much reg-
ularity, sometimes in segments of a
circle, with a wide sweep for fifty or
one hundred yards. Again, they are
seen in clusters, almost as thick as
hills made for potatoes. They mostly
throw up about a peck at a place, but
some places twice that quantity, and
at others less. As soon as they finish
a pile, they stop up the hole, or so
cover it that it is not seen, and is even
difficult to find. It is very difficult to
dig them out of their holes ; for their
gangways seem to be connected one
with another, and they pass along
them very rapidly. They are also very
industrious. If y6u notice where one
has thrown up a fresh pile, and mark
it, and return the next morning,
you will see three or four fresh piles
near by. They work principally at
night, but may sometimes be seen in
cloudy days at any hour, though more
frequently in the morning. They use
the pouches on their cheeks for pro-
vision bags, packing into them bits of
roots, cane, potatoes, or nuts. Thesfe
pouches are also of service in carrying
up earth ; but they do not pack it in
as they do their food. The earth is
shoved up on their breasts, with their
paws extended on either side.
" This animal, in its size, appear-
ance, and habits, answers exactly to
the description given by Webster un-
der the word gopher. If you can tell
me a mode of conveyance, I will send
you a young gopher. They will live
for weeks without food.
"FAR SOUTH."
152
MERRY 8 MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FEIENDS.
BWII \
WHITEWATER, WALWORTH COUNTY,
WISCONSIN, Mar. 4, 1858.
MR. MERRY Dear Sir: Inclosed I
send the money for the MAGAZINE of
1858.
We have NINE subscribers in White-
water, from whom we are expecting a
dollar each, at this time. Which of them
shall we credit with the dollar received ?
We do not often receive letters without
signatures ; but we are often very much
puzzled to know where to find the names
that are sent us. One writes from
" Franklin," without naming the State,
not considering that there is a Franklin
in nearly every State in the Union. An-
other writes without any date at all, and
we have nothing but the post mark on
the envelope to guide us ; which is often
so indistinct, as to be no guide at all. A
third writes from a new home in the
West, or elsewhere, and says, "Please
send my MUSEUM to this place, here-
afcer" without saying where his former
residence was, so that we have to send to
both places, till we can find the name.
Let every one take the hint.
toii|r p Jfrwnirs.
March 24, 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY : I took your
MUSEUM several years ago, and wish you
could know how I prize it. As cousin
L. is old enough this year to have a
paper, I asked ma to send for the MU-
SEUM for her.
It made me sad when I saw so many
names joined with yours, to think that
perhaps Mr. Merry has grown so old and
infirm as to be no longer able to bear
alone the weight of my favorite paper. I
am always shy of strangers, even of
strange papers ; however, I would be de-
lighted to make an acquaintance with
Aunt Sue, Uncle Frank, and Uncle
Hiram, if I knew how. I wish I could
join the circle of little cousins, but, as I
am a great girl of seventeen, I will not
dare to ask.
Please tell Uncle Frank that I am
greatly obliged to him for his lighthouse.
I trust its light will not burn all in vain.
MARY.
Why, Mary dear, we have not only
scores of girls of 17, 18, and upwards,
but married ladies and mothers, who still
cling to us as in their earlier days, and
always join our Chat with as much relish
and glee as the youngest of the group.
No wonder you think me very old and
infirm, if you think yourself, at 17, too
old to be merry.
SAN FRANCISCO, Feb. 19, 1858.
MY DEAR UNCLE FRANK: You have
told us about Barnum's on Broadway ;
and now / will tell you a little about the
Barnum of the Pacific. The proprietor is
Adams. He has a bear, Sampson, weigh-
ing 1,800 pounds, Lady Washington and
her cub, two monkeys, Fremont and
Buchanan (the latter a little black fellow,
to indicate his principles), two sea lions,
and one sea leopard, a mammoth pig, and
one buffalo, and many, many other
things, too numerous to mention. Master
Fremont shows the people how the babies
cry in the mountains. There is one lit-
tle monkey that has not good manners
bites and snaps at all around. He bit
me about two months ago, and I have the
scar yet.
Your affectionate California nephew,
A. L. H.
If you Pacific monkeys are not more
pacific than the one you encountered, we
could not admit them to our MUSEUM.
We have no biting here, and no political
monkeys but we go for entire freedom
of speech.
WAUKEGAN, March 1, 1858
DEAR MR. MERRY : It is now over
seventeen years since the MUSEUM be-
came a member of our family. Those
who were " little ones" at that time,
have arrived at years of understanding ;
still it is received, and read with as much
interest as formerly.
Though now a stranger to you, I shall
take pleasure in addressing you again,
telling you of our beautiful situation on
the shore of Lake Michigan.
Your friend, BLUE-EYED EMMA.
Welcome, Emma, 17 or 70, you shall
be always welcome.
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
153
SOMEWHERE, March 17, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE MERRY : I have never
asked permission to call you Uncle, but
hope that you will own me as one of the
cousins, for if you don't, I'll I'll well,
I suppose I'll have to call you Mr. Merry.
But to come to the point at once, will you
please inform the" Merry family" that I
know who Aunt Sue is, and more than
that , I have her portrait ? COY.
We can't be de-eoy-ed into any further
discussion about Aunt Sue at this time.
NATCHEZ, March 16,. 1858.
MY DEAR UNCLES : I am very anx-
ious to join your circle, and to be consid-
ered as one of your nieces, and a cousin
of Willie Coleman's. Ask him, for me, if
a pair of dark blues will not be a toler-
able, substitute for the black. Just come
South, Willie, for one winter, and I bet
you a kiss that you'll never want to go
back again. We have flowers all winter.
This morning I went out in the garden
and gathered a beautiful bouquet. I wish
I could send it to one of my Uncles, I
hope Nip will not leave us until HE re-
turns from Europe, for 7 also wish to
have him " our special correspondent"
while there. MARIA.
WILMINGTON, N. C.,Mar. 1, 1858.
DEAK MR. MERRY: Have you room
for one more ? I read in your MUSEUM
for February, about kindness to animals.
1 think that no animal of any kind should
be ill treated. How that savage man
must have felt, when poor Mary spoke so
kindly to him ! When I am at play, I
shall try to think of this. I have been
here about two years ; I attend the Meth-
odist Sunday school, and enjoy it very
much. I like my day school, too. I
shall dislike to leave them ; but I expect
to, before long. JOSEPH C. G.
INDIANAPOLIS, April 3, 1858.
DKAR UNCLE Hi. : How do you do?
How's Aunt Rue, and all the little
Merrys ? Introduce me quick, please ;
for already I begin to feel strange and
homt -nek, though I'm not a bit afraid of
your awful hatchet ! " I was not born
in the woods to be scared at a"
hatchet. You are too good-natured to
be very savage when a little rustic like
myself makes her first appearance among
you. True! we may not \now how to
behave quite so well as our city relatives,
but that is not our fault. We will soon
learn, if you will let us sit awhile in the
quiet observer's corner. I've a great
mind to say something to frighten my
fine cousins a little I will ! Only yes-
terday I saw two real live Indians ! They
looked so queer with their red blankets
wrapped around them ; deerskin mocca-
sins, painted faces, and feather-decked
heads.
Uncle Hi., I like "Flibbertigibbet"
right well. Excuse me, I'm a country
girl. " Timid Birdie" and I read the
MUSEUM together, though we are not
sisters. HOOSIER ANNE.
CREEK AGENCY, ARK., TALLAHASSEE
MISSION, Dec. 30, 1857.
DEAR UNCLE FRANK : I was sur-
prised to find my letter in the November
number of the CABINET, as it had been a
long time since I wrote it. My name
was spelt wrong; but I suppose it was
my own fault in not writing plainly. It
is not Robert M. Longhudge, for I am
neither long nor huge but Robert H.
Loughridge.
I hope you will come and visit us in your
travels. We have a school here of about
ninety white Indian children, some of
whom are your nephews and nieces,
whom you might like to see, and they
would be delighted to see you, 7am sure.
The best time to come is in the spring, as
the Arkansas River is high enough at that
time for steamboats.
From your affectionate nephew,
ROBERT H. LOUGHRIDGE.
CHICAGO, Feb. 13, 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY : So " Black- Eyes"
is married. I always thought she was
pretty old. How long has her head been
in the "matrimonial noose?" Green
Eyed Nettie and I had a long talk about
her. I agree with Laura perfectly about
"Mr. Coleman." " Harry," suppose you
and I traverse Illinois, and electioneer for
the MUSEUM. "Bess," I will not com-
ment upon the first part of your letter ;
but I assure you Nettie is not " green-
eyed, and I have persuaded her to drop
that cognomen. " Timid Birdie," I prom-
ise you, when you come into the room, I
will not " look round." " Tennessean,"
you are not much of a philanthropist,
you should send your love to all your
cousins. Good-bye,
ANNIE DRUMMOND.
154
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
BUDGET or CURIOSITIES.
An arrow from the bow of the cloud.
C. W. F.
A leaf from the tree of knowledge.
C. W. F.
FROM GEORGIAN.
The pan from the knee of a ship.
A key for a lock of hair.
A passenger for the train of thought.
FROM THE COMMODORE.
A teacher for a school of fish.
The name of the lawyer who drew up
the " bonds of iniquity."
One of the legs of a toad-stool.
A fish from the stream of time.
A clasp for the mantle of charity.
One of the darts of Cupid.
One of the eyes of a looking-glass.
FROM TENNESSEE BOB.
A feather from the bolster of a wagon.
A few splinters from the poles of the
earth.
A round from the ladder of fame.
A pupil for the eye of a needle.
A few drops from the fountain of
knowledge.
FROM EUREKA.
A few flowers from the " path of recti-
tude."
A bone from the hour-hand of a clock.
The original horn of plenty.
A wrinkle from the brow of a hill.
HUSTISFORD, Wis., March 3, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE MERRY: So " Nip" is
off for Europe. Hope she (?) will have a
pleasant trip, and send the readers of the
MUSEUM a brilliant account of her (?)
travels. Love to the 20,000 cousins.
Affectionately, your niece,
JOSEPHINE L. HUSTIS.
Do you hear that, Nip ?
KINGSBORO, March 7, 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY : How are you all
since I last wrote ? I suppose you have
behaved yourselves unusually well during
my absence. You can not imagine my
surprise when I opened the February
number and found that Black-Eyes has
got a " husband !" Who would have
thought that she, the light of our MU-
SEUM (excuse me, Mr. Coleman, and all
the other candles) , should be thus put out
by that great extinguisher, " matri-
mony." And so " Nippinifidget" thinks
that we are going to give her up. We
musn't do it. Let her go ; but I suppose
all my endeavors to keep her back would
be like trying to stop the wind. How far
your " MUSEUM" does travel, Mr. Merry;
from New York to Minnesota. Oregon,
California, or to Europe, if Nip does not
choose to stay with us.
EMMIE M. JOHNSON.
Do you hear that, Nip ?
SIMSBURY, CT., March 3, 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY : I was in New
York last week, but did not see any of
our Merry friends to recognize them. We
saw some long faces and some sharp ones,
but none that looked very Merry, or ex-
actly like a Hatchet ?
Father says the Merry family left New
York last Fall, and have not returned
yet. Is this so, or what is the reason
none of them called on me ? The MUSEUM
and I have been constant companions ever
since I can remember, and I think we
ought to be well acquainted.
Your black- eyed cousin, LUCIE.
How could you, Lucie, come so near,
and not call ? We shall retaliate, by call-
ing on "you the first chance we get. Tell
your father the Merry family have not
left New York, by any means. They are
here and there, and everywhere.
DECATUR, GA., Feb. 8, 1858.
To UNCLES, AUNT, AND COUSINS :
Can I, a half Yankee by blood and cu-
riosity, ask, is not Miss Black-Eyes, now
Mrs. M , a sister of Win. Coleman ?
and is not Aunt Sue, by name, Mrs.
W ? Please tell. We must know at
once, or weary your patience by our en-
deavors to find the real names. Tell Mr.
Hoyt Coleman to let me know his address,
and perhaps I may write him a few lines.
Mr. Whitner has my best respects, also
W. Hayden Coleman. I think the latter
gent goes in strongly for Union. Take
Equality along, cousin Coleman, too.
Yours, with respect, GEORGIAN.
Not much of a Yankee, after all, Geor-
gian. Both your guesses are wrong.
Aunt Sue is Aunt Sue, but has no blood- re-
lationship to any of the parties ,you name.
INGLESIDE, MORRISTOWN, Feb. 8, 1858.
DEAR MUSEUM : It is some time since
I last wrote to you. I am jealous ! I
have written lots of letters, and all have
been consigned to the basket except two !
How much love, kisses, etc., sent to sun-
MEBRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FKIENDS.
155
dry cousins, do you suppose, has been
stowed away in that monster-mouthed,
never-to-be-satisfied receptacle ? Ah ! me !
I dare Uncle H. to make a pun on my
name. Can't be did, / know.
I wish to inform A. 0. Whitner that I
am a Southerner, though hailing from
Jersey.
Well, Laura, you have a very high
opinion of Mr. Coleman. I hope he ap-
preciates it. D. B. OLYPHANT.
Uncle Hiram declines having anything
to do with a name which is all a
phant(om), and whose initials are so
much like a perpetual dun D. B. 0.
DebeoI am in debt.
OGDENSBURGH, Feb. 6, 1858.
DEAR UWCLE MEBRY : I received
your welcome MUSEUM last evening. I
had been on the look-out for it ever since
the first of the month. As 'soon as the
mail arrives I start for the post-office.
The letter you received last month from
this place, without any signature, which
told about the Sabbath School Festival,
was from me. I was in so much haste
that I forgot to sign it. After going to
school for eight or nine years, I left off
the eleventh day of January, and went
and acted as clerk in my brother's store.
Give my love to Uncle Hiram, Uncle
Frank, Aunt Sue, and all the rest of the
Merry family, and please accept a large
share for yourself
Your affectionate nephew,
GEO. 13. HIGBEE.
There, it's useless trying to get along
with such narrow accommodations for
our large family. We shall be obliged
to have a large Hall, or hold our meet-
ings in the open air. We could make our
own room large enough, if all the Merrys
would pay up. We have scores of Merry
tongues all ready to let out ; but no room
to hear them. We must speak a word
for them, and that is all we can do.
Adel says "good-bye" to Nip, and
hopes she will write often from Europe to
the Chat.
Quilp wishes to know the name and
birthplace of the author of " The Boy's
Own Book," and thinks Nip can tell him.
H. C. Wimarkston, of Snowdrift, says,
" If my letter don't suit your fancy,
don't say peas or potatoes about it." A
very merry vegetable he must be, for the
cold region he dates from.
J. L. Camith, Spring Grove, proposes
that the boys should " put on mourning
for Black-Eyes," and then, in a P. S.,
sends her his " congratulations." Better
send her a bouquet of spring- flowers, or
a basket of oranges. He wishes to say
to Cousin Alonzo C. W. that they are
only thirty miles apart.
