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PITY, 



MERRVS MUSEUM, 



FOR 



BOYS AND GIRLS, 



Illustrated 




ENTIRE LT NEW SERIES. 



BOSTON: 

HORACE B. FULLER, PUBLISHER, 

14 BROMFIELD STREET. 

1869. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 

HORACE B. FULLER, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the 

District of Massachusetts. 



PRATT BROTHERS, 37 CORNHILL, BOSTON. 

Press-work by John Wilson and Son. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

About some Boys in the Queen's Do- 
minions Aunt Ada 17 

Adventures of a Worsted Boy, The 26 

Appeal of Peter the Hermit. Original 

Declamation J. Loomis 396 

Aunt Sue's Puzzle Drawer ...... 37, 78, 117, 160, 203, 243, 

284, 324, 369, 415, 464, 509 

Aunt Sue's Scrap-Bag 33,78,112,157,201,242, 

283,322, 368,413,462/507 

Be Polite 200 

Bunny 100 

Dolls' Masquerade, The K. E 121 

Eberstein .......... Mrs. Follen 500 

Forgiveness 70 

George Stephenson, the Engineer . . Cousin Mary 153 

Golden-Eyed Pansy H. H. W 316 

Jacko. A True Story Cousin Alice 421 

Katie and Susie ; or, The Useful Dress Annie Phillips .... 277 

Little Dykeman, The S. W. Lander . . . . 101 

Little Pearl . H. B. G. 10, 57,86, 142, 187,218, 

266, 308, 348, 394, 439 
Loggers (The) ; or, Six Months in the 

Forests of Maine 30,49,92,130,174,228,260 

Merry's Monthly Chat with his Friends . . 35,75,114,164,207,247, 

287, 328, 373, 420, 468, 512 

Milestones of English History . ; . Cousin Alice 197,238,271,311, 

360, 404, 444, 502 

Mink Curtiss ; or, Life in the Back- 
woods An Old Hunter 209, 280, 353, 

383, 448, 480 

My Little Friend L. M. Alcott 41 

My May-Day among Curious Birds and 

Beasts . . . Z. M. Alcott 81 

Mutiny Aboard 65 

Our Little Newsboy . ... . . . L. M. Alcott 139 

Palissy, the Potter >. Cousin Mary 304 

Persuadable Pig, The E. C. J 289 

Pets and Sports in Tasmania . . . M. G. Sleeker 32^ 398, 433, 487 



iy CONTENTS. 

Pago. 

Robert Gaffield A. M. F. P 249 

Story (The) of a Royal Bengal Tiger, 
and how he proved his Claim to 

the Title . . Cousin Alice . . . 319, 342 

Story of My Chickens, The .... Cousin Alice 104 

Story of Glaucus, The F. H. V. 377 

Sunshiny Sam L. M. Alcott 493 

Tessa's Surprises. A Christmas Story L. M. Alcott 469 

Tilly's Christmas L. M. Alcott I 

Trials of a Little King, The .... S. W. Lander 185 

Two Ways of Being Manly . . . . A. M. F. P 6, 45 

Under the Ice ; or, The Lost Ibex- 
Hunter - . From the German . . .425 

Venice Uncle Robert 108 

Will's Wonder-Book Z. M. Alcott 148, 169, 224, 255, 

301, 337, 409, 458 
Writing to Papa 367 

POETRY. 

Bird -Thoughts H.F.Robinson .... 397 

Flowers of Spring, The ...... S. W. Lander . . . .152 

Hylas, The Celia Thaxter . . . .147 

Kingbird, The . . . . . . . . Celia Thaxter . . . .217 

Kite, The . . L. A. B. 442 

Little Captives, The Mrs. A. M. Wells . . .173 

My Doves L. M. Alcott 99 

Nan's Houses . . . . . . . . H. B. Hudson . . . .259 

Our Little Ghost . L. M. Alcott 456 

Sewing, An Object for Aunt Sue 56 

Song (A) for the Children . . . . L. D. Nichols .... 498 

Temptation Mrs. A. M. Wells . . .336 

Transplanted May Hawk 254 

Waiting to See H.B.Hudson . . . .315 

What the Flowers Say Mrs. A. M. Wells . . .393 

What Polly Found in her Stocking . L. M. Alcott 25 

Where is Bennie ? L. M. Alcott 71 

Wishes L. M. Alcott 16 

Yellowbird Celia Thaxter 479 





VOL. I.] 



JANUARY, 1868. 



[NO. i. 




TILLY'S CHRISTMAS. 

J M so glad to-morrow is Christmas, because I'm go- 
ing to have lots of presents." 

" So am I glad, though I don't expect any pres- 
ents but a pair of mittens." 

" And so am I ; but I sha'n't have any presents at 
all." 

As the three little girls trudged home from school 
they said these things, and as Tilly spoke, both the others looked 
at her with pity and some surprise, for she spoke cheerfully, and 
they wondered how she could be happy when she was so poor she 
could have no presents on Christmas. 

" Don't you wish you could find a purse full of money right here 
in the path ? " said Kate, the child who was going to have " lots of 
presents." 

" Oh, don't I, if I could keep it honestly ! " and Tilly's eyes shone 
at the very thought. 

" What would you buy ? " asked Bessy, rubbing her cold hands, 
and longing for her mittens. 

" I'd buy a pair of large, warm blankets, a load of wood, a shawl 
for mother, and a pair of shoes for me ; and if there was enough 
left, I'd give Bessie a new hat, and then she needn't wear Ben's old 
felt one," answered Tilly. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by H. B. FULLER, in the Clerk's 
Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



2 TILLY'S CHRISTMAS. [January, 

The girls laughed at that ; but Bessy pulled the funny hat over 
her ears, and said she was much obliged, but she'd rather have 
candy. 

" Let's look, and may be we can find a purse. People are always 
going about with money at Christmas-time, and some one may lose 
it here," said Kate. 

So, as they went along the snowy road, they looked about them, 
half in earnest, half in fun. Suddenly, Tilly sprang forward, ex- 
claiming, 

" I see it ! I've found it ! " 

The others followed, but all stopped disappointed ; for it wasn't 
a purse, it was only a little bird. It lay upon the snow with its 
wings spread and feebly fluttering, as if too weak to fly. Its little 
feet were benumbed with cold ; its once bright eyes were dull with 
pain, and instead of a blithe song, it could only utter a faint chirp, 
now and then, as if crying for help. 

" Nothing but a stupid old robin. How provoking ! " cried 
Kate, sitting down to rest. 

" I sha'n't touch it ; I found one once, and took care of it, and 
the ungrateful thing flew away the minute it was well," said Bessy, 
creeping under Kate's shawl, and putting her hands under her chin 
to warm them. 

" Poor little birdie ! How pitiful he looks, and how glad he must 
be to see some one coming to help him. I'll take him up gently, 
and carry him home to mother. Don't be frightened, dear, I'm 
your friend ; " and Tilly knelt down in the snow, stretching her hand 
to the bird with the tenderest pity in her face. 

Kate and Bessy laughed. 

"Don't stop for that thing; it's getting late and cold: let's go 
on and look for the purse," they said, moving away. 

" You wouldn't leave it to die ! " cried Tilly. " I'd rather have 
the bird than the money ; so I sha'n't look any more. The purse 
wouldn't be mine, and I should only be tempted to keep it ; but 
this poor thing will thank and love me, and I'm so glad I came in 
time.". 

Gently lifting the bird, Tilly felt its tiny cold claws cling to her 
hand, and saw its dim eyes brighten as it nestled down with a grate- 
ful chirp. 

" Now I've got a Christmas present after all," she said, smiling, 
as they walked on. " I always wanted a bird, and this one will be 
such a pretty pet for me." 



i868.] TILLY'S CHRISTMAS. 3 

" He'll fly away the first chance he gets, and die anyhow ; so you'd 
better not waste your time over him," said Bessy. 

" He can't pay you for taking care of him, and my mother says 
it isn't worth while to help folks that can't help us," added Kate. 

" My mother says, ' Do as you'd be done by ;' and I'm sure I'd 
like any one to help me, if I was dying of cold and hunger. ' Love 
your neighbor as yourself/ is another of her sayings. This bird is 
my little neighbor, and I'll love him and care for him, as I often 
wish our rich neighbor would love and care for us," answered Tilly, 
breathing her warm breath over the benumbed bird, who looked up 
at her with confiding eyes, quick to feel and know a friend. 

" What a funny girl you are," said Kate, " caring for that silly 
bird, and talking about loving your neighbor in that sober way. 
Mr. King don't care a bit for you, and never will, though he knows 
how poor you are ; so I don't think your plan amounts to much." 

" I believe it, though ; and shall do my part anyway. Good- 
night. I hope you'll have a merry Christmas, and lots of pretty 
things," answered Tilly, as they parted. 

Her eyes were full, and she felt so poor as she went on alone tow- 
ard the little old house where she lived. It would have been so 
pleasant to know that she was going to have some of the pretty 
things all children love to find in their full stockings on Christmas 
morning. And pleasanter still to have been able to give her mother 
something nice. So many comforts were needed, and there was 
no hope of getting them ; for they could barely get food and fire. 

" Never mind, birdie, we'll make the best of what we have, and be 
merry in spite of everything. You shall have a happy Christmas, 
anyway ; and I know God wont forget us, if every one else does." 

She stopped a minute to wipe her eyes, and lean her cheek 
against the bird's soft breast, finding great comfort in the little 
creature, though it could only love her, nothing more. 

" See, mother, what a nice present I've found," she cried, going 
in with a cheery face that was like sunshine in the dark room. 

" I'm glad of that, deary ;' for I haven't been able to get my little 
girl anything but a rosy apple. Poor bird ! Give it some of your 
warm bread and milk." 

" Why, mother, what a big bowlful ! I'm afraid you gave me all 
the milk," said Tilly, smiling over the nice steaming supper that 
stood ready for her. 

" I've had plenty, dear. Sit down and dry your wet feet, and put 
the bird in my basket on this warm flannel." 



4 TILLY'S CHRISTMAS. [January, 

Tilly peeped into the closet and saw nothing there but dry bread. 

" Mother's given me all the milk, and is going without her tea, 
'cause she knows I'm hungry. Now I'll surprise her, and she shall 
have a good supper too. She is going to split wood, and I'll fix it 
while she's gone." 

So Tilly put down the old tea-pot, carefully poured out a part of 
the milk, and from her pocket produced a great plummy bun, that 
one of the school-children had given her, and she had saved for her 
mother. A slice of the dry bread was nicely toasted, and the bit 
of butter set by for her put on it. When her mother came in there 
was the table drawn up in a warm place, a hot cup of tea ready, 
and Tilly and birdie waiting for her. 

Such a poor little supper, and yet such a happy one ; for love, 
charity, and contentment were guests there, and that Christmas eve 
was a blither one than that up at the great house, where lights 
shone, fires blazed, a great tree glittered, and music sounded, as 
the children danced and played. 

" We must go to bed early, for we've only wood enough to last 
over to-morrow. I shall be paid for my work the day after, and 
then we can get some," said Tilly's mother, as they sat by the fire. 