Eugenie Forrest, Sweetland Valley,
says, " Reading the Chat fosters a strong
inclination to ' put in a word ;' thinks
we make a great ado about Aunt Sue's
name ; wishes Uncle Frank would take a
journey to the moon ; write letters to
the MUSEUM about the place and the
people; and guesses she knows Arthur
T s, in spite of his nom tie plume.
Moss Rose, Michigan, has such a dread
of " the basket," that he talks of nothing
else. . .
Charles G. C., Mendon, fears both the
basket and the hatehet, and " wonders
which we like best, long letters, or short
ones." If we liked long letters, we should
never cut them short, and the hatchet
would have nothing to do.
Hattie, Centerville, says, " I have a
Cousin Prank, whom I love dearly, and
am glad to find I have an Uncle Frank
to love."
Willie M. K. invites us to Mt. Ver-
non, Ohio. We will certainly remember
him. when we go that way, and hope he
will not only take the will for the deed,
but come and see us.
Mary E. and David W. S. ask for a
seat by the side of Aunt Sue, and an in-
troduction to all the cousins.
The Squirrel Catcher is about to sail
for Europe, and hopes to meet " Nip"
there. We hope he will send to the Mu-
SKUM some of the squirrels he catches,
and such of the curious things as he may
nip there.
156
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
Jennie thinks " Mr. Merry is a sober
old gentleman, and would like a calm,
sedate letter." When she is better ac-
quainted, she will find that we like no
particular style of letter but one in
which the heart speaks right out just
what is uppermost grave or gay, funny
or sober, it matters not, so that it be
fresh and sincere, and not stiff and for-
mal.
Canary, from Easton, sings a pleasant
song, wishes to be introduced to the cous-
ins, promises to "keep quiet while the
rest are talking, and not dispute about
Aunt Sue," and sends a golden pledge of
continued, friendship. So she is caged.
Charley C. Waters thinks Willie H. C.
sharp enough for a Hatchet, and wishes
an introduction to Bess's sister."
Young Sucker fears there is not room
enough for him in our parlor, and thinks
the reason why so few of the Illinois
cousins write to the Chat is, that they
are bashful, like himself. If so, we hope
they will soon outgrow it.
May, " although a little girl," is in
favor of free speech and a free press
reads the papers likes the MCSEUA:
best, and wishes Uncle Hiram would
write something about the fugitives to
Canada. If he should ever meet one
whose history would be interesting to
children, he would probably tell them of
it, the first chance he could get.
Mary A. Wyne knocks for admission.
Open the door and give her a hearty wel-
come.
Fannie wishes for some rules to make
the writing of compositions easy. Uncle
Hiram says, the best rule is, to think
more of what you have to say, than of
how to say it. Young persons trouble
themselves too much about language, style
and manner. Leave them to take care of
themselves, as you do in talking, and
attend well to your thoughts, or to your
facts, as the case may be.
E. C. Van D. Veteran, sends a ques-
tion, which he will find fully answered on
pages 86 and 87, March number. He
wants Robin Hood's eight men in seven
beds explained more fully. Who will
make it plainer than it is in the rhyme ?
Emily H, Frank is fully admitted as
Uncle Frank's niece, and cousin to all the
Merrys.
Theron confesses that " Blue-Eyes" is
right, and inquires affectionately for Aunt
Su(san). His enigma shall come out in
due time. We have bushels of enigmas,
and not half a bushel of room to spare
for them. Let all have patience, and
learn to put everything into the shortest
possible compass.
W. H. Coleman (North) charges with
Linguieide, first, Malta, " Looking down
in the mouth." '?J3own in whose mouth ?"
he asks. " Not my own, I suppose." And
then but he is too severe ; we cut him
off. Secondly, Nip " knocked into a
cocked hat !" just as if a cocked hat was
ever made large enough to take him in
bodily. Why, Nip, how could you ? Wil-
lie hints at the guillotine. Wonder if he
means Guillaume-tine. We guess so, for
he immediately says, " My heart, like an
omnibus, always has room for one more."
Charlie B., Raleigh, sends love to Aunt
Sue and all the cousins, and asks for a
quiet corner in the Chat. Here it is,
Charlie, with a cordial welcome from all.
Adrienna will please make herself at
home. Aunt Sue sends a kiss to Jesse.
Edward Cahill, Kalamazoo, is " one
of us."
Black-Eyes, Port Gibson, is another.
Let them not be alarmed at having so
many Uncles. So large a family would
seem to require more than one.
Lizzie B. invites us to Bloomfield. Says
she is very bashful, and, yet a great romp
sends love to cousins, a kiss to Aunt
Sue, and what do you think ? another
to her Uncles, to be divided between them,
probably.
Star State thinks, if "Black- Eyes"
has gone, and " Nip'- is going, others
will rise up to take the place of the de-
parted stars.
MERKY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FKIENDS.
157
Cousin Hattie, Belle Prairie, sends
love to all the house. She asks for the
rule about " writing on both sides of the
paper." Her own letter is a sufficient
answer, as she wrote only on one side.
Her hens laid the money to pay for the
MUSEUM. She does not say why they
did not hatch it.
Tennessee Bob bobs a good-humored
bow to Aunt Sue and the 20,000 cousins.
We hope he will feel himself introduced,
and make himself as much at home as if
on his own plantation.
Curly Head, of North Port, says his
father has been eighteen years a mission-
ary among the Indians. He talks the
Indian language. He tells of " a mu-
sical spider, who stays among the ever-
greens, over the melodeon, and whenever
it is played, comes down and sits on the
books. When the playing is finished, he
goes back to his nest."
Eureka thinks Aunt Sue must be the
daughter of her father, and that it is of
no use to inquire farther. Asks after
Winona, wishes an introduction to Sigma,
Fleta, and Buckeye Boy thinks the
hatchet "a good institution," and is in
favor of the " ten line bill." Perhaps he
will think the " good institution" too good
this time.
W. C. Hauser thinks we are partial
and unjust, because we have not published
the articles he sent us. He will please to
understand, that we alone must judge
what to admit and what to reject. We
can not publish one tenth part of what
we receive. We are tee- total on the Tem-
perance question as he can be, and have
often proved that we have no objections
to an article because it comes from the
South.
Brisbane S. counts up the cousins, and
sends love to all.
E. Logans, Cleopla Jones, Virginia
Jlyer, Laura Fisher Your very kind
and pleasant letters, forwarded by our
mutual friend, Pansy, have given us great
satisfaction. The assurance that many
warm young hearts and many bright eyes
are looking earnestly for our monthly
visits, and always greeting them with a
cordial welcome, is the sweetest part of
our reward for the efforts we make to in-
struct and please our friends. We are most
happy to notice your desire to learn, and
your rapid improvement, and hope you
will always have the same desire, and make
the same efforts, and above all things
else, seek the wisdom that cometh from
above. If you had as much pleasure in
writing, as we have had in reading your
letters, you are amply repaid for the
trouble. We are greatly indebted to
" Pansy" for her frequent remembrances
of us and our family.
ROBERT MERRY.
AUNT SUE'S BUREAU.
TTNCLE HIRAM hands me my pack-
U age of letters, delicately insinuating
that I am to prune unsparingly. Well,
if I must, I must; but I'll save the
pith.
First, here is my ol no, my young
no well, we'll dispense with the adject-
ive my friend, Adelbert Older. He is
opposed to any more jokes on his name,
and it really has got to be no joke. Just
think of his feeling " the spirit of sev-
enty-six !" Poor old fellow ! But let
me give you the pith of his remarks :
* * * Suppose some one should ask
if I were as old as Adam ? the reply still
would be, " He is Older." ' * * My
Birthday is the Fourth of July, and
therefore I feel the spirit of seventy-six
in me. * * * From your independent
nephew, ADELBERT OLDER.
Now, Delly, if any one pokes any more
fun at you, touching your superprimo-
antediluvian name, just you let me
know it !
* * * Aunt Sue, why don't you
have a Bureau every month ? Is thero
not room for you and all the Uncles ? If
158
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
not, I'll tell you what I would do. I
would " set up" my Bureau first always,
and then, if there was any vacant space,
why, let the Uncles have it ; but don't
show this to Uncle Axe, or he will hatchet
it all off before it appears in public. A
kiss for Nip, and one for yourself. From
MARIA.
" Uncle Axe" could not have treated
your letter worse than I have. Could
he, Maria dear ? I am afraid if I " set
up" niy Bureau every time in the present
crowded state of affairs, there would soon
be nothing of it left but splinters !
DEAK AUNT SUE: There are many
persons besides myself who wish to know
who you are, but you seem to desire that
we should not, so I suppose we shall have
to be contented with only your nomme
de plume. * * * We are this year
going to school away from home. We
are delighted with our school-fellows,
and our teacher makes it a pleasure for
us to learn. If you should ever come
South, our house will be open to receive
you. With much love,
I remain, yours, CURLY WIG.
Well, that is a very kind and hospit-
able offer ; but is there only one " Curly
Wig" in all Waynesville ? I think I had
better save your " letter of credit," as
my card of admission, in case I should
find the right house.
DEAR AUNT SUE : Will you allow
me the privilege of a seat in the Cor-
ner ? How did Willie Coleman know that
" Black- Eyes" wasn't to be kissed any
longer ? I wonder if he has a better
right to know than any one else !
Aunt Sue, I believe you are Fannie
Fern. You talk to children just as she
does. We little folks think a good deal of
Fannie. * * * Y.ours, CORA.
Aunt Sue thinks a great deal of the
" little folks."
* * * Auntie, please introduce
me to all the cousins belonging to the
Merry family. Introduce me softly to
Fleta and Willie H. Coleman, lest they
too vanish like all imaginary beings ; but
if they are not, may I be permitted to
join them ! Yours affectionately,
MYRTA.
I think I can promise you a kind recep-
tion, Myrta. Your poetry I shall hand
over to Uncle Hiram, as I am " but a
passenger" in that department.
The same remark applies to " Nellie."
I never could have received any letter
from you, Nellie, and failed to notice it.
" G. F. Fly." It is " indeed a long
time since you wrote to me ;" but better
late than never. I was very glad to see
your hand-o'-writ once more.
" Clara Burnham." " Almost seven
years old, and don't go to school yet."
Who, then, taught you how to write such
a nice little letter ?
" Kate Goodrich" wishes an introduc-
tion to the " Merry circle." Walk in,
dear, we are not at all exclusive,
" Katie," who is your writing-master ?
I wonder if all his pupils do him as much
credit as a certain young lady, whose
initials seem to be " K. G."
And now, if there be any among you
vexed with me for cutting up their dear
little letters so unmercifully, let him
come forward, " for him have I offend-
ed ;" and I should like to see if we
couldn't " kiss and be friends" again.
Answers to Questions in March No.
31. 1. T-urni-P
E-ime-0
A T
2. T - opi-C
A-w-L
B-orne-0
L- eafle-T
E H
32. Fir-end-ship (Friendship).
33. The conductor is &-board.
34. You are too wise to seize an innocent
person, said the prisoner's counsel.
35. Action.
36. The eye of deceit
Can best counterfeit (count her feet),
And so, I suppose,
Can best count her toes.
37. It takes a whip to make it go.
38. A coat of arms.
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
159
39. Leaves.
40. One is awful L makes it lawful
41. Horse-man- ship.
42. A far-thing.
43. It keeps him always a thinking.
44. Butterfly.
45. XIX. XX.
ANSWERS RECEIVED FROM:
S. A. Brown Maia Tennessee Bob
Marie Charlie B. Texas Boy Susie
L. B-n Nox Mary 11. Lent S. T. C.
Nattie Leonard C. W. Pop. N. M.
W. XI. Jules Henry S. Georgie 0.
Lot Sarah N. Arthur L. Norman
Y. Z. X. -Nemo Tan N. L. D
Western Niece Charlie B. W. H. S.
Questions, Enigmas, Charades, etc.
62. How shall I swallow a door ?
Squirrel Catcher.
63. ANAGRAMS.
1. Tip, find gin pie. 2. Blot her.
zero. Uncle Joe.
64. MATHEMATICAL PUZZLE.
My 1st + 2d -f 3d + 4th = a num-
ber that reads from left to right the
same as from right to left.
My 1st = 4th X 3d -f- 2d X 25.
My 3d = 25 (1st 4th).
My 4th = 1st -^-2 X 2d.
My 1st X 2d X 3d X 4th = 1st X
25,000.
My whole is what we all should be.
Uncle Jof.
65. What is the difference between a
fisherman and a truant school-boy ?
Geo. B. H.
66. Why is the letter U the gayest letter
in the alphabet ? Geo. B. H.
67. Why is U the most unfortunate let-
ter ? Geo. B. H.
68. I am composed of nine letters.
My 4, 2, 3, 7, 9, 5, 2, 4, 5 is a Euro-
pean capital.
My 2, 6, 7 can not be too lofty.
My 8, 7, 9 is a river in the Eastern
Continent.
My 4, 2, 5, 8 is a fruit,
My whole will cause many a 5, 8,
2, 3, and require the 2, 6, 4 of all
benevolent 1, 8, 2, 3, 5, 9.
H. B. P.
69. 'My first is an inquiry. My second,
a metal. My third, an atmospheric
phenomenon. My whole is a part of
equipment of a horse, or of a ship.
Winnie.
70. I am composed of twelve letters.
My 9, 4, 8 is a domestic animal.
My 6, 2, 5 is a pronoun.
My 9, 7, 3 is used on railroads.
My 6, 11, 3, 3, 2, 11, 3 is what Uncle
Merry says he will be, if you will
pay up your subscriptions.
My 10, 4, 6 is a kind of meat.
My 1, 4. 12, 8, 11, 3 is a useful trade.
My whole is a real cutter. . Sallie.
71. ACROSTICAL, ENIGMA.
1, 12, 3, 8 is a very common article.
2, 7, 5, 8 is what kind words do.
4, 6, 7, 12 fools have not.
4, 12, 3, 6 is applied to a foundation.
6, 1, 7 is a quadruped.
6, 12, 8, 7 is part of a country.
7, 1, 10, 5 is a measure.
8, 12, 6, 7 is what sailors do.
9, 3, 7 is a bird.
10, 12, 11,4 comes from cold regions.
1 1 , 8, 4 is what most dislike to be.
12, 4, 9, 2, 5 is a name of Deity.
Unclt Joe.
72. Why is a little tuft of hair
Upon a rabbit's leg
Like to a plaited border fair,
Which ladies very often wear?
Answer me this, I beg.
Buckeye Boy.
73. Entire, I am an animal that's known
to all full well ;
Cut off my head, an animal, much
larger, it will tell ;
Curtail me now, and, strange to say,
you'll very quickly find,
Although you've took but half away,
there's nothing left behind.
Jidelbert Older.
74. Why should old people never joke ?
Jidelbert Older.
75. What is the difference between two
and a half fish, and two, and a half
fish ? Joslin L. Van JL.
76. Why should a watch never be dry ?
Eureka.
77. Who ia that general that goes through
all countries without an army, takes
up his quarters in any capital, raises
money from every village, and is
welcome to the house of every man ?
H. B. Olds.
78. Who is that lady whose visits nobody
wishes, although her mother is wel-
comed by all parties ? H. B. Olds.
160
NOTICES.
NOTICES.
THE PITT STREET CHAPEL LECTURES.
Boston : John P. Jewett & Co.
Seven ministers, from as many dif-
ferent denominations, were invited,
during the year 1857, to preach a series
of sermons, in which each should ex-
plain the grounds of his peculiar be-
lief. These Lectures make up the vol-
ume before us. They are able, fair,
candid, courteous, and may be regard-
ed as presenting the various systems
they advocate in their best and most
convincing aspects. 1. Why am I a
Methodist? by Kev. W. R. Clark. 2.
A Universalist ? by Rev. T. R. Thayer.
3. A Baptist? by Rev. J. N. Sykes.
4. A Trinitarian Congregationalist? by
Rev. N. Adams. 5. A Churchman ? by
G. M. Randall, D.D. 6. A Unitarian?
by Rev. Orville Dewey. V. Spiritual
Christianity, by Rev. T. S. King.
Price, $1. For sale at this office.
We will send it on receipt of the price.
REVIVAL GEMS ; a Collection of Spirit-
stirring Hymns, specially adapted
to Revivals. Compiled by Rev.
Joseph Banvard. Boston : John P.
Jewett & Co.
It is not intended that this collection
should supplant any of those now in
use, but keep them company, and sup-
ply the largely increased demand of a
revival season. It is well adapted for
this purpose, and of convenient size
for the pocket. Price, 25 cents.
THE GARDEN : a Pocket Manual of
Practical Horticulture ; or, How to
Cultivate Vegetables, Fruits, and
Flowers. By the author of ' " How to
Write.' 1 '' New York : Fowler & Wells.
A small, cheap work, embracing not
only brief, simple, and easily under-
stood directions, but also a succinct
exposition of the theory of horticul-
ture very useful to all who have gar-
dens to take care of. Price, 30 cents
in paper covers ; 50 cents in muslin.
HIRAM ANDERSON'S GREAT CARPET
STORE, No. 99 Bowery, New York.
We know of no place in this city,
or any other, where carpets can be
bought cheaper, or in greater variety,
than at Anderson's. We speak ad-
visedly, from experience, hoping that
our friends, in the city and in the
country, will try for themselves, when
they have occasion. The carpet is so
important an article in house-furnish-
ing, that great care should be taken
in the selection.
FALL RIVER LINE TO BOSTON.
This is unquestionably the best line
on the Sound. The Metropolis, the
Bay State, and the Empire /State are
first-class boats, not surpassed in their
qualities and appointments by any
that float in our waters ; while the
captains, Brown, Jewett, and Brayton,
are worthy of all. confidence for the
responsible places they occupy. For
safety, speed, convenience, and for the
comfort of an unbroken night's rest, we
think this line has the preference over
all the others.
REMOVAL.
Our old friend, John S. Willard, has
removed his Loo Tcing- Glass, Portrait,
and Picture-Frame Establishment,
from 440 Pearl Street to 269 Canal
Street, a few doors east from Broad-
way. If you wish to see how good-
looking" you are, or to have your
" poor traits" put into good " frames,"
by all means call on John S. Willard.
He will frame you, gild you, cord and
tassel you, and hang you as artistically
as any of the craft can do.
161
FALLS NEAK SEXECA LAKE.
LAKE SCENEEY OF NEW YORK.
AMONG the multitude of lakes,
** large and small, which diversify
the scenery of Central and "Western
New York, it is difficult to decide to
which the palm of superior beauty
should be awarded. Without drawing
invidious comparisons, where all are
so beautiful and inviting, we will illus-
trate and describe some of the features
and surroundings of Seneca Lake, the
largest and most central of the group.
It is about thirty-six miles long, and
from two to four miles broad. Its
altitude is 450 feet above tide- water,
and more than 200 feet above the sur-
face of Lake Ontario ; yet, owing prob-
ably to its great depth, it is never frozen
in the severest of our winters. The
lakes of this region seem to be strung
like crystal pendents on Seneca and
Oswego rivers, through which their
waters find an outlet to Lake Ontario.
NEW SERIES. VOL. V. 11
Crooked Lake is connected with the
rest Jby an outlet which enters Seneca
Lake on the west, about twelve miles
from its northern extremity. Its ele-
vation is 270 feet above that of Seneca.
The outlet, or chain which connects
them, is broken, irregular, and strongly
marked with rapids, falls, cascades,
and basins, and affords a variety of
the most valuable mill-sites, as well as
some of the boldest and most romantic
scenery in all this region.
The Fall represented above seems to
be a series of bold leaps, each larger
than the preceding, yet forming to the
eye, which views it in front, one per-
fect and stupendous cataract. By the
bridge, thrown across the upper part
of it, it is seen that one, at least, of the
shelves over which these leaps are
made, has some breadth, and that the
cataract is not as broad as it seems.
162
LAKE SCENERY OF NEW YORK.
One of the striking peculiarities of a
scene like this, is the perfect contrast
between the dashing, roaring, foamiug
waters of the Fall, and the calm and
glossy basin, in which they find in-
stant repose.
Cayuga Lake, like Seneca, from
which it is separated about 12 to 15
miles, on the east, stretches north and
south some 35 miles, connecting with
the Seneca Kiver on the north. The
town of Ithaca is beautifully situated
at its southern extremity. The scen-
ery about it is highly romantic and
picturesque. It is abundantly watered
by fine mill-streams. Fall Creek, the
most remarkable of them, has a de-
scent of 438 feet within the space of
one mile, accomplishing several stu-
pendous cataracts, besides many lesser
leaps and noisy rapids. The falls are
just in the outskirts of the village.
The first is truly grand. The entire
stream is poured over the rock, in one
unbroken sheet, 116 feet, while the
banks, above the fall, are nearly per-
pendicular, to the height of 100 feet,
making 216 feet from the top of the
bank to the basin below. Twenty
rods above this, is another fall of 50
feet, and a little farther up, another of
70 feet. The hills around are 400 to
500 feet high. The village of Ithaca
lies in the valley, about one and a half
miles from the lake, on Cayuga Inlet.
The scenery of Rapids is very pecu-
liar, and marked by almost every va-
riety of wild and picturesque beauty.
Sometimes they dash angrily and nois-
ily over obstinate beds of jagged and
impracticable rocks, with nothing of
shade or green, near or distant, to re-
lieve the dreary aspect of the scene.
Sometimes in silence, and with a kind
FALL CREEK, ITHACA.
LA.KE SCENERY OF NEW YORK.
103
of breathless rush, which it is fearful
and almost dangerous to behold, they
glide down the smooth plane, as if
they had a fearful work to do below,
or were escaping from the vengeance of
some fearful work already done, while
the dark forest skirting the banks and
overhanging the stream, gives added
gloom to the sinister aspect of the
waters. Sometimes, with a sort of
mad recklessness, a joyous, rollicking,
dashing indifference, they roll, tumble,
roar and laugh, dance and leap, as if
just let loose for a holiday, and ready
for any kind of a frolic that might
offer; the staid, old trees meanwhile
looking on with grim and frowning
aspect, and the lighter shrubbery
twinkling and smiling, and even blush-
ing in sympathy with the contagious
mirth.
The navigation of rapids is often
dangerous, and always highly exciting.
The difficulty of managing a ship, or a
boat in a current on the ocean, is a
serious one. How much more so, if
the sides of the current were irregular
jagged banks, and the bed full of
sunken and shifting rocks !
Imagine yourself in a small skiff,
just dropping down from the smooth
stream, over the verge of the Eapids.
You feel a sudden impulse forward
a rush a quickening of the pulse a
start in every fibre. Your skiff is no
longer in your control. She is borne
onward by an unseen, irresistible agen-
cy ; you do not ever think of resisting
it. You scarcely hope to be so for
master as to guide your way safely
through. You yield, with a desperate
shrinking submission, a sort of reso-
lute despair, and by-and-by, you
find yourself at the bottom, in clear,
smooth water, wondering what you
had been afraid of, and inwardly wish-
ing for another push from the demon
you have barely escaped.
164
POP CORN.
POP CORN.
T WILL tell you, dear young readers
-* of ME. MERRY, something about pop
corn, that I am sure will surprise
you.
I know you have often paraded a
saucer or small dish of the said luxury,
asking mother and sisters, " Take some,
please,", while your face was painfully
glowing, almost parched like your
corn. I will tell you of a place where
it is made a business, or trade. A
building is appropriated to it ; and six
or eight persons do the work. An
immense wire box is suspended over a
furnace, and when half a bushel of
corn is popping at one time, you may
think there is a beautiful uproar the
maize, which is another name for In-
dian corn, flies about like mad. Twen-
ty bushels bursts or pops into 240
bushels increasing twelve-fold. They
pop, and sell, in good seasons, some
240 or 250 bushels weekly. Think of
that, boys and girls. Five hundred
of the balls, which you see and taste
so often, fill a barrel. Twenty-seven
barrels are prepared in a day. Some-
times they receive orders for sixty
bushels by one house at a distance.
The bin, or box, in which it is first
placed, holds sixty bushels. It is a fine
sight, too, for every kernel is perfect
as a flower. A great sieve passes out
all which are under size or imper-
fect. These go to the chickens by the
barrel.
Often three barrels of sugar are used
weekly, for the coating of the balls.
This is a regularly made candy, which
is poured hot upon the popped corn.
At this place, Merriam's, Franklin
Street, Brooklyn, they use refined
sugar, and the pink-coloring is harm-
less. As I looked upon the corn, or
maize, I remembered that
The life of Sir John Barleycorn
Was long since sung by Burns
To sing of Brother Jonathan Maize,
My muse with ardor turns.
His early life was watched with care,
And guarded every hour ;
One ministered to every need,
From sprouting unto flower.
Young Jonathan no trouble met,
But plump and strong he grew ;
Silk tassel o'er his ear he set,
Exquisite 'twas to view.
But now drew near his trial time
For soon as he matured,
And just had donned his yellow coat,
Of proud repose assured,
All roughly seiz'd was Jonathan Maize,
To Merriam's he was borne ;
It was no merri-ment for him,
For he must burst or burn.
A fiery ordeal would him try
Ah ! that would test the chit
If beauty, goodness, strength is there,
The fire will make the hit.
A furnace is in glowing heat *
Bold Jonathan, hold your own ;
Hark ! 'tis not presto, but 'tis pop
Twelve-fold his size has grown.
Hurrah! hurrah! for Jonathan Maize,
Expanded by the fire !
Pureness and beauty burst to sight ;
We look, and we admire.
All honored now is Jonathan Maize
Selina's kindly hand
Bedecks him in a rosy coat,
With skillful sweetness planned.
Then in a box that's clean and white,
He's carefully encased ;
Upon my word, if you would bite,
You'd say 'twas bite well placed.
LAURA ELMER.
ELEPHANTS, HOW TAKEN AND MANAGED.
165
ELEPHANTS, HOW TAKEN AND MANAGED.
RRIAN, a
Greek writer
of the second
century, thus
describes the
ancient mode of catching elephants :
A large circular ditch is first made,
inclosing space sufficient for the en-
campment of an army. The earth
thus removed is heaped up on each
margin of the ditch, and serves as a
wall. In these walls there is one
opening toward the south, with a
bridge across the ditch, covered with
earth and grass. In the outer wall
are several excavations, near the
bridge, in which the hunters secrete
themselves, and watch, through loop-
holes, the movements of the elephants.
Several tame female elephants are
placed in the inclosure, to attract the
wild ones from without. When a
sufficient number have entered the
trap, the hunters issue from their hid-
ing places, and take up the bridge.
After a day or two, when the captives
are somewhat weakened by want of
food and water, they muster a large
company of men with tame elephants,
replace the bridge, and send the tame
elephants into the inclosure. A bat-
tle ensues, which naturally terminates
in favor of the tame animals, their op-
ponents being quite exhausted by what
they have previously suffered. The
men now coming up tie their feet.
After this, the process of taming and
training them is not difficult.
It is remarkable, that in every mode
of capturing the wild elephant, man
avails himself of the docility of those
he has already subdued. Birds may
be taught to assist in insnaring other
birds, but this is simply an effect of
habit and training. The elephant, on
the contrary, has an evident desire to
join its master in subduing its own
race. It enters into it with alacrity,
and exercises ingenuity, courage, and
perseverance, that are astonishing.
It is often noticed that large male
elephants, the very ones that would be
selected from a flock as most desirable
for use, or for sale, are wandering
away by themselves, apart from the
herd. These are watched, and fol-
166
ELEPHANTS, HOW TAKEN AND MANAGED.
lowed cautiously by day and night,
with several trained females, called
Koomkies. Approaching gradually
nearer, and grazing with apparent in-
difference, the Koomkies at length
press round their victim, and begin to
caress him. If he is in good humor,
and submits to their caresses, his cap-
ture is certain. The hunters cautiously
creep under him, and while he is dal-
lying with his new-found friend, bind
his forelegs together with a strong
rope. Some of the more wily of the
Koomkies will not only protect their
masters, while doing this, but actually
assist in fastening the cords. Some-
times the hind legs are fastened in the
same manner ; when the hunters re-
tire to a distance to watch the motions
of the captive. The Koomkies, satis-
fied that he is secure, now leave him.
He attempts to follow, but is unable.
He now becomes furious, throwing
himself down and tearing the earth
with his tusks. If he succeed in
breaking the cords, and escaping to
the forest, the trappers dare not pur-
sue him. If
not, he is soon
exhausted with
his own rage.
He is then left
until hunger
makes him sub-
missive, when,
under the es-
cort of his
treacherous
friends, he is
conducted to
an inclosure,
where he is
fed, trained,
and complete-
ly subdued.
The inclo-
sure, surround- THE ELEPHAOT.
ed by a ditch, is stih 1 in use in India.
But not content with enticing their
victims to the. place, they gather in
large numbers, and with fire-arms, and
all kinds of noisy instruments, drive
whole herds of them in, the way being
first strewed with the fruits they most
like, to tempt them onward. From
this inclosure they never come out till
they are perfectly tamed. Each ele-
phant has his own mahout, or master,
and will obey no other.
The following account of the man-
ner of disembarking elephants at Cal-
cutta, is from the recent correspond-
ence of the London Daily News :
"Two cargoes of elephants, from
Burmah, have just been landed at
Calcutta. One arrived in the ship
Tubal Cain, consisting of twenty ele-
phants ; the other in the Belgravia,
and numbered fifty elephants. Their
disembarkation took place at the Gov-
ernment dock-yard. The vessels had
to be moored about fifty yards off from
the shore. They were, however,
brought near a jetty at the extremity
ELEPHANTS, HOW TAKEN AJS'D MANAGED.
TRAPPING ELEPHANTS.
of which is a large crane, and by
means of this crane, and the tackle on
board ship, all the elephants were
safely landed. The first party in the
Tubal Cain were landed in a some-
what different manner from the other
in the Belgravia. "When the animals
were hoisted up from between decks,
the hoisting tackle was connected with
the crane-chains, and the crane being
then turned slowly round, each ele-
phant in succession was lowered and
deposited on the bank of the river.