" If my bird was only a fairy bird, and would give us three wishes, 
how nice it would be ! Poor dear, he can't give me anything ; but 
it's no matter,"answered Tilly, looking at the robin, who lay in the 
basket with his head under his wing, a mere little feathery bunch. 

" He can give you one thing, Tilly, the pleasure of doing good. 
That is one of the sweetest things in life ; and the poor can enjoy 
it as well as the rich." 

As her mother spoke, with her tired hand softly stroking her 
little daughter's hair, Tilly suddenly started and pointed to the 
window, saying, in a frightened whisper, 

" I saw a face, a man's face, looking in ! It's gone now ; but 
I truly saw it." 

" Some traveller attracted by the light, perhaps ; I'll go and see." 
And Tilly's mother went to the door. 

No one was there. The wind blew cold, the stars shone, the 
snow lay white on field and wood, and the Christmas moon was 
glittering in the sky. 

" What sort of a face was it ? " asked Tilly's mother, coming back. 

" A pleasant sort of face, I think ; but I was so startled, I don't 
quite know what it was like. I wish we had a curtain there," said 
Tilly. 



i86S.] TILLY'S CHRISTMAS. 5 

" I like to have our light shine out in the evening ; for the road 
is dark and lonely just here, and the twinkle of our lamp is pleas- 
ant to people's eyes as they go by. We can do so little for our 
neighbors, I am glad to cheer the way for them. Now put these 
poor old shoes to dry, and go to bed, deary ; I'll come soon." 

Tilly went, taking her bird with her to sleep in his basket near 
by, lest he should be lonely in the night. 

Soon the little house was dark and still, and no one saw the 
Christmas spirits at their work that night. 

When Tilly opened the door next morning, she gave a loud cry, 
clapped her hands, and then stood still, quite speechless with wonder 
and delight. There, before the door, lay a great pile of wood, all 
ready to burn, a big bundle and a basket, with a lovely nosegay of 
winter roses, holly, and evergreen tied to the handle. 

" Oh, mother, did the fairies do it ? " cried Tilly, pale with her 
happiness, as she seized the basket while her mother took in the 
bundle. 

" Yes, dear, the best and dearest fairy in the world, called ' Char- 
ity.' She walks abroad at Christmas time, does beautiful deeds like 
this, and does not stay to be thanked," answered her mother with 
full eyes, as she undid the parcel. 

There they were, the warm, thick blankets, the comfortable 
shawl, the new shoes, and, best of all, a pretty winter hat for Bessy. 
The basket was full of good things to eat, and on the flowers lay a 
paper saying, 

"For the little girl who loves her neighbor as herself." 

" Mother, I really think my bird is a fairy bird, and all these 
splendid things come from him," said Tilly, laughing and crying 
with joy. 

It really did seem so, for, as she spoke, the robin flew to the ta- 
ble, hopped to the nosegay, and perching among the roses, began 
to chirp with all his little might. The sun streamed in on flow- 
ers, bird, and happy child, and no one saw a shadow glide away 
from the window ; no one ever knew that Mr. King had seen and 
heard the little girls the night before, or dreamed that the rich 
neighbor had learned a lesson from the poor neighbor. 

And Tilly's bird was a fairy bird ; for by her love and tenderness 
to the helpless thing, she brought good gifts to herself, happiness 
to the unknown giver of them, and a faithful little friend who did 
not fly away, but stayed with her till the snow was gone, making 
summer for her in the winter-time. 

L. M. Alcott. 



TWO WAYS OF BEING MANLY. 



[January, 




TWO WAYS OF BEING MANLY. 

ILL you let that boy alone, Ned Parker? 
It's shameful, and he smaller, younger, and 
weaker than you, and a stranger too ! 
How can you be so mean ? " 

These words were uttered in a rapid and 
indignant tone, by George Grey, a slight 
1'ad of thirteen, to a boy older and larger 
than himself, who was tormenting, as boys 
only know how to torment a delicate-look- 
ing child of twelve, while other boys stood 
looking on, some enjoying the sport (?), others sharing in George 
Grey's indignation. 

" Oh," answered Ned, in a contemptuous manner, " it's Miss 
Georgiana, is it? Couldn't bear to see her little pet seasoned 
could she ? not even when told it's for the darling's good to use 
him to our ways, and make a man of him." 

Then changing his tone to an angry one, he said, 
" I'll let him alone now, because I'm tired of badgering him, but 
not for your interference, or that of any other Miss Georgiana of 
you all. I'll teach the little snivelling, frog-eating Frencher to 
come here and shew off his airs upon us." 

Even Ned Parker was startled by the effect these words pro- 
duced. It was recess, and all the boys of Mr. Barry's school had 
been playing in the yard until their attention was arrested by Ned 
Parker and Louis Dubois. Loud cries of " Shame on you Ned ! " 
" How mean ! " " George is right ! " " stand up for George ! " 
" He's no more Miss than you are," were heard, while Louis, for 
the first time in the knowledge of the boys, gave way to a perfect 
tempest of rage. Jumping up and down, and throwing his arms 
about in a frantic way, he cried out, 

"I'm not that you call me. I no more grenoulle, what you 
call frog-eating than yourself, you bad, tres mediant boy. Vous etes 
un Oh, what am I doing ? I promised ma chere maman I 
would always keep the temper, mais, " and here the child's 
anger burst forth again, " it is all your fault every bit you tres, 
not kind boy," shaking his little fists at Ned, who stood-by trying 
to whistle off his surprise and mortification, while some of the 
boys shouted, 



1 868.] TWO WAYS OF BEING MANLY. 7 

" Bravo ! That's a little man ! Pitch into him, Louis ! " 

" No, no, Louis," said George to the boy, who looked as if 
he would very much like to follow the advice given him, " don't 
mind Ned ; he doesn't mean half he says ; and don't mind the 
other boys, either. Come with me to the pump and wash your 
face and curl your little head before the bell rings for us to go 
in." 

"I could bear any any thing but that about the 
gren the frogs. I know just what the boys think, and it's not 
so, me don't eat frogs," sobbed out Louis, suffering George to 
lead him off, however, to the pump, where, with cold water and 
kind words, he succeeded in quieting the fiery little fellow. After 
school was dismissed, George walked home with Louis, in order to 
prevent any further annoyance from Ned. There was no danger of 
that, however, for not only did Ned perceive that he was on the 
unpopular side, but he was also requested by Mr. Barry to remain 
a few moments after the other boys had gone home. 

" Parker^" said Mr. Barry, " I saw from one of the school-room 
windows what passed to-day at recess. I did not interfere, because 
I wished to see to what extent you would carry your cruel sport, 
and also to ascertain the feeling of your companions ; you are the 
oldest and strongest boy in your class, you are also the boy from 
whom I have heard in one way and another a great deal of talk 
about being manly. My idea of a manly boy is this : one who is 
obedient and respectful to his superiors, and kind to his equals and 
inferiors ; for these are qualities indispensable to a true man. Do 
you agree with me ? " 

Ned did not dare to say how very different were his ideas of man- 
liness. To imitate, as far as was admissible for his years, the dress 
of his elders, to learn to smoke, to be rebellious and surly to his 
father, to snort and grunt in a very canine fashion at his mother, to 
domineer over and torment his younger brothers and sisters, and 
those whom he considered his inferiors had been hitherto his prac- 
tice of manliness. His answer was characteristic ; for, with all 
Ned's faults, he was as truthful as a boy could be who was so very 
untrue to his own better nature. 

" I don't see how it can be manly to be obedient. Men don't 
have to mind ; do they ? That's one reason I want to be a man, 
so that I can do as I like." 

" Always, if they are true men. After the rule of parents, teach- 
ers, and employers is over, there is the rigid rule of conscience and 



8 TWO WAYS OF BEING MANLY. [January, 

the irreversible rule of God's law ; and he who is most obedient 
under this rule is the noblest, truest man." 

Mr. Barry spoke a few more words kindly to Ned, and then 
added, in a more severe tone, 

" Let this be the last occasion you know it is not the first 
which I shall have to speak to you upon this matter of tyranny over 
younger boys." 

Half sullenly, half repentant, Ned left the school-room. A new 
idea had been given him, the idea of the universal law of obe- 
dience, from which no one is exempt. His father and mother were 
of that class who believe all boys and men must go through a cer- 
tain amount of wrong-doing, and then they will come out " all 
right." How often the " all right " proved to be " all wrong " they 
did not trouble themselves to ask. Ned went home with a little 
less of the usual swagger in his gait, and a little less defiant swing 
to his cane than usual ; for, do what he would, the words " a manly 
boy is one who is obedient and respectful to his superiors, and 
kind to his equals and inferiors " kept ringing in his ears. It made 
an impression upon him, too, to the extent that he did not object to ' 
doing the next errand his father required of him, answered his 
mother's questions at the table in a half-civil way, and let the 
younger children alone, which, perhaps, was quite as much as could 
be- expected from him. 

Louis's mother lived a little out of Montville in a tumble-down 
cottage, which she had taken for its cheap rent and its nearness 
to the river. It was, in fact, on the very brink of the river on 
a rising ground, from which a winding path led down to the 
water's edge, a favorite play-place of Louis and his little sister. 
As the boys walked through the thickly-settled part of the town, 
they were silent, but as they drew nearer Louis's home, he said, 

"Very much I thank you, George for your goodness to me, a 
poor garcon who knows so little of your ways. At home I used 
not to go to school, but studied with my mother, and played with 
Jaques, and mine own petite soeur Louise. Ah, you shall see 
Louise some day. She is si charmant ! We lived in a chateau by 
the sea in our belle France ; and it was not cold like this country ; 
and the ladies who came to see ma chere and belle maman were not 
cold and proud, like the ladies some of them, I mean, who come to 
her now with their laces to mend and do up. Ah ! she had servants 
then to work for her ; and I had un chere papa, who would never, 
never let any one be not kind to me or Louise. But he died, and 



l868.] TWO WAYS OF BEING MANLY. 9 

we came to this cold country to find my uncle, and we never found 
him, and but perhaps you do not care to hear all this." 

" Yes, Louis, I do care very much. Are you quite sure all is 
just as you say ? " 

" Come and see maman, then you will know it is as I say," re- 
plied the boy, vehemently. 

" I will some day soon, Louis, if my mother is willing, but not 
now, for she does not know where I am." 

" Wait ! wait ! there is Louise," cried Louis, as a little light 
figure with dancing eyes and waving curls, darted out from a 
little clump of trees before them. 

Oh, she's afraid of you, George, and is running away to hide 
by the river-side. Let's follow her," cried out Louis. 

There had been heavy rains, and the little inlet before the cot- 
tage was full of logs which had floated down 1 he river, for Mont- 
ville was in a lumber district. Upon these logs the little girl 
sprang, looking back defiantly at the boys, half in sport, half in 
fear. 

" Oh, Louise, you mustn't. I told you never to do that without 
me," called out Louis. But on she went, aiming to reach a little 
point from which another rough path led up to the house, till grow- 
ing excited and careless, she missed her footing, and fell into the 
water. George was familiar with river perils, and he knew the 
child's present danger was, of rising and striking her head upon a 
log, in which casa she might sink before he could reach her. 
Seizing a pile from the bank, he dashed upon the logs where 
Louise had fallen, and pushed them apart with all his force. She 
rose to the surface beyond his reach, and, leaping into the water, 
he caught her by her dress just as she was sinking again. Then, 
burdened as he was with her weight, he got her safely to the shore, 
and laid her, white and cold at her mother's feet ; for Mrs. Dubois 
had heard her boy's cry of terror, and had come out to see the 
peril and the rescue of her darling. George was pale, dripping, 
and shivering, but his face was lighted up with the earnest purpose 
which had moved him, and he looked not the Miss Georgiana Ned 
had derisively called him, but the brave, manly boy he was. 

F. W. A. P. 

(To be continued^ 



10 



LITTLE PEARL. 



[January, 




LITTLE PEARL. 



CHAPTER I. PLAYING MOTHER. 




EAR, if it rains, and I have to stay in the house 
all day with hateful old Miss Muggins, I will not 
try to be good ! " 

Agnes Marsh was not only in ill-humor when 
she said this, but was feeling quite as wretched 
as it is possible for a little girl to feel. 
"I never have any pleasure now unless I earn it," she added; 
"and I have to work just as hard for it, as papa does to earn 
money." 

The tone in which this was spoken meant a great deal ; for in 
all her little life until now Agnes never had any more cause for 



f 868.] LITTLE PEARL. II 

grief than the birds or the butterflies have. Love, tender care, and 
all pleasant things had been to her as common as sunshine ; now 
it was different. Dr. Marsh, Agnes' father, had moved to one of 
the Western States, and Agnes' home was on the border of a vast 
prairie. On one side was a great forest, and on the other side, as 
far as one could see, was nothing but the great level, grassy plain ; 
though a little way out on the prairie, near a grove of hickory trees, 
one house could be seen, and through a clearing in the woods the 
church spires of the nearest town were visible. 

A lonely place it seemed to Agnes at first ; but she soon found 
much to make it pleasant. Free, out-door life, picking wild flowers 
on the prairie, and playing in the shady woods, was better than be- 
ing shut up in the nursery. Then, too, Agnes' mamma had that 
rare faculty of making happy every one around her, especially 
her own little ones : for there were other children besides Agnes. 
There was Gassy, who was only a year younger, Pearl, and little 
Bliss. Very carefully had their good mother watched over all of 
them, kept their little feet in right paths, and lovingly ministered 
to all their wants ; but she had gone from them, and in this world 
never again would they know her loving care. She was dead, and 
the happy new home \vas desolate. 

The children now were entirely under the care of the housekeeper. 
Dr. Marsh was deeply absorbed in business, and was away from 
home most of the time. Early every morning he went into the 
neighboring town, and did not return until evening ; and what 
Gassy often said was quite the truth, " That Miss Muggins, the 
housekeeper, was no more fit to take care of children, than an old 
bear." She was ignorant and ill-tempered, and often sadly neg- 
lected the poor little ones. Sometimes she would go away and 
stay all day, leaving the children ak)ne. 

Better days were coming for them. Before the flowers faded, or 
the green of the prairie turned to brown, dear Grandma May, Aunt 
Nelly, their mamma's youngest sister, and Debby, the kind old 
nurse, from their ^old home in New England, would be there and 
home would be home once more. They were to have come shortly 
after Mrs. Marsh died ; but a great trouble fell upon Aunt Nelly. 
One who was dearer to her than any other earthly friend, one 
with whom she had thought to have spent all life's pleasant days, 
passed away, as the mother had, and then there came to her a dan- 
gerous illness, from which she was but just now recovered. She 
had written : 



12 LITTLE PEARL. [January, 

" Dear little ones, as soon as I am strong enough, I will come to 
you, and it shall be the study of my life to make you happy." 

It was now nearly five months since the mother's death, and the 
children, once well-bred, thoughtful and sweet-tempered, were quite 
like little Hottentots. Miss Muggins had little control over them. 
They played out of door from morning until night, and Gassy 
learned to ride a horse bareback, and to climb a house or a tree as 
well as any boy. But they stood in awe of their father, and when they 
saw him coming across the prairie, they would rush into the house, 
wash their little dirty faces, and change their soiled and tattered 
frocks ; then they would go out on the piazza to meet him, looking 
as demure and good as little kittens. 

Agnes often tried to act the part of the elder sister, and make 
the others do what she thought right. She would have care over 
them, get all their little ragged clothes together, try,to mend them, 
and to keep Pearl and Bliss from getting into trouble and clanger. 
Agnes soon tired of her good work, or, as Gassy said, " Her good 
fits didn't last very long." The children tried her patience, too, 
severely, little Bliss more than all ; for it was as much as one pair 
of watchful eyes and one pair of busy hands could do to keep the 
little rogue out of mischief. Never was a child so fearless. He 
was only four years old, but he had the spirit of a very big boy. 
He would play with the horses in such a way as to put himself in 
danger of being kicked to death, pull the cow's tail, chase the hens 
and ducks all over the prairie, climb the hay-loft, and over the high- 
est fences, and, worse than all, in hunting for wild turkeys get lost 
in the woods. 

Pearl was quite different from the others, a delicate, sensitive 
child, with a mind too mature for one so young. Grief for the loss 
of her mother was still fresh in her little heart, and her chief pleas- 
ure was in keeping the hallowed spot in the little grove at one end 
of the garden, covered with fresh flowers and bright green mosses. 
Little Pearl was neither cheery nor strong enough to share in the 
sports of the other children. She would sit on the piazza steps for 
hours, with Jero, her great Newfoundland dog beside her, at ease 
and almost happy, if her sisters and little brother were only where 
she could see or hear them ; for they had a habit of running away 
from her, and nothing distressed her more except the wilfulness 
and daring spirit which little Bliss so often showed. Pearl was 
Bliss's best guardian, and many times had her strength and courage 
been taxed to the utmost by the adventuresome little fellow. 



I865.J LITTLE PEARL. 13 

Agnes was often sorry for being so neglectful of her poor little 
sister, and all her stolen pleasures were made bitter by thoughts of 
the little pale face and the great tearful eyes, and by the memory 
of all the dear mother's teachings. But wrong ways had become 
pleasant ways, and that is what she meant by saying that she 
never had any pleasure now unless she earned it. She was not quite 
eleven years old, but she knew how to do a vast deal better than 
she did do ; and the morning she made the remarks recorded in 
the beginning of the chapter, she had resolved that she would do 
better, that she would be kind to Pearl, take good care of Bliss, 
and try to do all that she knew her dear mother would like her to 
do. But when the day had fairly begun, and breakfast was over 
and her father had gone into town, she became disheartened. It 
was chilly and sunless out of door, and Bliss happened to be in 
very bad humor that morning ; he would neither be dressed nor 
take his breakfast, but was sitting in his little chair crying with 
all his might, and nothing could stop him. Agnes had tried in 
every way; Pearl had sung to him, Gassy had scolded and given 
him a shaking ; but one had no more effect than the other. Agnes 
stood looking out of the window, feeling unhappy enough to have 
a good hearty cry herself. 

" There is no sort of use in trying to be good such weather as 
this, and such a noise around you," she said to herself. " I'll go 
over to Lule Fenwick's, and stay all day." 

The Fenwicks lived in the hickory grove on the prairie. They 
were kind, respectable people, but their children were quite rude ; 
and Mrs. Marsh had never allowed her little ones to be very intimate 
with them. But now Agnes and Gassy spent most of their time at 
the grove ; and they often went hunting in the woods with Lule and 
the boys. 

Agnes had quite decided to go, and she was planning how she 
should get away and not let Gassy know, when little Pearl came 
up to her and said, with a pleading look, 

" Dear Aggie, please don't run away to-day, will you ? Let us 
make some sunshine." 

" Make some sunshine ! " that is what the dear mother used to 
say, when the day was dreary, and what other soft blue eyes had 
ever looked into her own, filled with the same warm light ? 

Agnes' heart melted ; she threw her arms around Pearl's neck, 
and tears flowed fast and free. 

" Oh, little sister, I will be good, I will be good," she sobbed. 



14 LITTLE PEARL. [January, 

" Now, Agnes, you needn't begin to bawl," said Cassy, coming 
to the window. " What is the matter with you ? I declare, it is 
enough to kill anybody ! and if that young one don't stop screech- 
ing, I'll give him a good whipping. Bliss, go and call Miss Mug- 
gins, and she will put you down cellar with the rats." 

Bliss cried louder than before. 

Just then, Agnes remembered that Bliss was always charmed 
with music. She ran quickly above stairs, brought down an old 
music box, and wound it up. Its cheery strains acted like magic 
on the little fellow. He was soon dancing round the room, blithe 
as a bird. 

" Now, Bliss, come and be dressed," said Agnes, after a few mo- 
ments. 

" No ; dit out the way. I want to dance the must?" 

" O Bliss ! if you'll go be dressed and have your face washed," 
said Pearl, "you shall have Noody's little egg for your breakfast." 

Now, Noody was a poor young hen, that had been awkwardly 
treated by all of her friends and relations, particularly a bad old 
aunt, who had picked out one of her eyes, and frightened her 
into a fire, where she had burnt off all of her tail-feathers. Pearl, 
pitying her, had taken her into the house, and cared for her with 
great tenderness. Noody, being very grateful, came almost every 
day, and laid an egg on Pearl's little trundle bed; the last egg 
that she had laid was so small that Bliss was delighted with it ; 
and the promise of having it for his breakfast made him yield 
quickly. 

" There now, children, clear out of the way," said Miss Muggins, 
coming into the room, with broom and dust-pan in hand ; " I want 
to fix up here. What has that boy been yelling about ? " she asked. 

"I hasn't been yelling," said Bliss, " I been trying." 

The children took the music-box, and went into the kitchen ; 
and, after Bliss had had his breakfast, Agnes said, 

" Come, Cassy, let us go up into the play-room and stay to-day, 
it is not pleasant enough to play out door. We'll make a fire up 
there. Don't you want to ? " 

" Yes, if you'll make the fire," said Cassy. 

" We'll make it together," Agnes said. " You take the kindlings 
and I'll take the wood, and let us go quick, before Miss Muggins 
comes. Bring Jero if you want him, Pearl." 

" And I vont Kitty Clover," said Bliss, catching hold of Kitty's 
tail, just as she was running under the table. 



f868.] LITTLE PEARL. 15 

The play-room was a large, unfurnished chamber, used for a 
store-room, but the children kept their playthings there, and called 
it their play-room. It had a good broad fireplace, and now a 
bright fire glowed on the hearth, changing all the gloom of the bare- 
looking place to pleasantness. Agnes was seated near the fire, the 
others were sitting on the floor beside her, and she was talking to 
them in a very earnest manner. 