This plan gave too much liberty to
the elephants after reaching terra
firma ; for, as some of them chose to
indulge in a roll and bath in the shal-
low water, after their voyage, time
was lost before the drivers could man-
age to lead them away. It was there-
fore found more convenient and expe-
ditious, to lower each elephant into a
barge alongside the ship, and to land
him afterward, by drawing the boat
the short distance to the shore. - "
"The fifty elephants in the Bel-
gravia were all brought between
decks, and there was only just space
enough for the larger animals to stand
upright, without touching the timbers
of the deck above. The elephants
were ranged on each side of the ship,
strong beams being placed so as to
confine them from rolling toward the
center, while the ship was in motion.
Some of the more mischievous were
tethered by a chain attached to one or
two of their legs, to prevent them
from annoying their neighbors. Each
elephant on board had a mahout, or
driver, and a coolie, or servant, for
feeding and cleaning him. The ma-
hout, assisted by the sailors, arranged
a strong canvas sling, or girth, edged
with strong rope, round the animal's
carcass, and, the tackle being adjusted,
the huge fellow was slowly raised off
his feet, and the ascent was com-
menced. One of the largest was said
to weigh 3 tons 2k cwt. There was
no opposition on the part of the ani-
mals, with one or two exceptions ; in-
deed, for the most part they appeared
anxious each to have his turn as soon
168
INGENUITY OF A. SPIDER.
as possible, for they had sagacity
enough to understand it was the
means of quitting the ship, as it had
been the means of bringing them into
it. There was great excitement among
the crowd on shore, when the boat-
swain's whistle was heard, directing
the sailors at the capstan to hoist
away, and as the falls, or hoisting ropes,
which were connected with the main
and mizzen masts of the ship, became
strained and tightened, presently the
rough, inert-looking mass of the ani-
mal's spine and back was seen above
the deck ; then part of the head, with
which the animal from time to time
prevented himself from being struck
against the sides of the hatchway as
he swung round on either side ; the
small, sluggish eye, which seemed to
be calmly surveying the surrounding
scene ; the active proboscis, forming
by its constant movements a remark^
able contrast with the rest of the pas-
sive frame ; and, finally, after the crane
tackle had been connected, the whole
creature came into view, dangling in
the air, and suspended by a couple of
ropos which seemed like mere threads
compared with the size of the animal
which depended from them. He was
then swung over the bulwarks, and
lowered into the barge alongside. As
soon as the elephant was in the
lighter, the mahout, who had got
down before him, at once jumped on
his neck, and the animal immediately
yielded himself to the direction of his
accustomed master. Sometimes he
would appear a little nervous, putting
his trunk into the water to try its
depth, with a view, perhaps, to ascer-
taining if it were possible to walk
ashore ; but generally he began turn-
ing over some of the fresh grass placed
in the bottom of the boat to divert his
attention, and remained quiet until
the boat was brought as near the
ground of the dock -yard as possible.
Then, at a signal from the mahout, after
again leaning over and carefully test-
ing the depth of water with his pro-
boscis, he slowly raised one huge foot
over the boat's side, then the other,
and in a few minutes he was on his
way to the place where the rest of his
companions were picketed.
INGENUITY OF A SPIDER.
A FRIEND, writing from Havre-de-
Grace, gives the following occurrence
in relation to a spider, showing an
astonishing degree of instinct, if not
of reason. He says :
" Some days since, a gentleman was
walking on one of the wharves in this
place, when he saw a large spider sail-
ing on a chip, not far from the wharf.
The tide was setting out of the har-
bor, the wind blowing on shore. It
was easy to go out to sea ; but to re-
gain the shore, this was the difficulty.
The spider, having gone to one side of
the chip, and then to another, and
after completely viewing his situation,
found any further retreat cut off, had
placed himself in the centre of the
chip. In a short time, the tide had
carried the chip, with its passenger,
near the other side of the wharf, who,
perceiving that the chip would soon
drift beyond it, immediately commenc-
ed spinning a web. The threads of
the web (the wind favoring) were suc-
cessfully blown against the wharf, and
firmly adhered to it. As soon as this
was accomplished, the spider warped
his boat alongside, and thus escaped
destruction."
HEALTH and appetite impart the
sweetness to sugar, bread, and meat.
CUBED OF BIRDNESTING.
169
CURED OF BIRDNESTING.
TAMES lived in a pleasant village in
" Pennsylvania. The country around
was hilly, and not more than a mile
from his house was a high rock, which
rose perpendicularly from the bed of a
river on one side. The view from the
top of this rock was very fine ; hills,
rocks, and trees in every direction,
with a pretty river winding through.
This, of course, was the favorite resort
of schoolboys in summer.
One Wednesday afternoon, school
being out, James proposed to his
schoolmates that they should take a
ramble to this place, and it was unan-
imously agreed to. They started at
once, with merry hearts, and the mile
between them and the rock, though
rather a long one, was soon left behind
them. Arrived there, the party sep-
arated, and wandered off in various
directions. Some exercised their dex-
terity in climbing trees and rocks,
some sailed their little boats in the
water, some hunted about for curios-
THE BIKDLINGS.
ities, and some others searched for
birds' nests in the trees. They found
but very few eggs, however, as it was
late in the season for them, but found
some little birds hardly large enough
to fly. James was among these nest
hunters, and he joined in it with as
much zest as any. This was his
greatest fault ; he was a fine, amiable
boy in most things, and as brave as
need be. His playmates were, of
course, very fond of him. They did
not think his fault a very serious one,
as many of them were as fond of bird-
nesting as he was.
Just on the edge of the rock of
which we have spoken, there was a
sloping spot of earth. A tree had
sprung up here, and was leaning over
the water, that swept the base of the
rock thirty or forty feet below. This
spot was the only earth within the
reach of the tree's roots, but farther
back from the edge, the rocks rose
higher, and the tree was so situated,
that it was watered in some degree by
streams that ran down to it.
We left the boys looking for bird's
eggs. Presently the egg
hunters came upon this
tree, and saw a bluebird
fly toward it. They found
she had a nest in it, just
where the branches join
the main trunk. They
wished to climb the tree,
but thought it too danger-
ous to attempt. James
said, however, he would
try it, and that eggs found
in such a place would be
grand trophies. The rest
tried to dissuade him from
it, but climb it he would.
By this time the whole party were
collected around the tree, and watch-
ed him with the greatest anxiety as he
1TO
CUBED OF BIKDNESTING.
began to climb. Just as he was about
to put his hand on the nest, the boys
called to him to come down, as the
tree's roots were loosening ; in another
moment it fell, with him on it, down,
down to the water! The tree fell a
little head foremost, at first, but the
head of the tree being more buoyant
than the trunk, it soon floated horizon-
tally. James, of course, accompanied
the tree in its fall, and as it struck the
surface a shower of water was dashed
over him, and as he recovered his
senses, he found himself sitting on the
tree with both feet hanging in the
water, and his clothes thoroughly wet.
Though the current was strong, the
tree was -kept from floating away by
some of the branches being caught in
the mud on the bottom. James had
not learned to swim, and there he was
moored in the river with little chance
of escape, the rock rising like a wall
behind him, and the deep water all
around. His companions on the rock
saw his helpless situation, but for
some time could think of no way to
assist him. One of them spoke of try-
ing to find a boat somewhere along
the river, but it was a lonely place,
and they knew of no boat to be found.
The next proposition was to make a
raft, but the river banks were high
and precipitous, above and below, for
some distance, and few trees near it.
So this plan would not do.
At last one of them thought of a
long piece of rope, which he had at
home. He, with some other boys,
started to get it. The boys who re-
mained spent the time looking for
sticks from a foot to two feet in
length the use of which you will
presently see. The boys who had
gone after the rope, did not return for
some time, though they went as fast
as they well could. The rope was
about the size of a clothes-line, but
they thought it was . strong enough to
bear James' weight. They meant
that he should climb on it, and to
assist him in doing so, they doubled it
together, and tied the sticks across it
which had been collected. Fasten-
ing one end of their ladder at the top
of the rock, they threw the other
to James, who was still sitting on
the tree, just in the place where it
fell.
James soon got hold of the rope,
and began to climb up by it. He
found his strength failing him, but
succeeded in reaching the top, and was
helped upon the rock by his friends,
who were rejoiced to see him safe. As
he was very wet, he rested but a short
time before he started homeward. A
terrible cold followed his adventure,
by which he was confined to his room
for weeks.
When he recovered, he made a
promise never to rob a bird's nest
again so that in the end this ac-
cident was a benefit to him, in curing
him of a bad habit. If all boys who
engage in birdnesting had as severe
experience of it as James had, there
would soon be an end of it ; and the
dear little ones could enjoy themselves
in peace with their young.
" WHAT does Satan pay you for
swearing?" asked a gentleman.
" He don't pay me anything," was
the reply.
"Well, you work cheap; to lay
aside the character of a gentleman ; to
inflict so much pain on your friends
and civil people; to suffer; and lastly,
to risk losing your own precious soul,
and all for nothing. You certainly do
work cheap very cheap, indeed."
I
EPIIESU8.
171
EPHESUS.
T7PHESUS was one of the most an-
** cient of the cities of Ionia. It was
on the eastern shore of the Egean Sea,
directly opposite to Athens. Tradition
says, that the Grecian emigrants, un-
der Androclus, who first settled Ionia,
consulted an oracle, to know where
they should build their city. The an-
swer was, "A fish shall show you, and a
wild hoar conduct you." Soon after,
while they were broiling some fish for
their breakfast, one of them jumped
out of the fire with a coal in his mouth,
and fell among the dry grass, which
took fire. The flames spread to a con-
siderable distance, and disturbed a
wild boar, sleeping among the bushes.
The Greeks pursued and killed him,
and on the spot where he fell, they
built Ephesus..
A coin of the city, now in the Mu-
seum at Florence, is stamped with
figures referring to. this story, which
probably was true as far as this: a/
fire, accidentally kindled, disturbed a
boar; the Greek*, in pursuing him,
were drawn to the place which they-
thought suitable- for pitching their
tents; and thus, by degrees, the city
grew up. The incident of the oracle
was, no doubt, an after-thought of the
priests or the poets.
Passing through many changes of
government, and many vicissitudes of
fortune, Ephesus still retained, at the
beginning of the Christian era, much
of its ancient grandeur. It was great-
ly distinguished by the temple of Diana,
which was so magnificent as to be
reckoned one of the seven wonders of
the world. It was more than 200
years in building. It was 425 feet
long, and surrounded by a colonnade
of 127 marble pillars, 70 feet high, and
27 of which* were carved in the most
exquisite manner, and the rest highly
172
TRY, TRY AGAIN.
polished; these pillars were the gifts of
so many different kings.
This temple was destroyed by fire,
in the year 355 B. o., on the very day in
which Alexander the Great was born.
It was afterward rebuilt, in all its orig-
inal magnificence, but again demolish-
ed by order of Oonstantine, about 300
years after Christ. This last temple is
referred to in the Acts of the Apostles.
The preaching of Paul, and the converts
he made among the Ephesians, began
to alarm the priests and the craftsmen
who made their living by manufactur-
ing silver shrines for Diana. These
shrines consisted of miniature repre-
sentations of the temple of the goddess,
with folding doors, which being opened
disclosed her image before the altar.
They were in great demand, not only
among the zealous idolaters of the city,
but among the strangers, who wished
to carry away some relic of so remark-
able a place.
Finding that, under the light of the
gospel, their traffic was rapidly dimin-
ishing, and fearing that they should
soon lose it altogether, they, raised a
mob, under the lead of one Demetrius,
and roused the whole city with the cry,
"Great is Diana of the Ephesians!"
Their object was to kill Paul, and
drive his followers from the city. But,
having no concert of action, and no
proper leader, they did little but shout,
"Great is Diana of the Ephesians!"
and were soon dispersed by the Roman
officers.
This was probably the death-blow to
the worshipers of Diana. It soon began
to decline. A few generations after,
the beautiful statues and magnificent
columns of the temple were carried to
Constantinople, to adorn the church of
St. Sophia, which was, at a still later
day, converted into a TurRish mosque.
Paul resided several years at Ephe-
sus, preaching daily at the school-house
of Tyrannus, a converted Gentile, and
supporting himself by his own labor,
as a tent-maker. Here he wrote his
Epistle to the Galatians, and his first
Epistle to the Corinthians.
Ephesus has now fallen into utter
decay. A few Greek peasants occupy
the place where it once stood. The
great temple has so entirely disap-
peared that its site is not known.
Among the remarkable men of Ephe-
sus were Heraclitus, known as "the
weepimg philosopher," Apelles, the
most distinguished painter of antiqui-
ty, and Parrhasius, also a great paint-
er, but as vain as he was great.
TEY, TRY AGAIN.
'Tis a lesson you should heed
Try, try again.
If at first you don't succeed,
Try, try again.
Then your courage should appear ;
For, if you will persevere,
You will conquer, never fear.
Try, try again.
Once or twice, though you should fail,
Try, try again.
If you would at last prevail,
Try, try again.
If we strive, 'tis no disgrace,
Though we may not win the race.
"What should we do in such a case?
Try, try again.
If you find your task too hard,
Try, try again.
Time will bring you your reward ;
Try, try again.
All that other folks can do,
"Why with patience should not you ?
Only keep this rule in view,
Try, try again.
CANARIES.
173
TJXCAGED AND FKEE.
CANARIES.
MY little bird sits in his cage ;
I have no knowledge of his age.
He nimbly hops from stick to stick,
And seldom stops unless he's sick.
His food and drink are always there ;
He has no mate with him to share ;
And though he's doom'd to live alone,
Seems not to miss the absent one.
His plumage bright as any bird
Of which you ever read or heard,
'Tis neither black, nor blue, nor red,
But yellow all from tail to head.
His cage upon a nail hangs firm,
Where in my room he's always warm.
He sings most sweetly when I play
Upon my seraphine by day.
He seems more lively when I'm there,
Than when I'm absent anywhere.
He seems to know when I come in,
And seems to say, " Where have you
been?"
He seems sometimes quite in a rage
When things come near his little cage.
His little eyes are black and bright,
He sees most quickly every sight.
He's never idle, like some boys
Who think of little else than toys,
But is a pattern thus for all
That dwell upon this earthly ball.
Sweet little bird, he has no bed,
But when he sleeps he hides his head ;
And thus he sleeps till morning light
Lhspels the darkness of the night.
When morning comes, his head is drest,
His feathers smooth'd upon his breast ;
Begins his daily task anew,
And hops and sings both good and true.
But better, happier far are they,
Who hop about from spray to spray,
" Uncaged and free," to build their nest
In tree or bush, as they like best.
Yours, GKANDPA.
174
UNCLE HIRAM 8 PILGRIMAGE.