" You know, Gassy, that it is very dangerous for us to go on in 
this way," she said. " We shall be so bad pretty soon that we 
wont want to be good. You know, when mamma made the garden, 
how she gave every one of us a bed tcf have for our own, and made 
us take care of it ourselves, and told us that unless we kept the 
weeds all out, that they would come up and choke the flowers so 
that they couldn't grow just as good things couldn't grow in us 
unless we kept evil away. We planted some seeds this spring, 
but we didn't pull up any weeds, and just look at the beds now, 
Gassy ; they are all covered over with weeds. And just think 
how we've been acting ! There is nothing in our hearts but 
weeds." 

" I know it," said Gassy, looking sad ; " but it was an awful trou- 
ble to keep the weeds pulled up ; wasn't it ? " 

" Yes ; and it is an awful trouble to keep the weeds out of us," 
said Agnes ; " but we must do it, Gassy, we must begin to say our 
prayers at night as we used to do ; and we mustn't run away from 
Pearl any more ; and we mustn't play so much with the Fenwick 
children, and we " 

" I shall play with Susy ; she is a good little girl," said Gassy. 

" Yes she is good, and so is Tad ; but if we go with them, we'll 
have to go with the others, too ; and if mother knew how much 
we went with them, she would feel awfully about it. I know she 
would." 

"I'd like to know why they aint just as good as we are," Gassy 
said. " But do let us go to playing if we are ever going to." 

" Gassy, will you promise that you will be good, will you be- 
gin to-day, and try to do right after this ? I'm going to," said 
Agnes. 

" Yes," said Gassy. 

" In earnest ? " 

" Yes." 

But there was something like a, smile playing round the corners 
of Cassy's mouth, and Agnes noticed it. 



1 6 LITTLE PEARL. [January, 

" O Cassy ! " she said, " you are only making fun ? " 

" No, I aint. I'm just as sober as I can be," said Cassy. 

"Well, now," said Agnes, " I'll tell you what we'll do; we'll 
play mother ; and you all be my little children ; and I'll see if I 
can't make some new clothes for Bliss, little boy's clothes, jacket 
and trousers. Wont that be nice ? For he is big enough. Those 
dresses look awfully on him now ; don't they ? " 

" What will you make them out of? " asked Cassy. 

" That great blue cape we have to play with ; it would make 
nice ones." 

" How are you going to cut them ? " 

(To be continued.) 



WISHES. 

" WHAT shall we wish for ? " 

The Children say, 
As they wait and long 

For New Year's Day. 
Oh, wish, little friends, 

For gifts that last, 
When toys are broken, 

And bon-bons past. 
Wish for cheerful hearts, 

And willing feet ; 
Wish for- gentle tongues, 

And tempers sweet ; 
Wish for these, and find, 

W T hen months have rolled, 
A happy New Year 

Born of the Old. 

Aunt Louise. 




l868.[ ABOUT SOME BOYS IN THE QUEEN'S DOMINIONS. 





ABOUT SOME BOYS IN THE QUEEN'S DOMINIONS. 

OLD on, boys, a minute before we 
_ begin the game," said James Lee, 
. a bright, stirring lad, and the 
leader in all the sports ; " I've some 
news to tell you ; and if you don't 
give and catch the better for it, I'm 
mistaken, that's all. Hark, every one 
of you, and open your ears. Robert 
Merry is going to publish a Magazine 
for us youngsters." 
" Going to publish a magazine, is he ? " cries one ; " why, my 
father took it when he was a boy, and we have the old numbers 
now." 

"Well, it is the same as a new Magazine," replied James. 
" Wait until I read this document I cut from a newspaper last 
night ; and don't all hurra at once, now. This tells the story in 
black and white. 

" ' With the issue of the January Number, Robert Merry's Mu- 
seum will appear enlarged, improved, and rejuvenated, with new 
contributors, new artists, new engravers, new features, and % in a 
new dress ! 

" ' It will enter on its twenty-ninth year with a larger circulation, 
with fresher life, with better prospects, and with abler pens and 
more picturesque pencils, to vivify and adorn it, than it has ever 
known since, more than a generation ago, it first delighted the boys 
and girls of that day with its lively and amusing Sketches, and its 
ingenious and puzzling Charades.' " 

" Good on his head ! " said another. " Just the thing we want ! " 
cried a fourth. " Three cheers for Robert Merry ! " and a pro- 



1 8 ABOUT SOME BOYS IN THE QUEEN'S DOMINIONS. [January, 

longed shout poured forth from the throats of those merry school- 
boys as they ranged themselves for the game of ball. 

" Now, I propose," said James Lee, " that we all get together 
to-night to see how many will be allowed to take it ; for, if we 
form a ' club,' we can get it cheaper, you know. Come to my 
room, all hands, at seven o'clock ; and now begin, boys, give us 
the ball." 

At the time specified, a company of nine assembled to discuss 
matters. A chairman was appointed, and the club called the " In- 
dependent Nine." 

" It's no use discussing the merits of the Magazine," said the first 
speaker, " if Robert has it in charge, we needn't trouble our heads, 
as he knows the sort of thing we want a little better than we know 
ourselves. Put down my name." 

" My father laughs," said another, "that I, a 'blue-nose,' and 
the son of a real Englishman, should be in such a fever about 
Yankee books ; but the truth is, I think the Yanks know better how 
to write youngish books. Put down my name." 

" I live with an uncle," said Tom Smith, " who is pretty kind, but 
so old, he forgets he ever was young. Of course, it would be non- 
sense for me to think of such a thing." 

" My father," said John Grant, " says I read too much now, 
that my head is stuffed full of Mayne Reid's Sketches ; and that he 
can't pay out money." 

" Mine," said another, " is quite willing I should take it, if I can 
pay for it myself ; and I have engaged to saw three cords of wood 
for Uncle John. Here goes on my autograph ! " 

James Lee, the chairman, was the last to speak. 

" I take one magazine and two small temperance papers. Fa- 
ther takes two magazines and some English periodicals, and says 
he can hardly afford to take another, as winter is coming on, and 
he must help the Widow Green. She has no wood, and the house 
needs banking. A little shanty must be built for the cow the 
neighbors gave her, and the glass must be mended. Altogether he 
ought to expend twenty dollars for her, and let luxuries alone ; 
although he was sure the Magazine would be first rate. Now, look 
here, boys, I've been thinking ever since dinner, trying to fix 
things. The Magazine I'm bound to have ! and I mean to work 
myself for Widow Green and earn it ! " 

" You ? " 

" Yes, me ! I'm not ashamed to work ; and if any of you want 



1 868.] ABOUT SOME BOYS IN THE QUEEN'S DOMINIONS. 19 

to do the same thing, come on, to-morrow afternoon. Father has 
lent me his horse." 

Wednesday afternoon, seven of the nine assembled at Widow 
Green's ; and the way they banked that house was a wonder to 
slow folks. James Lee then started his cart to the mills for slab- 
wood, which they were always willing to give away. Night came 
before they felt at all ready to leave ; and, as they rode leisurely 
toward home, on the cart, chatting pleasantly, they concluded it was 
about as good fun as playing ball every day. 

" I can be glazier," said the Doctor's boy. I have a lump of putty 
and a first-rate knife ; but what about the glass ? " 

"/'//get the glass," said James Lee, decidedly. "I've begun 
this thing, and I'm bound to see it put through ! Widow Green, cow- 
shed, and all, away over to the Magazine; that I will have, and 
so shall you all, if you stick by me ! " 

" Stick we will ! Hurra for Jim Lee ! " 

Saturday afternoon, most of the boys were surprised to find a 
man at Widow Green's, framing, and setting up a seven-by-nine 
shanty. James Lee drove up with some refuse boards he had got 
cheap at the mill, and a box containing board-nails. 

" Now, boys, I want you to be nailing these on the right spot, 
while I go back for more." 

I don't think an artist would care to paint a picture of that shed ; 
but I know it looked pleasant to the widow, and felt so to old 
moolie cow, when they drove her in that cold October night. 

As the boys piled into the cart to go back to the village, they 
had a very happy, satisfied feeling steal over them. The house 
was banked, shed up, glass mended, and the widow and her chil- 
dren radiant with joy. They had begun to do good ; their hearts 
were full of love and sympathy, and so they resolved to go once 
more and fill her wood-shed, as they could have the wood for 
hauling. 

"If any of you have spare clothing," said Jim, "you could pitch 
it on to the cart, it wouldn't go amiss." 

The shed was filled with wood, many useful garments left there, 
and everything fixed up comfortably, before they left on Hollyeve 
night. 

" One thing more," said Jim Lee, " and we're done ' wid the 
widder.' It is an old English custom, on ' Hollyeve/ to get vege- 
tables from the rich, and throw at the doors of the poor. It brings 
luck, they say; let's try it." 



20 ABOUT SOME BOYS IN THE QUEEN'S DOMINIONS. [January, 

Quite a decent load was begged, or borrowed, and dropped on 
the doorstep of Widow Green, who made the boys laugh, by rush- 
ing out, frightened, hands uplifted, and cap-strings flying, just as 
the cart hurried out of sight. 

" Come in, boys, to-night and see me settle up with father," said 
James ; " we'll have fun." 

" Will he like it ? " asked one, " your buying glass and hiring a 
man ? " 

" Of course he'll like it," said James ; " he's a business man him- 
self." 

At night, all the boys met Mr. Lee in his bright, cheerful library. 
James handed him a bill made out in due form, which he read 
aloud, standing under the gas-light. 

" John Lee, debtor to ' Independent Club ' twenty dollars for 
labor performed by them in putting Widow Green into shape for 
winter." 

Mr. Lee could not repress a laugh, as he read over the bill ; 
but he looked and felt much pleased. He had known, as all 
fathers should, just what his son was about ; but, with much wis- 
dom had not interfered. The business tact, the willingness to 
work, and the kind heart of his son were all very gratifying ; and 
the twenty dollars were promptly paid. 

" Now, boys," he said, " I am proud of you all, but don't intend 
preaching. It is Hollyeve, and I have had a nice supper laid for 
you on the dining-room table. Go down and enjoy it, and have 
a real good time. You will be happy, because you have been 
doing good." 

Before they ate, they made out their order for nine copies of the 
Magazine, and enclosed the money. The rest was laid aside to 
pay their bill of expenses, for glass, and to the man who framed 
the shanty. 

A merry evening followed, and at parting they gave three cheers 
for the " Queen Victoria," three for " Merry's Museum," and three 
for the " Independent Nine ! " 




i868.] 



GRANDMOTHER'S SPECS. 



21 




GRANDMOTHER'S SPECS. 







V 



ELL, I think that is polite ! Grandma 
expects me to sit still while she takes a 
nap instead of telling me stories. How 
selfish some people are." 

As she spoke, little Patty looked an- 
grily from the old lady nodding in her 
chair to the book in her lap, and felt very much 
injured because she couldn't have her own way. 
The rain pattered on the window-pane, the wind 
blew dismally, and the winter afternoon was fast deepening into 
twilight. It wasn't a cheerful scene either inside or out, and Patty 
couldn't decide whether to cry and wake grandma, or to go and 
do some mischief. . As she sat thinking about her wrongs, her eye 
wandered to the book again. 

" Stupid old pictures, I've seen 'em a dozen times, and am tired 
of 'em. But there is no other book here, and I mustn't leave the 
room. I wonder how they'd look through grandma's specs." 

Putting the glasses on her little nose, Patty turned a leaf and 
looked. Dear me, how very odd it was to be sure ! A minute ago 
she saw a cat and kittens on the page, and now there was a picture 
she had never seen. A sweet, pale-faced lady lay in a bed and 
was putting a little baby into the arms of an old lady who seemed 
promising something with a tender yet sorrowful look. 

" Why that's the way my dear mamma did when she gave me to 

grandma, the day she died ! Papa told me about it," cried Patty, 

very much surprised. Wondering what had come to her book, she 

eagerly turned over another leaf and there was a new picture. 

This was a still more curious one, for the figures seemed to 



22 GRANDMOTHER'S SPECS. [January, 

move. The same old lady was teaching the same baby to walk, so 
kindly, so patiently ; and the baby seemed to love her dearly, for 
it ran to her with eager, tottering little feet, and laughed with de- 
light when it was safe in her motherly arms. Several other pic- 
tures showed the good old lady caring for the same pretty baby in 
many ways ; watching over it when ill ; tending, teaching and amus- 
ing it taking many steps for it, thinking, working and praying for 
it, and devoting herself to it as faithfully as any mother. 




Next came pictures showing the baby a little girl, and the old 
lady still older, but as kind as ever. Judging from the pictures, 
the child was rather a careless, selfish little girl, for she seemed not 
to obey, and to leave many things undone. One of these pages 
showed this child running away and getting lost, because she was 
bid to do something she didn't like ; and the old lady was seen 
going after her and bringing her back and forgiving the naughty 
little girl. Another was where the child appeared to be nearly run 
over, and the old lady saved her, but was much hurt herself. 

When Patty saw that, she looked very sober, and the pettish 
expression left her face, as she said softly, 

" Yes, that's what grandma did for me ; and that's how she got 
so lame. Poor grandma, I wish I'd got her cane for her when she 
asked me." 



l868.] GRANDMOTHER'S SPECS. 23 

The last picture showed the old lady lying dead, and the child, a 
tall girl now, standing by her with a very sorrowful face that said 
as plainly as words, " Oh, why wasn't I kinder to her when she did 
so much for me ! " 

As Patty looked, her eyes grew so dim with tears that the page 
was all a blur, and, putting up her hand to wipe the drops away, 
the spectacles fell off and the strange pictures vanished. 

Patty sat quite still for several minutes, thinking of all the un- 
kind words she had said, the duties she had neglected, the loving 
acts she had left undone, and all she owed dear, kind, patient, 
grandma. She covered up her face and cried till her little hand- 
kerchief was quite wet, so full of repentant sorrow was she. Sud- 
denly she thought, " It isn't too late, she isn't gone, and there's 
time to be good to her now. What shall I do to show her how 
sorry I am ? " 

Wiping up her tears she looked about the room and saw plenty 
to do. The fire was nearly out, because Patty had forgotten to tell 
the maid to bring wood, and had lost grandma's cane without which 
she couldn't walk a step. Patty's playthings lay all about in the 
untidy way that troubled grandma. The yarn she had been asked 
to wind, hung in a tangle on the chair where she had left it. 
Grandma's knitting had dropped down and the stitches were half 
out, for Patty didn't bring the spectacles and without them she 
could not pick them up. Grandma's shawl was spread over Patty's 
doll, and the poor old lady had quietly gone to sleep and never 
asked for it though she looked chilly even in her nap. 

" How naughty I am to be so lazy and selfish, and disobedient. 
Dear grandma is too kind to punish me, but I ought to be punished, 
hard" said Patty, shaking herself and wondering how any one 
could be patient with her. 

Full of good resolutions she fell to work and turned over a new 
leaf at once, not waiting a minute or saying " I'll be good by and 
by." She cleaned up her playthings, found the cane and leaned it 
against grandma's chair all ready for her. She put back the spec- 
tacles, picked up the stitches and laid the knitting on the old lady's 
lap ; she folded the shawl softly round her, and grandma gave a 
little sigh as if the comfortable warmth pleased her. Then Patty 
built up a grand fire, swept the hearth, and sat down to wind the 
yarn. 

Darker and darker it grew outside as night came on ; harder 
blew the wind and faster fell the rain, but within it was bright and 



24 GRANDMOTHER'S SPECS. [January, 

warm, for the fire-light danced on the pleasant room, the placid old 
lady sleeping in her chair and the busy little girl patiently winding 
the tangle, till the great smooth ball was done. Very thoughtful 
was Patty's rosy face as she sat so still ; but that half hour did her 
much good, for she thought what she was and what she hoped to 
be, and prayed a very sincere little prayer that she might keep her 
resolution and be a faithful, loving child to grandma. 

When the old lady woke, she rubbed her eyes and looked about 
her, feeling as if the good fairies had been at work while she slept. 
And so they had, for the best and loveliest of household fairies are 
Love and Cheerfulness. Patty had drawn up the round table and 
quietly set out the little tea tray with the tiny cups and plates, the 
old-fashioned spoons and funny plump teapot that grandma liked ; 
had toasted the bread herself, just brown and nice, and got every- 
thing ready in the most cosey, tempting order one can imagine. 

" Well, deary, what does it all mean ? " cried grandma, smiling 
with surprise and pleasure, as she looked about her. 

" It means that I'm trying to be a good child and do my duty as 
I haven't done it for a long, long while ; " and Patty put her arms 
round grandma's neck with a little quiver in her voice that went 
straight to the old lady's heart. Standing so she told all that had 
happened, and grandma laughed and said it was only a dream. But 
Patty was sure it was true, only the spectacles wouldn't show any 
more of the strange pictures when she tried again. 

" Never mind, my darling, they show me the dearest, most duti- 
ful of little daughters, and I'm quite satisfied," said grandma, kiss- 
ing the childish face, which from that day made summer sunshine 
for her through the winter of old age. 




1868.] WHAT POLLY FOUND IN HER STOCKING. 2$ 




WHAT POLLY FOUND IN HER STOCKING. 

WITH the first pale glimmer, 

Of the morning red, 
Polly woke delighted 

And flew out of bed. 
To the door she hurried, 

Never stopped for clothes, 
Though Jack Frost's cold fingers 

Nipt her little toes. 
There it hung ! the stocking, 

Long and blue and full ; 
Down it quickly tumbled 

With a hasty pull. 
Back she capered, laughing, 

Happy little Polly ; 
For from out the stocking 

Stared a splendid dolly ! 
Next, what most she wanted, 

In a golden nut, 
With a shining thimble, 

Scissors that would cut ; 
Then a book all pictures, 

" Children in the wood." 
And some scarlet mittens 

Like her scarlet hood. 
Next a charming jump-rope, 

New and white and strong ; 
(Little Polly's stocking 

Though small was very long,) 



26 



WHAT POLLY FOUND IN HER STOCKING. [January, 

In the heel she fumbled, 

" Something soft and warm," 
A rainbow ball of worsted 

Which could do no harm. 
In the foot came bon-bons, 

In the toe a ring, 
And some seeds of mignonette 

Ready for the spring. 
There she sat at daylight 

Hugging close dear dolly ; 
Eating, looking, laughing, 

Happy little Polly ! 



THE ADVENTURES OF A WORSTED BOY. 

ONCE upon a time in a famous toy-shop window in New York, 
there was a Worsted Boy of a very dignified and aristocratic turn of 
mind. He was ' stiff-starched with self-esteem ; " he was unbend- 
ing in his disposition and cruel by nature. He was trying to sit in 
a rocking-chair, but, like a genuine Yankee, sat on the small of his 




back, with his feet extended like an awkward country beau. He 
wore a red jacket and pea-green trowsers. He sported a fine 
moustache, and he continually glanced at the mirror opposite. 
But he was in danger of the gout from sitting so much, for he 
never walked about, for the same reason that Jack would not eat 



1868.] THE ADVENTURES OF A WORSTED BOY. 27 

his supper. The Worsted Boy, however, would not confess this to 
be the reason. 

" Such a cluttered place," he growled, disdainfully, " one cannot 
walk in safety here ; I do hope sometime to find a position suited 
to my talents." 

" I don't find any trouble in getting about," said a beautiful 
Walking Doll, with whom the Worsted Boy was madly in love. 

" Oh it's very well for you," said the Worsted Boy, " for whom a 
path is cleared, or f6r that Black Boy up there, the ugly beast, who 
need only jump on his board all day; but I have more ambition." 

" Ho, ho ! " cried the Black Boy, who skipped all day and 
grinned and shook himself. " Wat's dat you say, down dere ? 
You lazy old woolly boy ! Le's see you dance like me ! Wat you 
good for, straightened out down dere ? " 

" Good for ! " cried the Worsted Boy. " What do you think your 
jumping amounts to ? And if I'm woolly, it is not in my head ! " 

" I'll have you know, sar," returned the Black Boy, " that if I do 
only dance for a living, I dance well, and I shall be sold out of dis 
yere place before you, sar ! " 

" You sold before me ! You can only grin and hop ; a monkey 
can do that." 

" Then a monkey can do what you can't. Wat you s'pose you 
made for ? Every one will be pleased with my efforts to amuse 
and keep me in safety. But you only stare and think of your 
looks ; the folks as buys you will kick you about and fling you 
under the sofa, and you'll end in the coal-scuttle ! " 

" Such vulgar talk ! " cried the Worsted boy " such insults ! " 

At this moment a man came into the store and bought the Black 
Boy, who gave a grin of triumph at his enemy as he went forth. 
Not long after, the Worsted Boy was also purchased. He was 
given to a little child who cared but little for him. She tried to 
teach him to read, and cuffed him for his stupidity. He was obliged 
to eat his dinner with the dog, which greatly disgusted him. But 
one day, being placed in the window, he looked across the street 
and saw, in the opposite house, the Black Boy ; and walking up 
and down the room, the beautiful Doll who had won his affections 
in his old home. 

Oh how his heart of cotton beat within him ! How his red 
worsted breast heaved with the sighs which were wafted toward 
that opposite window ! At last, he made friends with the dog in 
order to further his plans. 



28 THE ADVENTURES OF A WORSTED BOY. [January, 

" My friend," said he, that day at dinner, " have you observed 
that disgusting black boy opposite who stares this way so much ? " 

" Oh yes, I know whom you mean but a very good fellow, sir, 
I assure you," returned Carlo, with dignity. 

"Ah, yes ! of course," answered he of the red jacket, "but you 
know it is annoying to be so watched by one's neighbors. My 
friend, I have never sufficiently expressed the pleasure I feel in 
dining in your company. It is a great honor." 

"Yes," said Carlo. 

" Upon my word, a cool one!" thought the flatterer; but he 
began again. " Have you noticed the lovely Walking Doll in that 
house ? An old friend of mine, I may say an intimate friend." 

" Indeed ! " said Carlo, doggedly, but with some interest. 