UNCLE HIRAM'S PILGRIMAGE
ROSSING over to the
[ west side of Broadway,
on leaving the Park, I
re-commenced my pil-
grimage. The street was very
different, in some respects,
S 7 from what you would find it if
you should go there now. Many of
the old buildings have been taken
down, and new ones erected in their
places. Pausing at the corner of
Park Place, for instance, which is the
second street from the Astor House, I
had a very pleasant and refreshing
view of the grounds and buildings of
Columbia College, which are now dis-
placed by a bustling street, and tall,
bare marble or stone stores. This Col-
lege was founded somewhat more
than a century ago, and here have been
educated many of the great men who
have adorned the history of our coun-
try. The site which, when first occu-
pied, was quite out of town, has been,
for more than a quarter of a century,
a sort of oasis in -a wilderness of brick
and mortar. Commerce crowded so
hard upon it, that it not only ceased
to be a suitable place for quiet study,
but became too valuable to be held for
such a purpose. So the inexorable
street went through ; the College and
the " College Green" disappeared, and
Mammon piled up in their places his
palaces of trade.
As I looked down upon the spot, of
which I had often heard, I recalled
some incidents connected with the
early history of the College, which
had interested me much, as I heard
them from the lips of one who wit-
nessed and took part in them. The
time was a few years after the Revo-
lution, and embraced the period of the
formation of our present government,
and the inauguration of General Wash-
ington as its first President.
The characters were Washington,
Adams, Jefferson, Knox, Morris, Mar-
shall, Jay, Hamilton, Burr, John Ran-
dolph, of Roanoke, and many others
of the same circle. They seemed, as
by magic, to come up and pass before
me. I had, as it were, known them as
they looked and acted and talked on
this spot. Their mental photographs
had been taken for me, by my friend,
and I had them here before me. I
talked with them, and sought to pro-
tract their visit. But the vision soon
passed. The place, the people, the
customs were so changed, they did not
feel at home. They looked sorrow-
fully on the extravagance and luxury
of the times, and seemed to feel that
all their labors and sacrifices would,
after all, prove fruitless of any per-
manent good.
Elsie. Why, Uncle, you must have
fallen asleep in the street, to have had
such a dream as that !
No, no, my dear child. Nothing so
"quick as thought." All this and
more passed through my mind in the
twinkling of an eye, conjured up by
the simple association of the " College
Green," with the stories I had heard
from my old Dutch friend. There
are waking as well as sleeping dreams,
you know, and visions of things never
THE PLOUGHMAN. COME UNTO ME.
175
seen or even visible. I did pause at
the corner of the street. Very prob-
ably I put on a very grave face, as
these thoughts came rushing upon me ;
but I kept my eyes open, and my
mind busy, and was very soon on my
way again up Broadway, and in very
different company from that I had
called around me at the corner.
Frank. Did you ever see any of the
great men of your day-dream ?
Of those whom I have mentioned,
I have seen only one, and that the
very one whom I should least care to
see Aaron Burr. He was a man to
be despised for his character for ex-
alted talents prostituted to low and base
ends and to be feared and shunned
for an influence as malignant as it was
irresistible. He always appears to me,
standing as he did in the midst of that
constellation of great and good names,
like another Lucifer among the morn-
ing stars. There have been many
traitors, like Arnold, but few incar-
nate demons, like Burr. His example
should be a beacon to warn all young
men that the way of virtue is the only
way to honor, and that the sure way
to gain and keep the respect of others
is* to respect themselves. This Burr
never could have done. Born with
the highest intellectual endowments,
thrown into the society of the noblest
and best race of men the world ever
saw, with everything around and be-
fore him that could excite the loftiest
ambition, he seems to have regarded
himself as only the creature of passion
born to indulge, and not to aspire.
Frank. Did he not aspire to polit-
ical honor and power ?
Yes; and he might have attained
it, if he had sought it openly and hon-
orably. But, in that, as in everything
else, he preferred the wrong to the
right, the crooked to the straight.
. ~ -
_> ~-;~'~ ~~-:&--~rj' v \<i 's f*V
-.-
THE PLOUGHMAN.
TURN up the generous soil
'Tis rich in hidden wealth,
And well repays your earnest toil,
With plenty, peace, and health.
Plough with a bold, strong hand
Drive deep the glittering share;
No surface-scratching will command
Earth's treasures rich and rare.
Then, if you'd freely reap,
With bounteous freedom sow
And, while you wake, and while you
sleep,
The precious grain will grow.
COME UNTO ME Matt, xxviii.
COME unto me, ye that have wandered
Far from the fold of God ;
Ye that your precious time have
squandered,
Tread you the heavenly road
That leads to realms of glory bright,
Where cloudless day dispels the night.
Come unto me, ye heavy laden,
By sin and care opprest ;
To every one ! the youth, the maiden,
Come, to your souls find rest !
In heaven are many mansions fair
I have prepared, that you may share.
1Y8
A TEMPERANCE MEETING.
Drink as much as you will, good
friends, and true,
For nothing it costs, you see,
And in these hard times it is best to
An economical spree. [have
So a spree we will have, and a jolly
one too,
And none the worse shall we be
To-morrow, for having joined to-night
In a real red apple spree.
THE APPLE BEE.
Come, let us gather round the barrel,
And have a right good time
The head is out, and none will fare ill
"Who relish what is prime.
Here are all sorts sour, tart, and sweet,
Which Temperance, our provider,
Thinks quite as good as bread or meat,
And better far than cider.
Our wine is from the deep, deep cup,
Down near the heart of earth ;
It never burns the spirit up,
And never poisons mirth.
Our spirits are from Nature's still,
From vintages of Eden,
Spirits of love and pure good- will,
Which mischiefs never breed in.
Come, then, come, one and all, and here
The Temperance question grapple,
And prove that we have right good
Upon a simple apple. [cheer
A barrel of fine large red apples
was now introduced, with a liberal
supply of nuts and raisins, when Mas-
ter Grenville Fales, one of the younger
members, and one of the Merry family,
by way of invitation to the feast, re-
cited the following lines :
We have met here, to-night, as a
Temperance band,
Pledged, heart unto heart, and hand
unto hand,
In a high and holy cause ;
We are bound to each other by cords
of "Zenx?,"
And pledged, by "Purity," ever to
Our " Fidelity' 1 ' 1 to our laws, [prove
We are pledged to abstinence, total
tee-total, [bottle
Forever and aye, from decanter and
From all that excite or inflame ;
Yet we claim, of the real, good genuine
stuff;
To have always the right sort, and al-
ways enough, [name.
For we go for the thing, not the
We are not so bigoted, please under-
stand,
As to slight the good things Nature
brings to our hand,
We live, sirs, by eating and drinking ;
We go in for luxuries, too, and the best
For the cream that is drawn from
earth's bounteous breast, [ing.
Which is nectar, indeed, to our think-
But we go for the substance no
spirit withdrawn
Take our wine in fresh grapes, and
our whisky in corn
And gin, if need be, in rye
We repudiate extracts we hold to the
staples; . [apples,
We take perry in pears, and cider in
And nothing from still or sty.
Come, then, to our barrel we have
knocked in the head ; [spread,
Our nuts and our raisins free gratis are
And of genuine sorts, as you'll find;
Oh ! come to our Order enlist in our
band, [right hand,
Come, give to our pledges the cordial
Backed up by the heart and the
^ mind.
While everybody was busy and
talkative over the apples, Mr. Stearns
read the following:
THE BEST LIQUOR.
179
We have thrown down the apple
among you now, [allow,
Not the " apple of discord.," as all will
But the apple of accord though some
may say [way
Not a cord of apples, by a good long
Nor of apples all cored, but a barrel
with heads
Full of rich, ripe, rare, round, rosy reds.
Well, be it so then, and we will claim
'Tis the apple of e<mcord, and prove
the same
By any con-cord-ance you'll fetch along ;
A concord so genuine, so genial, so
strong,
It has conquered us all and converted
each one
To be either a Sister, or else a true Son.
Of the fun and the fare that fol-
lowed, I need not say much. It filled
up the evening, to the brim ; and satis-
fied every one who was there, that wine
is in no way necessary to make a toast
go down, or to give life, spirit, and
point to a social entertainment.
From the Regular Toasts I select a
few, by way of showing up the variety
and spice of the entertainment.
Our Sister Divisions of Brooklyn
We give the right hand which, when
they grapple,
They will find within a ripe red apple
Emblem of Union sound to the core,
We're glad to see some here, and wish
there were more.
The Medical Profession
No two crafts are more at war,
By every principle of law,
Than he who claims to be a healer,
With that of fire and liquor dealer.
Woman
Wben woman had her way at first,
We must admit t'was for the worst,
But now, let woman have her way,
And it is better and better every day.
THE BEST LIQUOR.
TN the announcement of a great pub-
-*- lie meeting in the open air, letter liq-
uor than usual was promised. When
the people were assembled, a rowdy
cried out : " Where is that better liq-
uor ?" "There," replied the princi-
pal speaker, pointing to a bubbling
spring, "there is the liquor which God
brews for all his children. Not in the
simmering still, over smoky fires,
choked with poisonous gases, does our
Father in heaven prepare the precious
essence of life pure, cold water ; but
in the green and grassy dell, where the
red-deer wanders and the child loves
to play, there God brews it ; and down,
down in the deepest valleys, where the
fountains murmur and the rills sing;
and high up the tall mountain-tops,
where naked granite glitters in the
sun, where the storm-cloud broods;
and away, far out on the wild, wild
sea there He brews it, that beverage
of life, health-giving water. And
everywhere is it a thing of beauty
gleaming in the dew-drops, shining in
the gem, till the trees all seem to turn
to living jewels spreading a golden
veil over the sun, or a white gauze
around the midnight moon sporting
in the cataracts, dancing in the hail-
showers, folding its bright snow-cur-
tain softly about the wintry world, and
weaving the many-colored iris of the
sky, whose roof is the sunbeam of
heaven, all checkered over with the
celestial flowers by the mystic hand of
refraction. Still always it is beautiful
that blessed life- water. No poison
bubbles on its brink ; its taste breeds
not madness and murder; no blood
stains its limpid flow; pale widows
and orphans weep not burning tears
in its depth ; and no drunkard's shriek-
ing ghost from the grave curses it in
words of eternal despair!"
180
'JUST ONE MINUTE.
A LITTLE TOO LATE.
JUST ONE MINUTE."
A H ! that is it said Uncle Tom, with
** vehemence, as if he were almost
angry that is it. " Just one minute ! "
when on that one minute may hang the
fate of a man, a family, or a nation.
" Just one minute" has spoiled many a
fortune, and lost many a life. There
was my neighbor, old Job Shortly, who
was always "just one minute" behind,
in everything. He was always grum-
bling because his dinner was cold, but
never heeded the ringing of the bell.
He never found anything fit to eat at
breakfast, because, by his own fault,
he had only what others had left. He
generally lost a day, and sometimes a
week, on every letter he mailed, be-
cause he never reached the office till
after the mail was closed.
The habit had grown up with him
from his boyhood. It used to be said
of him at school, that if, by any acci-
dent, he was present at the opening of
the school, the teacher would immedi-
ately set his clock ahead, satisfied that
the error was there, and not in Job.
This habit of being always behind
time was frequently rather expensive
to the poor man. He lost several good
bargains by it. He often had his notes
protested when he had money in pocket
to pay them, because he was "just one
minute" too late. He often had to
wait fifteen minutes for the ferry-boat,
or an hour for the car, because he was
"just one minute" too late for the one
or the other. One- incident of this
kind, which happened to him in middle
life, if it had occurred in his youthful
days, might have proved a sufficient
lesson, and made a different man of
him. By it he lost forever a very
comfortable fortune.
An aged uncle, who had recently
returned from South America, where
he had resided many years, and accu-
mulated a large fortune, sent for Job
to meet him on a certain day in the
city. He charged him to be very
punctual, as he should leave at a cer-
tain hour, and not return for several
weeks. Job expected great things
JUNE. THE VIOLET.
181
from his uncle, as he bore his name,
and had received some valuable pre-
sents from him. He resolved, for
once, to he ready early, and prepared
to start before the time. The stage
was as regular as the clock. It passed
Job's house precisely at one o'clock
every day. Job was in a slow fever
all the morning so slow, that he did
nothing but wish it was one o'clock,
while his patient wife made ready his
valise and bags. At half-past twelve
he sat down to dinner, which had been
ready at twelve. At one o'clock, after
he had been urged and entreated a
dozen times to put on his hat, and be
ready at the door, he was still deep in
the mysteries of his last dish of pud-
ding, ever and anon ejaculating, "Just
one minute!" At length the stage
dashed by. Job's wife screamed
Job's man screamed ; but where was
Job ? He bustled up, seized his valise
and his bags, his cane and his um-
brella, and rushed out. He ran as fast
as his lumpy limbs would allow he
screamed he bellowed he swore
he lost his hat; but all in vain. The
stage-driver could not hear ; and if he
had heard, his rules were so rigid, and
his time so exact, that he would not
have dared to stop.
Poor Job ! he went the next day to
the city; but his uncle had left, so
much vexed with this inveterate habit
of delay, that he struck Job's name
from his will, and left his entire estate
to another, instead of giving half, as he
had intended, to Job. The uncle died
soon after too soon to forget his vex-
ation, or restore Job to his good-will.
Remember that, boys, and never
allow yourselves to say, "Time enough
yet," or, "Just one minute." If you
must have the one minute, let it be
one minute 'before the time, and never
after.
JUNE.
'Tis a truth that earnest students,
With books and nature who com-
mune,
Are in thought and feeling quickened
By the skies and breath of June.
"While in boyhood, what could match it ?
Schoolmates call so opportune ;
" Come with me and range the forest
Recreate, this day of June."
Sister-schoolmates, gathering posies,
Stop to hear the red-breast's tune,
And laugh at pretty squirrels running
Up the trees, in leafy June.
After-life, for prizes striving,
The student toils for lengthened
Spirit (so success) is wafted [rune
To him by the breath of June.
Month of months let's sing its praises!
MusEUM-readers, join the tune
The freshest leaves, the brightest
flowers,
All are thine, sweet month of June.
LAURA ELMER.
THE VIOLET.
AND such, methought, while bending
to the stem, [gem ;
Is modest virtue's pure and simple
N"o ostentatious wish to seek for praise,
But still retiring from the public gaze
It spreads its sweet beneficence around,
And, by the fame it shuns, can but be
found.
SYMPATHY. A little girl, about four
years old, standing at the window of
her aunt's comfortable parlor, saw
several beggar-girls passing along, with
baskets on their heads, and their feet
and legs bare, in the midst of the
storm of rain and sleet. " Oh ! poor
little girls," she cried, "they have no
hoops in their skirts."
182
SPRING FASHIONS FOE 1858 IN-DOOES AND OUT.
SPRING FASHIONS FOE 1858 IN-DOORS AND OUT.
never look
at the Maga-
zine fashion
plates, for we
not much of an en-
tomologist ; the coup
(Pail of a white taffeta
Darro if we haven't
posed some, even of our
lady readers, with that new name for
a mantilla, then there's nothing in a
name, after all. We found it in "Go-
dey" for March, where there are as
many " views" of the bit of vanity as
if it were the Cataract of Niagara.