" Yes, we are much attached to each other ; it is the grief of our 
lives to live thus apart. Could you not contrive, out of the good- 
ness of your kind heart, to bring her home to me ? " 

Now Carlo had himself become possessed of a friendly regard 
for the poor doll princess, and he suspected the truth of the Wor- 
sted Boy's story. He determined to do nothing contrary to the 
wishes of the Doll. However, he seemed to agree with the Boy's 
plan. He was a frequent visitor at the opposite house ; and, on 
his next visit, spoke to the doll princess of the Worsted Boy. He 
found that, far from having any affection for him, she despised him 
for his pride and indolence. 

" This Black Boy," said she, " who does what he can, is superior 
to him." 

Carlo further learned from the Black Boy, that the princess was 
in love with a Wooden Soldier, who had been disabled in the wars, 
and who returned her affection. Elated with his discoveries, Carlo 
returned to the Worsted Boy and told what he knew. The Boy 
was furious. The stitches gave way all over him, until he looked 
shabbier than the disabled soldier himself. 

" Take me to her at once," he cried ; " I will prove your stories 
false, and bear her away with me." 

Carlo, willing to see the fun, soon conveyed the Worsted Boy to 
the presence of the Walking Doll, who, however, took no notice of 
him, as he leaned in a sentimental attitude against a chair-leg, but 
continued her majestic walk. Maddened by this neglect, more of 
his stitches gave way. His heart's best emotions seemed in a fair 
way to gush forth. Fearful for him, Carlo conveyed him back to his 
position in the window, a decidedly worsted boy. 



l868.] THE ADVENTURES OF A WORSTED BOY. 29 

From this place, he saw the Wooden Soldier sitting in the oppo- 
site window with the doll princess. He saw how he told of the 
battle-fields he had helped win* and he saw the face of the doll 
grow pale from sympathy. Furious with jealousy, he longed for 
some disaster to overtake them. Not long after this, the two win- 
dows were open one fine spring morning, and a brisk breeze hav- 
ing carried away the Walking Doll's hat, the gallant Wooden Sol- 
dier sprang eagerly to save it, and fell out of the window to the 




pavement oeneath. Great was the exultation of the Worsted Boy. 
Knowing the leap would not injure his worsted body, he ventured 
to jump from his window, hoping to put an end to the Wooden 
Soldier. But the Doll, in the anxiety of her heart, had walked 
down-stairs and out the door, and was there before him. The Sol- 
dier only being partially stunned, soon recovered. The Walking 
Doll took him by his arm, and walked away with him. The Wor- 
sted Boy had fallen into a mud-puddle. He was fished out by 
two Irish boys who played foot-ball with him till he came to pieces, 
and there was an end to the Worsted Boy. The walking-doll, with 
her wooden soldier, were met by a very nice little girl who had not 
many toys. She took them home and placed them in a sunny win- 
dow, where they spent all their lives happily together. 

Here Carlo found them one day, and told their friend the Black 
Boy of their safety. This comforted him greatly, so that he was 
able to dance once more. He danced well for many years, making 
glad the hearts of many little children ; and when he was old, had 
a comfortable position given him on a mantel-piece, where he en- 
joyed the warmth of the fire, and grinned at the jokes and con- 
versation of the family. 

E. M. 



THE LOGGERS; OR, 



[January, 





THE LOGGERS, OR SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS 

OF MAINE. 

ST. CROIX, OR SCHOODIC RIVER. 

EAR FRANK : When I left you in the city, I 
promised to write "just as soon as I was well 
again." Then I hardly expected to see such a 
day ; for a more broken-down, disheartened 
specimen of boyhood could not be found in a 
journey to Rome. But now, thank God, and 
hard work, I am myselfand " much more." 

The greatest gymnast in our class would envy my muscle. Woe 
to any poor student whom I may think to take in hand ! But, seri- 
ously, Frank, I am so full of vigor and energy I long to " conquer a 
world," or do some less wonderful thing. I doubt if you, or any close 
student, ever conceived the exquisite enjoyment there is in full 
health ; and I only wish I could give you a part of my strength 
and elasticity. I certainly have enough for half a dozen. I long 
to shout, to climb, to lift up everything down-trodden, and to sing 
constant praises of what has made me labor in the open air. 

And now, Frank, if your health ever fails, if classical studies 
lose their relish, if you lose your cheerfulness, your trust in man, 
or the God who made you, go into the forest, and refresh, renew 
yourself as I have done. 

The day I left you, a puny baby, so nervous that the slamming 

of a door made my whole frame quiver, we called upon Dr. W , 

at the " Water Cure." He said I must not look into a book for a 
year, " he must let his brain rest while he gets a body, and that 
he can only do by exercising vigorously in the open air." 

The Boston doctors talked much in the same style, only, of 



1868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 31 

course, throwing in a few prescriptions of blue pill, etc. Fortu- 
nately an uncle of mine from " down east " came to the hotel where 
we were stopping ; and he at once insisted that I should go with 
him. " He would restore and make a man of me ; and I might 
burn all the Latin prescriptions before I started." 

To me there was something inspiriting, magnetic in this man's 
presence. I felt sure he would help me, and in my heart hailed 
him as a deliverer. There was no time to be lost. My father 
gave me encouragement and a purse, my mother a tearful blessing 
and many kisses. Thus equipped, I left them for the " east and 
thewildwood." 

I have thought of you daily ; and, knowing the interest you take 
in all my movements, have jotted down, each week, something con- 
cerning this wild life in the forest, so common here, yet so odd, 
so unlike anything I had ever conceived of, that I am almost sure 
you will enjoy it; and if not, why, all is, I can pity you, and take 
praise to myself for enlightening you upon the subject of "lum- 
ber-making down east." 

This uncle of mine is a great lumber dealer, and during the win- 
ter employs three or four hundred men to cut the logs in the forest, 
and about half as many in summer to manufacture them for the 
market. 

By his advice, I went into the woods with the men in early win- 
ter, and worked with them constantly for several months, living 
upon simple diet, sleeping upon a bed of boughs, breathing the 
pure air of heaven, but with only coarse, laboring men for compan- 
ions, and yet the winter has been delightful, logging and lumber- 
making. 

In this eastern country whole townships are sometimes owned 
by one individual, where human settlement may not be found. 
Indeed, it is much preferred no one should reside upon them, as 
the danger from fires in the dry season is very great, oftentimes 
overuhning large tracts of fine timber in a few hours. 

The owners of the land cut as many logs as they can profitably 
manufacture, and then let " chances " to other mill-owners, who pay 
"stumpage" for all they cut. Property in wild lands is more 
prized here than any other. Excepting from fires, there is no dan- 
ger of loss, as there is a continual growth, and so many kinds of 
wood, all of which, sooner or later, will come into use. The pine 
on many lands, is completely cut off. Spruce now is filling its 
place, while hemlock is not despised as it once was. Hackmatack 
and cedar are used for some purposes. 



32 THE LOGGERS; OR, [January, 

During the summer, men are sent forward to reconnoitre and fix 
upon the best places for locating the camps for the winter use. 
These men are provided with compasses, axes, and provision 
enough to last a few days, frequently slung in a coarse bag across 
their shoulders. 

The best place for the road is selected, and this requires good 
judgment, as much of the success of the winter's work depends 
upon a convenient road, with an inclined plane toward the river or 
stream where the logs are to be left upon the ice. This is formed 
by cutting away all the growth from the stream back as far as they 
intend operating, a little more than the width of the logging teams. 

The logs are piled up on the sides ; but no levelling is done, as 
snow is the agent to do that. 

The next thing is to clear a suitable place for the camp, and 
hovel for the cattle. The most desirable location is near a spring, 
or brook of running water, as so many men and cattle require a 
great deal. The camp is made of logs, fitted firmly together by 
hewing one side of each. The top is covered with cedar shingles, 
or splints, oftentimes six feet in length. All the little crevices where 
wind or snow might come in, are fitted with moss. No chimney is 
built, but an opening left in the roof for the smoke to escape. 

The size of the camp and hovel depends upon the number of 
men to be accommodated. If a " single team " of four horses, 
and six or eight men, the camp would be about twelve or sixteen 
feet. If for a " double team," eighteen by thirty-six feet, the fire 
occupying the centre. The "berths" or sleeping places extend 
along each side ; and are simply poles laid along, covered first with 
brush, and then smoothly spread with hemlock, or fir foliage, and 
again, with heavy woollen quilts. Along the foot of the beds ex- 
tends a rough wooden bench fitted with legs, and called, in back 
woods phraseology, the " Deacon seat." At the time of eating, 
this serves as table ; the men seating themselves upon the floor. 
While sleeping, the feet are stretched under it, to enjoy the warmth 
of the great fire in the centre. 

The usual time for the men to go into the woods, and com- 
mence the winter work is about Christmas. The ground is sel- 
dom sufficiently frozen, and covered with snow before that time. 

And now, Frank, commences my own experience in " Camp life," 
and I give it to you, just as I pencilled it down. 

(To be continued.) 



1 868.] AUNT SUE'S SCRAP BAG. 33 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP BAG. 

AN accident on an Alabama railroad recently precipitated several 
cars down an embankment. The wild beasts of a circus company 
were in cages upon some of these cars, and were let loose in the 
general smash. A lion, three bears, two tigers, a hyena, and hip- 
popotamus were liberated, and produced great excitement. One 
of the bears getting hold of a beautiful American deer made short 
work of her. After great difficulty all of the animals were secured, 
with the exception of the hyena, who showed fight ; she was finally 
knocked senseless by a blow from a heavy piece of wood and 
thrown into a cage. 

PICTURES. An old lady was admiring the beautiful picture 
called " Saved." " It's no wonder," said she, " that the poor child 
fainted, after pulling that great dog out of the water." 

" WHAT is TRUTH ? " The question was proposed at a Deaf 
and Dumb Institution, when one of the boys drew a straight line. 
" And what is falsehood ? " the answer was, a crooked line. 

A CLERGYMAN asked some children, " Why do we say in the 
Lord's Prayer, ' Who art in heaven,' since God is everywhere ? " 
He saw a little drummer who looked as if he could give an answer, 
and turned to him for it : " Well, little soldier, what say you ? " 
" Because it's headquarters." 

DURING the removal of articles from the Paris Exhibition, in the 
Italian section, a workman called on one of his comrades to assist 
him in lifting an immense cheese, which had stood against a wall, 
and they found that the article was as light as a drum. A family 
of rats had installed themselves in it, and nothing but a mere shell 
remained. 

MRS. PARTINGTON says, that if she should be cast away, she 
would prefer meeting with the catastrophe in the Bay of Biscuits, 
for then she should have something to live on. 

A CYNICAL old bachelor who firmly believes that all women have 
something to say on all subjects, recently asked a female friend : 
"Well, madam, what do you hold on this question of female suf- 
frage ? " To him the lady responded calmly : " Sir, I hold my 
tongue." 



34 AUNT SUE'S SCRAP BAG. [January, 

AN old lady in New Haven whose hen lately quit laying, named 
her Macduff, so that she would " lay on." 

TELL a man in a single word that he took a late breakfast. 
At-ten-u-ate. 

THE language of the sole creaking boots. 

WHAT kin is water to milk ? Pump-kin. 

WHY does a lady wear fur around her neck ? Because she docs 
not like to leave her chin chilly. 

SUPPOSING a heavy shower to have just given over, what resem- 
blance does it bear to the tail of a fox ? One is the end of a hard 
rain, the other is the end of a rey-nard. 

AN Irishwoman in Lowell, last week, having heard that gas was 
cheaper to burn than kerosene, took her can to the gas office, and 
reaching it up to the clerk, said, " I hear yez has gas to sell ; I'll 
take a pint." 

WHIP ME QUICK AND LET ME GO. A youngster came home after 
having a glorious time in the puddle, his face all aglow, and rub- 
ber boots full of water. The punishment of staying in the house 
for the remainder of the day did not seem very hard at first ; but 
as his little heart warmed up with the recollections of the morning, 
when he had waded deeper than any of his playmates dared, he 
could bear the recollection no longer, and went to his mother, say- 
ing, "Please, mother, whip me, and let me go out again." 

THE STEPMOTHER OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN still lives near Farm- 
ington, Coles County, Illinois, in a one-story log cabin containing 
two rooms. Aunt Sally Lincoln, as the villagers call her, is now 
eighty years old, and very feeble. She is a plain, unsophisticated 
old lady, with a frank, open countenance, a warm heart, full of 
kindness towards others, tall and slender, and in many respects very 
much like> the late President enough so to be his own mother. 
And, as he was but nine years of age at the time of her marriage 
with his father, it is not improbable that she had much to do in 
forming his character. She still speaks of Abraham as her " good 
boy," and praises his obedience. She says " Abraham and his 
stepbrother never quarrelled but once, and that you know is a good 
deal for stepbrothers." About a mile and a half from her old cabin 
is the grave of Thomas Lincoln, father of the President. It is 
marked by a piece of clapboard, on which is rudely carved only 
the initials " T. L." 



i868." 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



35 




A HAPPY New Year all round, 
and best wishes to every one, espe- 
cially those who give old Merry a 
welcome in his new dress. Those 
who knew him years ago will, we 
hope, lend him a hand for old ac- 
quaintance sake ; and the young 
folks will find him such a pleasant 
companion, that they will open their 
doors to him, and make a little place 
on their library shelves for Uncle 
Merry, who, in spite of time, keeps 
his heart young, and dearly loves 
the children. 

A new friend wishes to be ad- 
mitted to the circle, and cousin 
Tribulation shall have a place. 



DEAR MERRYS : As a subject 
appropriate to the season, I want to 
tell you about a New Year's break- 
fast which I had when I was a little 



girl. What do you think it was ? 
A slice of dry bread and an apple. 
This is how it happened, and it is a 
true story, every word. 

As we came down to breakfast 
that morning, with very shiny faces 
and spandy clean aprons, we found 
father alone in the dining-room. 

"Happy New Year, papa! 
Where is mother ? " we cried. 

" A little boy came begging and 
said they were starving at home, so 
your mother went to see and ah, 
here she is." 

As papa spoke, in came mamma, 
looking very cold, rather sad, and 
very much excited. 

" Children, don't begin till you 
hear what I have to say," she cried ; 
and we sat staring at her, with the 
breakfast untouched before us. 

" Not far away from here, lies a 
poor woman with a little new-born 
baby. Six children are huddled 
into one bed to keep fronf freezing, 
for they have no fire. There is 
nothing to eat over there ; and the 
oldest boy came here to tell me 
they were starving this bitter cold 
day. My little girls, will you give 
them your breakfast, as a New 
Year's gift ? " 

We sat silent a minute, and 
looked at the nice, hot porridge, 
creamy milk, and good bread and 
butter ; for we were brought up like 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. [January, 



English children, and never drank 
tea or coffee, or ate anything but 
porridge for our breakfast. 

" I wish we'd eaten it up," 
thought I, for I was rather a selfish 
child, and very hungry. 

" I'm so glad you come before we 
began," said Nan, -cheerfully. 

" May I go and help carry it to 
the poor, little children ? "' asked 
Beth, who had the tenderest heart 
that ever beat under a pinafore, 

" I can carry the lassy pot," said 
little May, proudly giving the thing 
she loved best." 

"And I shall take all the por- 
ridge," I burst in, heartily ashamed 
of my first feeling. 

" You shall put on your things 
and help me, and when we come 
back, we'll get something to eat," 
said mother, beginning to pile the 
bread and butter into a big basket. 

We were soon ready, and the 
procession set out. First, papa, 
with a basket of wood on one arm 
and coal on the other ; mamma next, 
with a bundle of warm things and 
the teapot ; Nan and I carried a pail 
of hot porridge between us, and 
each a pitcher of milk ; Beth 
brought some cold meat, May the 
" lassy pot," and her old hood and 
boots ; and Betsy, the girl, brought 
up the rear with a bag of potatoes 
and some meal. 

Fortunately it was early, and we 
went along back streets, so few peo- 
ple saw us, and no one laughed at 
the funny party. 

What a poor, bare, miserable 
place it was, to be sure, broken 
windows, no fire, ragged clothes, 
wailing baby, sick mother, and a 
pile of p?.le, hungry children cud- 
dled under one quilt, trying to keep 
warm. How the big eyes stared 
and the blue lips smiled as we came 
in! 

. " Ah, mein Gott ! it is the good 
angels that come to us ! " cried the 
poor woman, with tears of joy. 

" Funny angels, in woollen hoods 
and red mittens," said I ; and they 
all laughed. 

Then we fell to work, and in fif- 



teen minutes, it really did seem as 
if fairies had been at work there. 
Papa made a splendid fire in the 
old fireplace and stopped up the 
broken window with his own hat 
and coat. Mamma set the shiver- 
ing children round the fire, and 
wrapped the poor woman in warm 
things. Betsey and the rest of us 
spread the table, and fed the starv- 
ing little ones. 

" Das ist gute ! " " Oh, nice ! " 
" Der angel Kinder ! " cried the 
poor things as they ate and smiled 
and basked in the warm blaze. 
We had never been called " angel- 
children " before, and we thought it 
very charming, especially I who had 
often been told I was "a regular 
Sancho." What fun it was ! Papa, 
with a towel for an apron, fed the 
smallest child ; mamma dressed the 
poor little new-born baby as ten- 
derly as if it had been her own. 
Betsey gave the mother gruel and 
tea, and comforted her with assur- 
ance of better days for all. Nan, 
Lu, Beth, and May flew about 
among the seven children, talking 
and laughing and trying to under- 
stand their funny, broken English. 
It was a very happy breakfast, 
though we didn't get any of it ; and 
when we came away, leaving them 
all so comfortable, and promising to 
bring clothes and food by and by. 
I think there were not in all the 
city four merrier children than the 
hungry little girls who gave away 
their breakfast, and contented them- 
selves with a bit of bread and an 
apple on New Year's day. 

COUSIN TRIBULATION. 



Adele has certainly won a place 
in the circle by taking the Museum 
for five years, and is heartily wel- 
come. Won't she send us glimpses 
of life in Minnesota ? 

Are the Merrys all so busy mak- 
ing presents that they cannot send 
us a line ? We hope some of them 
will tell us how they spent their 
Christmas. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



37 




A HAPPY New Year to you all, 
dear puzzlers, and many of them. It 
is my private opinion that we are 
going to have a right royal, merry 
time of it in 1868 : rebuses, laby- 
rinths, music, new designs, and lots 
of fun ! Don't be backward about 
coming forward ; walk in, all of 
you, and bring your cousins, and 
tell your cousins to bring their par- 
ticular friends. 

I have to thank my correspond- 
ents for making my " labor of love " 
so pleasant to me in 1867, not 
a single complaint, nothing but 
good-humor, affection, and loving- 
kindness. Oh ! I tell you ! the 
Merry s are just about the nicest 
community on the face of the globe ! 
Let's have some more of them. 



JENNIE M. answers correctly the 
greatest number of the November 
puzzles, and wins her third prize : 
her first prize was won Sep. 1861. 



QUESTIONS, ENIGMAS, CHARADES. 
ETC. 

1. I am composed of 5 letters : 
My i, 5, 2, 3 is generally i, 2, 5, 

3 ; some people like a little 3, 2, i, 

4 added when they are stewed. 

My whole is a useful animal. 

Z. T. Hodges, 

2. I am composed of 28 letters : 
My 3, 25, 22, 24, 21, 11, 19 resem- 
bles an opossum. 

My 20, 4, 17, 12, 9, 7> 15, 27, 16 
means flattering. 

My 13, 8, 23, 1 6, 9, 26 is a wood- 
pecker. 

My 8, 2, 28,4, 10, 18, 19 is a min- 
eral. 

My 6, 5, i, 20, 14 means thorough- 
ly damp. 

My whole comprises two words 
which may be found in the dic- 
tionary. . Forrest. 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[January, 



3. 1000100010002509001002501000- 
250900160. 

Osceola. 



4. 6050250160, 

5. 10580150. 



Bittersweet. 
Violet Forest. 



6. Transpose a charmer into a bird. 

Fred. 

7. Transpose a rascal into a coin. 

Sigma. 

8. Transpose a hard substance into 

something soft. 

Harrie Bowles. 

9. Transpose a recess into a spice. 

Angle P. 

10. To gain ; a pronoun, and a 
boy's nickname make a girl's 
name. Cis. 

11. Find any number of verbs not 
exceeding 21 letters out of 
which may be made every word 
of the 1 4th verse of the 4th 
chapter of Proverbs. C. 

12. My first is a toy, my second is 
an important word, my third is 
a weapon ; these all read for- 
wards and backwards the same, 
and the initials and finals, and 
from corner to corner read the 
same as my first. C. F. W. 

13. Euensealee Uuayeelelleyeam. 

Rena. 

14. Dare hist nad dusty ti, 

Dan loves ti sa ouy amy, 
Fi ouy teg het zuplez zerip, 
Rent ouy lilw heva oury apy. 
Ruble Linden. 

15. I am a word of eight letters, 
containing i, a command ; 2, 
an article of dress ; 3, a pas- 
sion ; 4, a pile ; 5, ardor ; 6, to 
cure ; 7, something used in 
play ; 8, a seat ; 9, a head ; 10, 



a loud noise ; 1 1, a gentle noise ; 

12, to fondle ; 13, a nickname ; 

14, to strike, and 15, a beverage. 

Eo ise. 



WORDS ENIGMATICALLY EX- 
PRESSED. 

1 6. Point, circle. A. R. T. 

17. Mother attempt greenbacks. 

Lizzie E. N. 

1 8. Sport an associate. Comet. 

19. Solitary part. Minnehaha. 

20. Curtail a fish, transpose and 
leave an animal. Fred. 

21. Behead one weapon and leave 
another. Silver Bugle. 

Fill the following blanks with the 
same words transposed. 

22. the coward to desert 

the army. Snowdrop. 

23. She did not look because 

she wore in her hair. 

Lulie C. 

24. He them by in 

to our . S. Harp. 

25. Those who knew the clergyman 
could tell through- 
out the . Minx. 

Give the authors of the following 
quotations. 

26. Fine by degrees and beautiful- 
ly less. 

27. A fool at forty is a fool in- 
deed. 



Correct the following sentences. 