Well, to take breath and begin again :
the coup cfo&il of a white taffeta Darro
does not strike us yet like a coup de
soleil. We do not take to embroidery^
and a six-flounced rose-colored silk,
with sleeves as full of "puffs" as a
Graefenburg almanac, does not impress
us as positively angelic.
And yet, despite all this lack of
taste and ignorance of mantua-making,
we are by no means indifferent to the
fashions; not, perhaps, going into
ecstasies over a new nothing of a hat,
like a tulipomaniac over a Dutch bulb,
but then enough of an enthusiast to de-
vote this column to the SPRING FASH-
IONS FOB 1858 IN-DOORS AND OUT.
Blue velvet will be the favorite style
for all hours, morning and evening,
among the Violets. Green, though
of an infinite variety of shades, will
prevail among the Forests.
The Poplar, hitherto so distinguished
for its suit of silver, intimates no in-
tention of a change, and we may ex-
pect to see it glittering as ever among
the more sober tintings of the woods.
Lilies, it is believed, will continue
to wear plain white, and Sweet Wil-
liams to dress in red, while silk will be
very much worn by the Corn, and un-
bleached linen, with blue trimmings,
by the Flax a very cool and becom-
ing costume for summer days.
Evening Clouds will persist in their
usual varied and somewhat capricious
styles, wearing everything, from a
white " all wool" to an inky black ;
but brocade, crimson and gold, will
prevail, especially at the Court of the
Sun; and attendants at his matinees
will appear in delicate pink or pearl.
Tiie Sparrow family can not be in-
duced to lay off their sober brown.
Robins will wear faded red waistcoats,
as last year ; and Ground Squirrels will
dash about, one season more, in striped
jackets. Goldfinches will affect yel-
low, like so many Austrians ; the
Wood Eobin will come out in scarlet ;
plumes and blue will be the rage among
the Jays plumes and green among
the Pines. The Blackbirds will wear
their black uniforms and red epaulets
as they did last year ; and the Crow
family are not yet out of mourning.
We should not wonder if the Ban-
tams came out in pantalettes; and
everybody knows that the Martins are
always out in black satin.
The Bobolinks will lay aside their
SPRING FASHIONS FOB 1858 IN-DOORS AND OUT.
183
yellow winter suits for the motley
summer wear they delight in ; the
Whippoorwill will continue in half
mourning ; and Sand-hill Cranes dance
about in their heath-colored kilts, as
hald-headed as ever.
Blue surtouts will prevail among
the Pigeons, the Prairie Chickens will
go a-courting in <(heir buff-trimmed
head-dresses, and the Snipes will doff
their white "Marseilles."
Earth will come out like a wood-
nymph this Spring, in a delicate green
skirt, embroidered with flowers. In
midsummer she will dress like a queen,
in cloth of gold, richly wrought ; and
the Fall style will be gorgeous as a
year of sunsets, varying with russet
and dun and sober gray.
The Wheat Fields will be arrayed
in drab corduroy, the Meadows will
grow soberer in something like a
brown, and the Clouds will go about
in the garb of gray friars.
Finally, Earth will assume the robe
of a white nun ; and thus the vanities
and fashions of the year will come to
an end. But they will all be carefully
laid away in the wardrobes and closets
of Nature some in cases russet and
rude, where you would least expect to
find them ; some tied up in gray bun-
dles ; and some in the roughest trunks
ever seen trunks with the baric on.
We have said nothing about the
jewelry ; but there will be an abund-
ance of that. Not so much, perhaps,
in the summer, if we except the little
pearls that June puts on in the morn-
ing ; for Nature has an exquisite taste
of her own, and knows that glittering
brilliants are not becoming to the gay
and parti-colored apparel of summer.
You never see any of her family
blazing in red vests, like a baker's
oven, or laden with as many chains, as
if they had somehow escaped a gibbet.
You never see them walking about
with all Golconda upon their breasts,
and a placer or two in their ears.
She waits until the rainbow days
are over, and then, arrayed in pure
white, with a snowdrop or two in her
hair, she brings out her gems. Dia-
monds glitter in a bright morning,
upon the meekest little trees in the
world, that never wear, at other times,
anything braver than green, or grander
than cherry rubies. The fields ex-
change their faded gray for silver
tissue, and the leafless twigs are set in
silver, diamonds, and pearl.
In the great social masquerade, the
domino of smiles will continue to be
worn, as it affords complete protection
against recognition. ^Eolian tones
with daggers in them are not yet out
of fashion, and scabbards highly orna-
mented with words gracefully conceal
the sharpest of blades.
A very delicate style of gossip will
be much in vogue a gossamer fabric
highly ornamented, and something like
the ladies' bonnets, that can be worn
both at home and abroad. Mrs. Os-
good, a very sweet singer, who was
sent for, one month of May, to sing in
the choir above, and went, tells of a
humming-bird that was killed in the
cup of a flower, by the report of a gun
in the sportsman's hand. There is a
great deal worth thinking of in that
fanciful conceit. If it is not true of
humming-birds in flower-cups, it is
eminently so of humanity in society.
The costume of Friendship will con-
tinue to be very plain the real old
English fabric of durable material,
no ornament, and fast colors that
will be associated in thought with all
that is pleasant in the past, when not
a shred of Fashion's broidered array
remains to tell the story of her tri-
umphs. Chicago Journal.
184
THE HERONS AND THE HERRINGS.
THE HERONS AND THE HERRINGS,
A FABLE BY FRANCIS C. WOODWORTH.
A HEKON once came I can scarcely
tell why [fishes,
To the court of his cousins, the
With dispatches so heavy he scarcely
could fly, [wishes.
And his bosom brimfull of good
He wished the poor Herrings no evil,
he said,
Though there seemed to be cause
for suspicion ;
His government wished to convert
them, instead;
And this was the end of his mission ;
The Herrings replied, and were civil
enough,
Though a little inclined to be witty :
" We know we are heathenish, savage,
and rough, [pity ;
And are greatly obliged for your
" But your plan of conversion we beg
to decline,
With all due respect for your nation ;
No doubt it would tend to exalt and
refine, [ration."
Yet we fear it would check respi-
The Heron returned to his peers in
disdain,
And told how their love was re-
quited.
"Poor creatures!" they said, "shall
we let them remain
So ignorant, blind, and benighted ?"
Then soon on a crusade of love and
good-will
The Herons in council decided ;
And they sent their brave warriors,
with fierce-looking bill,
To the beach where the Herrings
resided. [ocean to air,
So the tribe were soon converts from
Though liking not much the diver-
sion, [to prepare
And wishing, at least, they had time
For so novel a mode of conversion.
A person of sense will discover with
ease
The point of the tale I've related
A blockhead could not, let me say
what I please
Then why need my MOKAL be stated?
GOETHE HIS BIRTH-PLACE, THE QUESTION ANSWERED. 185
GOETHE HIS BIRTH-PLACE.
T^RAJSTKFORT is a very old city. It
was founded by Charlemagne. It
contains many quaint old buildings,
where discoveries are often made of
secret chambers and staircases, such
as we read of in old novels as the
favorite haunts of ghosts and assassins.
It would no doubt please our young
readers to examine some of these old
buildings, and gaze at the time-hon-
ored temples of Frankfort. Goethe
was born here. A magnificent statue
of him, modeled by the sculptor
Schavanthaler, at Munich, cast in
bronze, was received with much cere-
mony, and erected in the open square
designed for it. All the time that the
men were at work upon it, it was
covered with a veil. It was a great
day when that noble statue was un-
veiled to the gazing multitude. The
square was filled with people. The
procession of citizens came with mu-
sic and banners ; a song for the occa-
sion was sung by the choir, and re-
sounded through the city. After a
poetical address, four young men took
their stand at the corners of the mon-
ument, the drums and trumpets flour-
ished, the people shouted as with the
voice of thunder, and the veil fell.
The noble figure of Goethe seemed to
rise out of the earth, like the chief of
the genii of ancient fable. He is rep-
resented as leaning on the trunk of a
tree, holding in his right hand a roll
of parchment, and in his left a wreath.
His name is cherished in Germany, as
that of Shakspeare in England and
America.
The greater part of the city of Frank-
fort is built in the old German style.
The houses are six or seven stories
high, each story projecting out over
the one below it, so that those living
in the upper part can almost shake
hands out of their windows. At the
corners, figures of men are often seen,
holding up the story above on their
shoulders, and making horrible faces
at the weight by which they seem
about to be crushed. The country-
women, in their jackets and short
gowns, go about with great loads on
their heads, sometimes as high as them-
selves. On both sides the street sit
the market-women, with their baskets
of vegetables and fruit. They are
there from sunrise to sunset, day after
day, for years, examples of German
patience and German frugality.
THE QUESTION ANSWERED.
AT the close of a lecture on physi-
ology, the lecturer remarked that any
one was at liberty to ask questions. A
young lady proposed the following :
"If one hen lays an egg, and an-
other sets on it and hatches out a
chicken, which hen is the mother of
the chicken ?"
The lecturer said, " I will answer
you in Yankee style, by asking you a
question. If a little, pretty, white,
genteel, native pullet sets on an egg of
Oriental extraction, and hatches a
great, homely, long-legged, splinter-
shanked, slab-sided, awkward-gaited
Shanghae, would you, if you were that
little white pullet, own the great,
homely monster ?"
"jVo," said the young lady, "7
wouldnt /"
" Very well," said the lecturer,
" that settles the question, for it is a
principle in physiology, that all hens
think and act alike, in all essential
particulars."
186
MERRY 8 MONTHLY CHAT 'WITH HIS FRIENDS.
Itan s
HERE we are, in " the leafy month of
June" the flowery month, the bird-
singing month the month of early fruits,
and of all sweet, fresh, balmy influences,
the first of the summer and the very
heart of the year. And here, too, in our
little snug parlor, we sit down, not only
to the luxuries of the year, but to a table
of talk ; a feast of reason and love. Our
Southern cousins have the start in the
matter of strawberries and green peas ;
but our Northern cousins are good for
ice-cream and lemonade. If Virginia
boasts of her oysters, and Texas of her
venison, Ohio may brag on her hams,
and Maine on her salmon. And so we
will all put in a share to make up the
general festival. But but our cook
says we are getting extravagant on
spices. We season our dishes too highly
we are too fond of the sauce piquante,
and do you hear, Nip, Bess, Willie,
Dodt, and all the rest the Doctor rec-
ommends a plainer and more substantial
diet. As this is the season for Pic-nics,
let us see if we can not improve in this
respect, and lay out a table of all that is
fresh, sweet, natural, and wholesome,
from which we shall get strength as well
as pleasure, and which we shall relish in
remembrance, as well as in participation.
Let us drop personalities, and go in for a
Chat that shall be genial, social, cousinly,
cordial witty without sharpness, and
wise without dullness.
April 13, 1858.
To ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN :
I have been building air-castles all
winter, since I first read " An Evening
with the Buried Cities," printed so con
spicuously on the cover of our magazine.
I have been indulging in all sorts of
dreams about it, and have even been in-
sane enough to imagine that some chari-
table wind might possibly blow Uncle
Frank this way on his Western tour.
Since I have found that there isn't a
loop-hole left on which to hang my an-
ticipations, I have philosophized a little ;
toit([
have concluded that what must be, must
be, and it's of no use for me to scold,
therefore I tender Uncle Frank my warm-
est sympathy in his illness (if he has not
yet recovered), and remain, disappoint-
edly, CLIO.
Uncle Frank is, happily, at home, and
somewhat improved in health. Let him
have not the sympathy only, but the
prayers of those he has loved and served
so well. It is a great comfort to know
that he has a warm place in so many
kind hearts.
MAPLE GROVE, April.
DEAR MERRYS ALL : I have just re-
turned from a visit to the country, and
find my monthly guest has arrived be-
fore me. I welcome it gladly, and in
looking hastily over its contents find that
while merely begging permission to oc-
casionally make one in your merry
gatherings, I have been elevated to a
seat by Aunt Sue. It is an uuthought-
of honor on my part. I hope that my
head may not be' turned by it. May I
bear the honors blushingly ! and may
future acquaintance prove me worthy to
sit under the shadow of Aunt Sue's wing !
I would join with the many pens and
voices that are speaking now, to assure
Uncle Frank of my unbounded sympathy,
and my hope that he will soon be able to
rejoin the " loved ones at home." I re-
main, as ever, COUSIN KATE.
Thank you, Kate, for your sympathy,
and may you always have the same from
every heart around you.
E. W. HILL, March, 1858.
How do you do, good friends ? Shake
hands delighted to see you ! It seems
a long time since I have seen you, al-
though no one appears to have missed
me. Now, dear, kind Uncles! I will tell
you what I am doing. Not studying, 1
am enjoying^-or trying to that most
delightful of all delightful things a va-
cation. But, entre nous when all the
family are away, and academicians, the-
ologians, inhabitants, and all, have flock-
ed off to the four winds, I am forced to
exclaim, with a realizing sense of truth,
" Oh, solitude ! where are thy charms ?"
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
187
And then I like study. Old Homer
and I (I trust I am not disrespectful) are
excellent friends.
I am full of joy to have the cold
weather gone, and even now I can see
the grass just beginning or is it im-
agination? to take a delicate hue of
green. And the air is so soft, and the
sunlight so golden, and everything so
beautiful, that in my universal benevo-
lence I wish all the Merry family were in
the country to enjoy it.
If I may presume to express my opinion
frankly, it strikes me as rather incon-
sistent that, while Mr. Coleman so val-
iantly defends his beloved Hartford, he
yet finds it so unendurable that he can
not remain there more than " one month
out of the twelve." May I be enlight-
ened ?
But there are all the Uncles looking
sharp at me. Oh, I remember ! " Short
and sweet." That is a " poor rule," for
it certainly does not " work both ways."
However. 1 am resigned to annihilation
only please deliver my messages.
Affectionately your niece,
BLUE-EYED MINNIE.
Thanks, Minnie, not only for your
letter, but still more for coming yourself
to bring it.
LINDEN DALE, March 25, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE : One of the greatest
treasures I have in the world is a com-
plete set of MERRY'S MUSEUM now
seventeen volumes for I have just re-
ceived the volume for 1857. The later
volumes I love very much, for I re-
member how much they pleased me as
they came along every month. But the
older ones are a peculiar treasure. Some
of them were published before I was
born, and are full of what our venerable
old Uncle, Peter Parley, used to do and
say. God bless him ! and all of you ! I
wish all the 20,000 cousins had this
whole set. How they would value it !
Please give my love to them all. 1 hope
they won't envy me. When any of them
come to see me they shall have the
freedom of my library. Love to all of
them, not forgetting Aunt Sue.
Your affectionate niece,
LUCY L. M.
You are not " alone in your glory,"
Lucy. Quite a number of the cousins
are as rich as you, and the number is in-
creasing. Besides, many of the school
libraries in New York, Michigan, and
other States, have full sets, which those
who can not afford to buy for themselves
may use freely ; and we are very happy
to know that they are very highly valued.
This hearty commendation of our work is
a great encouragement to us to make
yet more and higher efforts to improve.
SOUTH BOSTON, March 1, 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY : This is the first
time I have ever ventured to write to you.
Perhaps you will think me presumptuous ;
but I hope not. This is the first year I
have taken the " MUSEUM," but I like it
very much. I like the " Chat" and the
" Questions" very well, and hope you will
admit me to the former. I wish you would
have more illustrated rebuses. We have
at our home a little paper published,
called the " Home Casket." It is now to
be published monthly, for it has hereto-
fore been weekly. We have one column
of " Guess-work ," which affords us a great
deal of pleasure in finding out the differ-
ent queries. But I must now bid you
good-bye. Love to all. Yours truly,
OLIVER ONLEY.
There you are, Oliver, as large as life.
But, pray, are you the only " Oliver"
in South Boston, or are you " Oliver"
only, without a surname.
ST. CLAIRSVILLE, April 15, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE Hi. : Thanks to Mrs.
Black-Eyes' introduction. I am in, and
there is no backing out. Well, you seem
to have quite a room full. How do you
manage to get so many in at once ? If all
are as hard to keep in order as Mrs.
Black-Eyes, you must have a hard time
of it. You wish me to keep her in
order ? Why rot bid me make " the
wild waves their lawless rage restrain."
I want to ask you ope more question, and
then I will make my exit. Where did
" Fleta Forrester" get such " awful big"
words? Out of "Old Yale?" The
words are unabridged, therefore they
must have ". corned out" of an unabridged
dictionary; they "never wasn't" original.
Here I go. Good-bye. MARIA.
Rather personal, Maria, for a new-
comer. I am afraid I shall have to set
Mrs. Black- Eyes to look after you.
H. H.
188
MEEJRY 8 MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
CURIOSITIES FROM " IKE."
A farthing splinter from the Penny
Post.
A key for the fet-lock of a horse.
A birth-day gift for the mother of
pearl.
A curb for a bit of bread.
A bone from the elbow of a stove-pipe.
A cap for a head of cabbage.
A whetstone for the shoulder-blade.
A suit of clothes for a body of divinity.
A new string for the city beau (bow).
Pantaloons for the legs of a triangle.
A fragment from the tablet of fame.
FROM " BUNKER HILL."
A fragment of the curtain of night.
A feather from the wings of the wind.
The mane of a clothes' horse.
The shell of a " hard nut."
A piece of the root of all evil.
SELMA, ALA., April 13, 1858.
DEAR UNCLKS, AUNTS, AND ALL MY
COUSINS : I have wished for a word in
your merry Chat for some time, but had
not paid my dollar, so I had no business
there. Last night it came (it was earned
at Christmas), so Eddie is himself again.
Will Uncle Merry kindly introduce me
to the new Uncle Frank, and all the
cousins he brought with him ?
We are to have several ice-cream and
strawberry suppers to assist in building
churches, etc. How I wish you all could
be here the last of this month and first
of next, to attend them. Surely, then,
there would be a frank and merry time
in our beautiful city. But I hear your
4< Short, shorter," so good-bye.
EDDIE.
We have the flavor of those straw-
berries now in our palate, Eddie, and
thank you for your invitation to the
feast. When we passed Selma, about
eight years ago, on our way to New Or-
leans, we were up late to some friends
landed there. So, you see, we know just
where you are, and how you look, and
feel quite at home at your feast.
PORT ROWAN, CANADA WEST,
April 20, 1858.
HIRAM HATCHET: Do you think a
subject of Queen Victoria would be ad-
mitted into the circle ? I have been a
constant reader of the MUSEUM ever
since I can remember, which is six or
seven years. You have so many hatchets,
carving-knives, daggers, and other deadly
weapons, should they all be turned against
me, I should be annihilated. Trusting
you will not be in a bellicose humor, I
make my bow and ask admittance ; and
if kindly received you may hear from me
again. JOHN KILLMASTER, Canada.
We have never yet been in so " belli-
cose a humor" as to incline to " kill
master." But we have now a decided
inclination to " John," who, it seems, is
not only " bellicose" (Killmaster), but
" Bullicose" a genuine John Bull.
SAN JOSE, March 17, 1858.
MY DHAREST UNCLE FRA\K: I sup-
pose when this scrawl, " in the course
of human events," comes to light, you
will look perplexed, and wonder who
this Californian is who actually calls
you " dear," although she does not even
take your little Magazine. Well, if I
do not, I see and read every number of
it ; and some day you and your happy
troup will be introduced to one who, tor
the love of her own golden State, takes
the name of CALIFORNIA.
MIDDLETOWN, April 13, 1858.
DEAR MR. MERRY: The coldness of
" Tennessean" has made me rather chilly,
but " Fleta F." brings back the pleasant
warmth, as she " dishes him up clean."
I have to speak against " old maids"
entering the circle, unless they behave
themselves as we young ones do. Tell
" Bess" to come to my corner of the
circle, if she can find any. So I'll " make
tracks." Lovingly, JUSTITIA.
NEW YORK, April 12, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE : I write, hoping that
you will receive me as one of your neph-
ews. If so. please give my love to all the
cousins, uncles, and to Aunt Sue.
W. F. WEST.
DUBUQUE, April 5, 1858.
DEAR UNCLE : I received your Maga-
zine to-day. I am much interested in
the story of Pukkwana, because that
little boy was about my age. I think I
saw something in your Magazine, two or
three years ago, about Shanghaes, which
I thought a slander, and have long been
wanting to say something in their favor.
I have a large rooster. While the hen is
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
189
laying he stands by the nest, and when
she comes off he cackles, to save her the
trouble of doing it. When I set a hen,
he brings her something to eat ; and
when the chickens are hatched, he takes
care of them and broods them, so that in
a week or two the hen goes to laying
again. I think Fanny Fern would say
he was a model husband and father. I
Lave a hen that always lays an egg with
two yolks.
I hope you will come some day and see
my chickens and our beautiful city.
Your affectionate nephew,
WILLIE PHELPS.
A model husband, indeed, Willie. We
\rill certainly come and see him and you,
if we can get so near to sun-set.
We are indebted to Hon. Gideon J.
Tucker, Secretary of State of New York,
for a copy of the Census of the State.
In looking over its ocean of figures, we
find some things which we think may be
useful and interesting to our young
friends of the MUSEUM. Among other
things, it appears that, in 1855, when
this census was taken, there were in the
State 11,137 school -houses, the building
of which cost $5,310,446. The number
of children in the State between the ages
of 5 and 15 is 778,648. How many of
these attend the schools we are not in-
formed; but allowing an average of 61
to each school, there is room for every
one of them. It may safely be said,
therefore, that the means of education
are provided for every child in the State,
and that they who remain in ignorance
do it from choice or indifference, and not
from necessity.
We are quite sure that a large number,
of the Merry family are in these schools,
because so many of the libraries are
supplied with the entire set of the MU-
SEUM, which are used so much, as we
hear from various quarters, that it be-
comes necessary to renew them very often.
In reply to a question from H. C. B., we
take this opportunity to say, that the
MUSEUM set consists now of 17 volumes,
of 384 pages each, illustrated with more
than 2,000 engravings, and containing
the larger part of the best writings of
Peter Parley, who was for many years
its editor. These are substantially bound
in sheep, and are sold at $1 a volume.
Will any one explain the meaning of the
following ? We have made inquiries for
the " Ghost," but can not learn anything
of her. Uncle Hiram suspects that some-
body in New Orleans thinks him a fool,
and cordially reciprocates the sentiment.
SHIPPED, in good order
and well-conditioned,
by Giles Scroggins,
on board the ship call-
ed the Ghost, where-
of Sexton is Master,
now lying in the Port
of New Orleans, and
bound for Halifax, to say :
1 California Bathing Tub,
96 Baby Cradles with Patent Rockers,
1 Bottle of Pickled Elephants,
1 Case of Chum Chums.
Being marked and numbered as in
margin ; and are to be delivered in
like good order and condition at the
Port of New York (the dangers of
the navigation and fire only except-
ed) unto Hiram Hatchet, or to his
Assigns, he or they paying freight
for the said $20 per pound, with as
much primage and average accus-
tomed as you can get.
IN WITNESS WHEREOF, the mas-
ter and clerk of the said ship hath
affirmed to 83 Bills of Lading, all of
this tenor and date ; one of which
being accomplished, the other to
stand void.
Dated in New Orleans, the 1st day
of April, 1858. JOE SKIPPER.
We had about twenty more letters, in-
cluding those from " Bess," " W. H. C.,"
"Tema," "A. Older," "^ ^l^," and
others all ready to go to the printer
when, to our surprise and joy, Uncle
Frank's Table- Talk came in. We feared
he was too sick to attempt such a thing,
and fear now he may not have done right
to himself in doing it. But we are sure
the whole family will be glad to sit still,
for the sake of hearing once more the
loved familiar voice of Uncle Frank.
190
MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
UNCLE FRANK'S MONTHLY TABLE-TALK.
SICKNESS AND CONVALESCENCE.
Three months have passed since I have
had the pleasure of an old-fashioned
chat with my much-loved nephews and
nieces. I wonder if many of you have
missed me, and wished me back again.
I hope so. You don't know how sad it
would make me, if, somehow or other, I
should stumble upon the discovery that,
after all, I had not secured a very per-
manent place in your hearts, and that
you could let me leave with about as
little regret as the New York landlord
feels on the first of May, when one of his
tenants walks out and another walks in.
Be this as it may, however, I have often
thought of you during this long interval
of silence the longest that has ever
occurred, with the exception of seven
months spent in Europe, during thirteen
years. I have often thought of you ; and
the reason why I have not shown my
face in your happy party is, not because
I did not choose to be with you, but be-
cause I could not come. I have been ill
very ill. Uncle Hiram bless his kind
heart ! told you something of my sick-
ness in the April number, and how sorry
it made him feel. I had made up my
mind not to tell you anything about this
long confinement in a sick room; for I
would rather conduct my little friends
into sunshine than through clouds, when
I can do the one thing as well as the
other. But my good brother has said
enough to excite your fears, and I will
not allow myself to doubt that you would
like to hear a little more on the subject.
I left New York for Detroit just on the
eve of the last Christmas holidays. My
health was not remarkably good ; but I
hoped that change of place and traveling,
of which I am very fond, would be of
service to me. As I did not wish to be
idle while absent from home
" For Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do"
to say nothing of my instinctive dislike
of a life of systematic indolence I de-
termined to couple my health-hunting
with lecturing. So I prepared a lecture
on " Vesuvius and the Buried Cities,"
and had seven large paintings executed
to illustrate different scenes connected
with the volcano, Herculaneum, and
Pompeii. I delivered this lecture several
times in Michigan, and had every reason
to be satisfied with the manner in which
it was received. But I took a severe cold,
which soon nestled down in my lungs
one of Uncle Frank's weak spots as if
it was at home there, and I soon found
myself a helpless invalid. Three weeks I
was under the care of a physician in
Chicago. As soon as I was able to bear
the fatigue of the journey, and a little
sooner, as it appeared afterwards, I set
out for home. I reached Buffalo near
the close of February. The next day
after my arrival there I had a severe
attack of bleeding at the lungs, which
was repeated several times within three
weeks. Then my strength gave way
entirely, and I became as helpless as an
infant. For nearly two months I was
for the most part shut up in a sick room,
attended by a skillful physician, and
nursed by one of the most devoted and
self-sacrificing of sisters, who had, like
an angel of mercy, come to my relief as
soon as possible after the tidings of my
critical condition reached her. On the
14th of April I resumed my journey
eastward and homeward, in company
with my sister, stopping to rest at Syra-
cuse and Albany. On the 17th we reached
" Woodside," my country home on the
Hudson, where warm hearts were ready
to welcome us. The dear little birds had
just arrived from their winter pilgrim-
age ; and it seemed to me that they, too,
chirped a cordial greeting. I don't know
that the song of the robin and the blue-
bird ever sounded so sweet to me before.
My health has gradually improved since
my arrival, and I am now able to write a
MERRY 8 MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
191
little my physician says it must be a
very little, at present.
I must not forget to tell you how kind
my heavenly Father has been to me
throughout my illness. Though hun-
dreds of miles away from home, I have
not been allowed to feel the want of home
conveniences and comforts. Both at
Chicago and Buffalo I was surrounded
by the truest and best of friends. In
the latter place, I was in a family whose
friendship I have enjoyed for many
years, and who, while I was a sufferer
under their roof, exhibited a degree of
kindness and tenderness toward me which
could not have been excelled were I their
own brother. Other friends, too, vied
with each other in kind offices. Scarcely
a day passed that some nice thing, pre-
pared expressly for an invalid's palate,
or a bouquet of flowers, or some other
little memorial of friendship, was not
dispatched to my sick chamber. One lady
sent me a family of beautiful pink daisies
in full bloom. I named the plant my
" Picciola," after the flower which the
Count de Charney fell so deeply in love
with, and which was such a comfort to
him in his prison. I brought it home
with me ; and while I am writing it is
standing on the table before me, nodding
the most graceful of nods, and smiling
the most loving of smiles. The Lord be
praised for my friends ! This world, in
my estimation, would lose many of its
attractions, if they should ever desert me.
UP THE HUDSON.
Reader, did you know that the Hudson
is the most beautiful river on the face of
the earth ? It is my honest conviction
that such is the fact. True, I have not
seen all the rivers in the world ; but I
have seen the Rhine, which every traveler
so much bepraises, and so far as pic-
turesque beauty is concerned, I must
certainly give our noble Hudson the
preference. Nowhere on the Rhine is
the scenery so startling for its boldness,
or so charming for its quiet loveliness, as
can be found between Tarrytown Bay on
the south and the Highlands on the north.
Besides, the beauties of the Rhine are by
no means remarkable, except for a short
distance, while those of the Hudson ex-
tend more than a hundred miles. All
our river wants which its transatlantic
cousin possesses are the old and crum-
bling castles which deservedly render the
Rhine so famous ; but these attractions,
in my estimation, are more than counter-
balanced by what nature has done for
the shores of the Hudson. I am prompted
to say all this, which will sound a little
enthusiastic to some ears, from having
just made a trip up the Hudson by
water, all the way from New York to
Albany. It is the habit of most people
who have occasion to travel over this
route on business, to avail themselves
of the cars or of the night boats. But
no one traveling between New York and
Albany, for pleasure or health, should
fail to make the entire trip by daylight,
and in a steamer. Very little almost
nothing - of the beauties of the Hudson
can be enjoyed by rushing along its
banks in a railroad train at the rate of
thirty miles an hour. The Armenia, a
beautiful boat, every way adapted for
the convenience and comfort of travelers,
is now running on this route, and makes
the trip in some eight or nine hours,
stopping at several prominent places I
hope my friends who are disposed to be
skeptical as to my estimate of the charm-
ing scenery of the Hudson River will make
an excursion in this pleasant steamer, and
judge for themselves. That trip would do
more toward convincing them, I fancy,
than a dozen essays of mine.
TEAL LAKE AND BEAVERS 5 DAMS.
Those of you and I flatter myself the
number comprises very nearly the whole
of my army of nephews and nieces who
read my story about the Lake Superior
beavers, a month or two ago, will recol-
lect that these ingenious architects made
their dams across the outlet of a beauti-
ful little lake, reposing like a gem upon
the brow of the mountain, almost a thou-
192
MEKKY 8 MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
sand feet above the level of Lake Superior.
On the margin of this charming little
sheet of water, deeply embosomed in the
forest, is the summer residence of my
friend, Mr. James L. Reynolds, with
whose family I spent a week or more
very pleasantly. Now, the name of this
fairy lake our stereotyper, in the article
alluded to, persistently called Seal,
whereas it ought to be Teal, the name
of a species of duck, formerly abound-
ing in this region.
[ Here the Printer, in self-defense,
produced his " copy," and defied me to
say whether the T was more like T, S,
or L. I give it up, and hope, when Un-
cle Frank makes T(ea) again, he will
use the genuine article. H. H.]
Answers to Questions in April No.
46. Because they have fore (4) masts.
47. Berlin always on a Spree.
48. One sews what she gathers, the other
gathers what he sows.
49. Who foreknows his fate .'
50. He is always going to see.
51. M.D.=1500.
52. 1. Promenade. 2. Profligates. 3.
Cordials. 4. Perforate. 5. Magis-
trate. 6. Contrivances.
53. It is always in bed.
54. It is always in earnest.
55. It is a source of internal transport.
N. B. Substitute canal for candle,
and you will understand the an-
swer. (Printer's mistake )
56. For divers reasons.
57. For sun-dry reasons.
58. It is difficult to be pared (paired).
N. B. For " without" read " with-
ered." (Printer's mistake.)
59. It is in divisible.
60. V-iv-i-d.
61. Gin.
ANSWERS RECEIVED FROM :
Geo. B. T. Ella Geo. B. Higbee
L. N. Sallie Adelbert Older Mendon
Boy C. M. Gibbs Adrian Bess Susie
C. W. Pop. S. T. L. Marie Burn-
ham Ex-rNotas Oliver Onley.
Questions, Enigmas, Charades, etc.
79. What is more destructive than an
active worm ? Ike .
80. How can a ship's company always
have fresh eggs ? JV. D. W.
81. Why is a hen on a perch, or a fence,
like a cent ? JY. D. W.
82. What resemblance, or difference, be-
tween a cat and a document ? JY. D. W.
83. Be
Man meddling wife ? P. B.
P. B.
85. My first we oft lend to each other,
To borrow it would be very droll ;
My next near my first you often
discover ;
In my first you'll perhaps find my
whole. Freehold.
86. When may a man be said to steal
from his wife ? Bess.
87. Cut an animal's head off, if you will,
A part of it will be left you still.
Mattie Bell.
88. What English word will make you
sick, if you take away one letter ?
Lizzie M. S.
89. Made up of two every-day tools,
One for the garden, and one for
the wood,
I play upon credulous fools,
Not always for harm, but never
for good. Ike.
90. Take 2 from 1000, and leave but 5.
Adelbert Older.
91. Why is a naughty boy like a postage
stamp ? Carrie.
92. Where did Moses go when he was
full sixteen years old ? F. V. B.
93. What is the derivation of the word
" candidate ?" Cousin JY.
THE RAPIDS.
THE SURPRISE.
T CONSIDEEED it very fortunate
J- that, after a long absence, I should
reach home, on my mother's birth-
day, intending to surprise her by an
unexpected arrival. I left the stage
at a corner, a few miles distant from
our village, and struck into' a wood-
path, which would lead me along the
bank of the river, and bring me up at
the rear of the house, some time be-
fore the stage, in its long winding
course through the village, and its
many pauses, to deliver other pas-
sengers, could arrive there. It was a
beautiful quiet morning in June. The
groves were full of birds, and alive
with song. The fields were gorgeous
with flowers and redolent with the in-
cense of the morning. And there was
NEW SEEIES. VOL. VI. 1
a certain home feeling in the atmo-
sphere, that made it a very cordial to
breathe it.
My course led me along the bank of
the river, to the Kapids, in which,
from my boyish days, I had always
taken great delight. Often have I
amused myself for hours in clambei'ing
over the rocks, breasting the torrents,
or scudding with it, on some slightly
framed raft, into the still water below.
All these scenes of pleasure and of
danger, with the names and persons
of all who had shared in them, came
vividly up before me, as I stood awhile
gazing at the flashing waters, and
listening to the impetuous music of
their dance. It was the same scene
on which I had gazed a thousand
THE SUKPKISE.
times before. There were the tall
elms overhanging the stream, at the
great " West Bend." There was the
distant landscape, on the other side,
with its maple groves, its scores of
lovely villages, and thriving farms ; its
rich undulations of surface, and its
beautiful horizon of mountains, over
which the sun used to rise late, and to
which distance lent a never-failing
enchantment. There, too, were the
cows the same identical, fat, lazy,
comfortable, good-natured cows with
their feet in the water, quietly chew-
ing the same old cud, and making
demonstrations with their tails at the
same old flies, as when I was young.
I knew them well as it seemed, and
could have embraced them, but they
THE PREPABATIOtf.
did not know, or care for, me. So I
hurried on.
Turning up into the thick wood, I
soon heard voices, merry voices, with
snatches of music and shouting.
"What! thought I, the old woods are
haunted, and I shall not get home un-
observed. I walked more cautiously,
and listened for the direction of the
sound. I soon perceived that there
was quite a party of young folks, en-
gaged in some very lively business in
"the opening," as it was called a
sort of bay, niched into the side of the
forest, where the wood-road entered
it. I listened. Familiar voices greeted
my ear, and dear, familiar names were
repeated, with song, and jest, and
mirth, and a curious medley of advice,
direction, and ban-
ter. I understood
it all. The whole
tribe had turned
out, to celebrate
my mother's birth-
day, in the gray old
woods, under whose
shadow she was
born, and beneath
which she had lived
to see a large fam-
ily of descendants
gathered in peace
and harmony. And
so I should give
them a double sur-
prise. But to whom
should I first pre-
sent myself? To
my dear mother, if
possible, I said to
myself, using every
caution to avoid dis-
covery by any of
the younger ones,
who were sky-lark-
ing about in all di-
THE SUKPKISE.
rections, and liable to
come upon me at any mo-
ment.
I thought I could eas-
ily discover where my
mother would be likely
to be found her favorite
seat, overlooking, through
a narrow opening in the
trees, a long vista of the
river valley, and a beauti-
ful reach of western sun-
set scenery. She loved
the spot for its natural
beauty ; but more because
it was there she first saw
my father, in the morn-
ing of their early love.
Cautiously approaching
"the opening," I paused
awhile to see and hear
what was going on there.
How all my boyish days
came thronging back up-
on me, as I looked. The
same scene of prepara-
tion and merriment, in
which I had so often taken part, was
being enacted before me. I could
almost imagine myself there, and my
old companions all about me. I long-
ed to shout some familiar name. But
I dared not break the spell of silence
so soon. There was the tripod over
the fire, and the old kettle suspended
in the smoke. There was Annie, or
Julia, or Kate, superintending the
work the young beaux rushing hither
and thither, pretending to help, but
always in the way. There were the
little ones, whom I had never seen ;
the angels fresh from their pure home,
prattling, singing, and shedding show-
ers of sunbeams wherever they smiled.
There was the old white horse, turned
out to find his holiday among the
clover, and now, already satisfied,
MY MOTHER'S ARBOR.
looking on to see the fun. And there,
the old cart, which had brought up
the loaded baskets, and the cooking
utensils, standing like a deserted store
by the way-side for a new occupant to
come in.
"Almost ready," was the shout,
and I felt that I must hurry on, to in-
troduce myself to the host, before the
feast was spread. Turning off through
a narrow path, completely concealed
from view by a thick undergrowth,
I came upon my "Mother's Bower.' 1
And there, on her favorite seat, she
sat, my eldest sister by her side. In
the distance, some of the grandchildren
were playing, and on all sides, figures
of various sizes and hues were seen
flitting among the trees like fairies. I
approached softly from behind, and
THE sosre <w BOB LTSCOLST.
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ALMOST A DISCOVERY.
ALMOST A DISCOVERY.
'TWAS a soft bright evening in glorious
July-
Aunt Sue, at her window sitting,
"Was watching the moon in her travels
on high,
And the clouds around her flitting.
While Tema and Kate, in a fit of
Line,
In the arbor, far down below her,
Were discussing the mystery of this
Aunt Sue,
And wishing that they could know
her.
Aunt Sue looked up to the moon, and
thought
" What a model of calm endurance !
I would give, if the article might
be bought, [ance."
A crown for her quiet assur-
And Kate and Tema looked up
and said,
"Fair moon, pray where are
you going?
Do tell, if, in all the paths you
tread, [ing?"
Our Aunty Sue you are know-
The moon put on a quizzical smile,
Her easterly eye slyly winking,
And said, " You look too high by
a mile,
According to lunar thinking ;
Aunt Sue is a phantom, a fable, a
myth, [her,
Else, why do you never meet
When nephew and niece, her kin
and kith, [her?"
Come oft to the Chat to greet
This was all "Greek" to Tema
and Kate, [enigma,
So they tried their hand at
Conundrum, and pun, till they
thought they could beat
Dodt,Fleta, Adelbert and Sigma.
Here is one : and I think 'twill
critics divide, [ling
And set judges and juries a wrang-
" If you murder Aunt Sue, it would
be Su-i-cide ; [hanging ?"
If so, would they treat you with
A horseman, just then, through the
forest path flew,
And startled both Katy and Tema ;
And quickly Aunt Sue from her win-
dow withdrew,
And put on the guise of a dreamer.
The moon looked down through the
bars of a cloud,
As Tema and Kate w-ere inquiring
Why it was, that, when tired, it was
always allowed,
The only relief was re-tiring ? H.H.
AFRICAN TRIBES AND CUSTOMS.
AFRICAN TRIBES AND CUSTOMS.
THERE are in Africa a great number
*- of independent tribes and nations.
Some of them are very low in the scale
of civilization, while many of them
would compare favorably with most
of the pagan tribes in other parts of
the word.
The Damaras, in the south-western
part of the continent, are, generally
JONKER AFRICANER.
speaking, an exceedingly fine race of
men. Many of them are six feet, and
upward, in height, and well-propor-
tioned. Their features are regular and
good. Some of them might serve as
perfect models of the human figure.
The expression of their countenances
is intelligent and pleasing, and their
carriage and motions graceful and
easy. They are not, however, as
strong and athletic as their proportions
would seem to indicate. This is owing
chiefly to their mode of life, and indo-
lent habits. They wear but little
clothing, and that of the rudest kind.
JONKER AFRICANER was a fine speci-
men of physical development. To
show him off in good style, he was
presented with a suit of regimentals,
and some amuse-
ment was antici-
pated in witness-
ing his awkward
movements on
first putting them
on. He appear-
ed, however, as
perfectly easy and
self-possessed, and
moved about or
sat down with as
much dignity and
grace, as if he had
been trained at a
military acade-
my. The plumed
cap he held in his
hand, while sit-
ting, but wore it
with the air of a
commander when
standing or walk-
ing.
The women,
who are delicate-
ly formed, and well-proportioned, and
very fond of ornament, arrange what
covering they have, more with refer-
ence to that, than to utility or
decency. Their complexion is not en-
tirely black. The men are perfectly
indifferent to ornament for themselves,
and lavish all they can procure on
their wives and daughters. The
weapons of the Damaras are the
AFRICAN TRIBES AM) CUSTOMS.
"DAMAEA8, MALE AND FEMALE.
assegai, the kierie, and the bow and
arrow. The assegai, a sort of javelin,
as represented in the cut, is a long
wooden shaft, with a broad blade-like
head, which is usually kept highly
polished. The kierie, a smooth round
stick, about two feet long, tapering to
a point, is their favorite weapon. They
AFRICAN TKIBES AND CUSTOMS.
use it with great dexterity, rarely
missing a partridge, or a guinea-fowl
on the wing.
The houses of some tribes in Africa
are very curiously constructed. They
are, like those of the Damaras, dome-
shaped. The following description
we had, a few evenings since, from a
friend, who has visited that country,
and seen the houses in the course of
construction. They use no instrument
but their hands. They first pile up a
large mound of sand, scooping it with
their hands, and raising it as high as
they can reach or throw the sand.
"When this mound is large enough and
in the right form, they cover it with a
kind of clay, which they also prepare
with their hands, laying it on from
four to six inches thick, and smoothing
it down with great care. A small
opening is then made in the clay, on
the south side of the mound. It is
then left a little while, to dry in the
sun. As soon as it is firm enough to
sustain its own weight, all the sand is
scooped out clean. The place is then
filled with light brush-wood, large
quantities of which are also piled on
and around the outside. This being
ignited, creates an intense heat both
inside and outside, and literally bakes
the house into one perfect semi-spheri>
cal brick. It has no light except
through the door, which is so low,
that entrance can only be made by
going on all fours. These houses are
seldom used except for protection in
the rainy season, the people preferring,
at other times, to sleep in the open air.
The rivers of Africa abound in hip-
popotami, or river-horses. To those
of the people who cultivate their
fields they are a great annoyance, as
they are very voracious and destruc-
tive. The flesh of the young is very
good for food, but the old ones are too
fat and gross.
The natives hunt and kill them with
a sort of harpoon. It has a flat, oval-
shaped iron head, very sharp on the
edges. A long cord is attached to
SPEARING HIPPOPOTAMI.
NEVER BE HAUGHTY. WORK AND PLAY.
the harpoon, with a thick piece of light
wood or buoy at the other end. If
the harpoon is well thrown, it buries
itself deep in the flesh. The animal
plunges furiously in his pain ; and if
out of the water, the huntsman is in
danger of being crushed to death at
once. When he has spent some of his
strength in plunging and raving, the
huntsman ventures to find the buoy,
and pull upon the rope, putting the
monster in a great rage with the pain,
and drawing him near to the boat, or
to the bank of the river. As soon as
he comes within reach, they pierce
him with several more harpoons, and
finally worry him to death ; or if they
get near enough to drive one into his
head, they kill him instantly.
NEVER BE HAUGHTY.
A HUMMING-BIRD met a butterfly,
" and, being pleased with the beauty
of its person and glory of its wings,
made an offer of perpetual friendship.
" I can not think of it," was the reply,
" as you once spurned me, and called
me a drawling dolt." "Impossible,"
exclaimed the humming-bird; "I al-
ways entertained the highest respect
for such beautiful creatures as you."
" Perhaps you do now,"
said the other, "but when
you insulted me I was a
caterpillar. So let me give
you a piece of advice
never insult the humble, as
they may some day become
your superiors."
IF you wish to be always
thirsty, be a drunkard ; for
the oftener and more you
drink, the more thirsty you
will be.
FKEDDY AT WORK.
WORK AND PLAY.
mamma for a teacher,
'Tis easy to learn ;
Her eye gives her boy courage,
As hard pages turn.
She says, " Now, my dear Freddy,
Learn every word right ;
If you're patient, the hard spots
Will vanish from sight.
"When this task is well finished,
Your work will be done ;
The 