28. "My dear child you are mis- 
taken." 

29. " He didn't read but one book 
all day." 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



30. Wlio Who 




tliro-cLgli He He 



Tlae 





~nr*^^-r 

. JLroy 



tlie Crete 




his 




Aunt Sue. 



Answers to the above must 
reach ui$ before the Zth of Feb- 
ruary. Those received later 
will not be credited. 

Send puzzles, answers, etc., 
intended for THE DRAWER 
(not for the chat\ as usual, to 
"AuxT SUE," Box in P.O., 
Brooklyn, N. Y. 

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN NOVEM- 
BER NUMBER. 

278. The discovery of America by 
Columbus. 

279. Incendiaries. 

280. Harpsichord. 



281. R would make an ant rant. 

282. Patience is a virtue, 

So exercise it here, 
And study -well this puzzle, 
Till the answer does appear. 

283. Permit, mitre, rite. 

284. Bear, ear. 

285. Stoat, toast. 

286. Bestow. 

287. Lincoln. 

288. Molten. 

289. Willow. 

290. Calculate. 

291. Thornback. 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[January, 



292. Albicore. 

293. Osprey. 

294. Thrush. 

295. Nightshade. 

296. Violet. 

297. Iris (rainbow). 

298. Iceland moss. 

299. Degenerates. 

300. Redintegrate. 

301. Meritoriousness. 

302. Charioteers. 

303. Bread, beard, debar. 

304. Respect, sceptre, spectre. 

305. Rove, over. 

306. They are the dying embers of 
the year. 

307. Shakspeare (" As you like it ") 

308. Nathaniel Lee. 

Of the above Puzzles 
JEANNIE M. answers all but 282. 
F. X. S- answers all but 287, 294. 
Max answers all but 282, 306, 308. 
Belle answers all but 287, 291, 297. 

Gilbert answers all but 287, 297, 298, 
308. 

Robbie Eddowes answers all but 282, 
287, 290, 292, 294, 308. 

Ixia answers all but 287, 289, 291, 
294, 3 6 > 3 8 - 

C. W. J. answers all but 282, 287, 
289, 294, 296, 298, 300, 301, 306. 

Shooting-Star answers all but 282, 
287, 289, 291, 292,293, 294, 296, 
307, 308. 



Hero answers all but 282, 291, 292, 
296, 297, 299, 300, 301, 302, 307, 
308. 

Hassan answers all but 278, 279, 
282, 283, 288, 290, 293, 295, 304, 
305, 307, 38. 

F. B. C. answers all but 278, 279, 
208. 



NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 

Hero. I have no photograph of 
you. The quotations are included 
in the puzzles. The three you men- 
tion have left us. 

C. W. J. Has not a "rod" 

" wrought wonders " ? 

Eva V. B. Sorry you should 
have had your trouble for nothing, 
but we don't want any enigmas that 
embrace more than thirty letters. 

Shooting-Star. The astronomers 
announced your appearance in No- 
vember. 

Robbie Eddowes. I am waiting 
for your address that I may send 
you your prize. 

Belle. The " Ranz des vaches " 
which is generally supposed to be a 
single air, stands in Switzerland for 
a class of melodies, the literal mean- 
ing of which is " cow-rows." The 
German word is Kureihen rows 
of cows. It derives its origin from 
the way in which the cows march 
home at milking time. The cow- 
herd goes before, keeping every 
straggler in its place by the tones 
of his horn. 

Those sending " quotations "^ will 
please only send the most familiar, 

Thanks for enigmas, etc., to F. 
B. C., Auntie, Hero, Belle, Hassan, 
F. R. S., Ixia, Shooting-Star, and 
Teannie M. 




VOL. I.] 



FEBRUARY, 1868 



[NO. 2. 




MY LITTLE FRIEND. 

LIVE high up in a city house all alone. My 
room is a cosey little place, though there is 
nothing very splendid in it, only my pictures 
and books, my flowers and my little friend. 
When I began to live there, I was very busy and 
therefore very happy ; but by and by, when my 
hurry was over, and I had more time to myself, I often felt lonely. 
When I ate my meals I used to wish for a pleasant companion 
to eat with me ; and when I sat by the fire evenings, I thought 
how much more social it would be if some one sat opposite. I 
had many friends and callers through the day, but the evenings 
were often rather dull ; for I couldn't read much, and didn't care 
to go out in the stormy weather. 

I was wishing for a cheerful friend one night, when all of a sud- 
den I found one ; for, sitting on my hand, I saw a plump, jolly- 
looking fly. He sat quietly staring at me, with a mild little hum, 
as if to say, 

" How are you ? You wanted a friend, and here I am. Will 
you have me ? " 

Of course I would, for I liked him directly, he was so cheery and 
confiding, and seemed as glad to see me as I was to see him. All 
his mates were dead and gone, and he was alone, like myself. So 

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by H. B. FULLKB, in the Clerk'g 
Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



42 MY LITTLE FRIEND. [February, 

I waggled one ringer, by way of welcome, fearing to shake my 
hand, lest he should tumble off and feel hurt at my reception. He 
seemed to understand me, and buzzed again, evidently saying, 

" Thank you, ma'am ; I should like to stay in your warm room, 
and amuse you for my board. I wont disturb you, but do my best 
to be a good little friend." 

So the bargain was struck, and he stopped to tea. I found that 
his manners had been neglected ; for he was inclined to walk over 
the butter, drink out of the cream pot, and put^his fingers in the 
jelly. A few taps with my spoon taught him to behave with more 
propriety, and he sipped a drop of milk from the waiter with a 
crumb of sugar, as a well-bred fly should do. 

On account of his fine voice,,! named him Buzz, and we soon 
got on excellently together. He seemed to like his new quarters, 
and after exploring every corner of the room, he chose his favorite 
haunts and began to enjoy himself. I always knew where he was, 
for he kept up a constant song, humming and buzzing, like a little 
kettle getting ready to boil. 

On sunny days, he amused himself by bumping his head against 
the window, and watching what went on outside. It would have 
given me a headache ; but he seemed to enjoy it immensely. Up 
in my hanging basket of ivy he made his bower, and sat there on 
the moss Basking in the sunshine, as luxuriously as any gentleman 
in his conservatory. He was interested in the plants, and exam- 
ined them daily with great care, walking over the ivy leaves, grub- 
bing under the moss, and poking his head into the unfolding hya- 
cinth buds to see how they got on. 

The pictures, also, seemed to attract his attention, for he spent 
much time skating over the glasses and studying the designs. 
Sometimes I would find him staring at my Madonna, as if he said, 
" What in the world are all those topsey-turvey children about ? " 
Then he'd sit in the middle of a brook, in a water-color sketch by 
Vautin, as if bathing his feet, or seem to be eating the cherry which 
one little duck politely offers another little duck, in Oscar Pletch's 
Summer Party. He frequently kissed my mother's portrait, and 
sat on my father's bald head, as if trying to get out some of the 
wisdom stored up there, like honey in an ill-thatched bee-hive. My 
bronze Mercury rather puzzled him, for he could not understand 
why the young gentleman didn't fly off when he had four wings and 
seemed in such a hurry. 

I'm afraid he was a trifle vain, for he sat before the glass a great 



l868.] MY LITTLE FRIEND. 43 

| 

deal, and I often saw him cleaning his proboscis, and twiddling 
his feelers, and I know he was " prinking," as we say. The books 
pleased him, too, and he used to run them over, as if trying to 
choose which he would read, and never seemed able to decide. 
He would have nothing to say to the fat French Dictionary, or my 
^English Plays, but liked Goethe and Schiller, Emerson and Brown- 
ing, as well as I did. Carlyle didn't suit him, and Richter evi- 
dently made his head-ache. But Jean Ingelow's Poems delighted 
him, and so did her " Stories Told to a Child." " Fairy Bells " he 
often listened to, and was very fond of the pictures in a photograph 
book of foreign places and great people. 

He frequently promenaded on the piazza, of a little Swiss chalet, 
standing on the mantelpiece, and thought it a charming residence 
for a single gentleman like himself. The closet delighted him ex- 
tremely, and he buzzed in the most joyful manner when he got 
among the provisions, for we kept house together. Such revels as 
he had in the sugar bowl ! such feasts of gingerbread and grapes ; 
such long sips of milk, and sly peeps into every uncovered box and 
dish. Once I'm afraid he took too much cider, for I found him ly- 
ing on his back, kicking and humming like a crazy top, and he 
was very queer all the rest of that day ; so I kept the bottle corked 
after that. But his favorite nook was among the ferns in the vase 
which a Parian dancing girl carried. She stood just over the stove 
on one little toe, rattling some castanets, which made no sound, 
and never getting a step farther for all her prancing. This was 
a warm and pretty retreat for Buzz, and there he spent much of 
his time, swinging on the ferns, sleeping snugly in the vase, or 
warming his feet in the hot air that blew up, like a south wind from 
the stove. 

I don't believe there was a happier fly in Boston than my friend 
Buzz, and I grew fonder and fonder of him every day ; for he 
never got into mischief, but sung his cheery song, no matter what 
the weather was, and made himself agreeable. Then he was so in-. 
terested in all I did, it was delightful to have him round. When 
I wrote he came and walked about over my paper to see that it 
was right, peeped into my ink-stand, and ran after my pen. He 
never made silly or sharp criticisms on my stories, but appeared to 
admire them very much; so I am sure he was a good judge. 
When I sewed he sat in my basket, or played hide-and-seek in. the. 
folds of my work, talking away all the while in the most sociable 
manner. He often flew up all of a sudden, and danced about in 



44 MY LITTLE FRIEND. [February, 

I 

the air, as if he was in such a jolly mood he couldn't keep still, and 
wanted me to come and play with him. But, alas ! I had no wings, 
and could only sit stupidly still, and laugh at his pranks. That 
was his exercise, for he never went out, and only took a sniff of air 
now and then when I opened the windows. 

Well, little Buzz and I lived together many weeks and never 
got tired of one another, which is saying a good deal. At Christ- 
mas I went home for a week and, left my room to take care of it- 
self. I put the hyacinths into the closet to be warm, and dropped 
the curtain, so the frost should not nip my ivy ; but I forgot Buzz. 
I really would have taken him with me, or carried him down to a 
neighbor's room to be taken care of while I was away, but I never 
thought of him in the hurry of getting my presents and myself 
ready. Off I went without even saying "good-by," and never 
thought of my little friend till Freddy, my small nephew, said to 
rae one evening at dusk, 

"Aunt Weedy, tell me a story." 

So I began to tell him about Buzz, and all of a sudden I cried 
out, 

" Mercy on me ! I'm afraid he'll die of cold while I'm gone." 

It troubled me a good deal, and I wanted to know how the poor 
little fellow was so much, that I would have gone to see, if I had 
not been so far away. But it would be rather silly to hurry away 
twenty miles to look after one fly : so I finished my visit, and then 
went back to my room, hoping to find Buzz alive and well in spite 
of the cold, 

Alas, no ! my little friend was gone. There he lay on his back 
on the mantelpiece, his legs meekly folded, and his wings stiff and 
still. He had evidently gone to the warm place, and been sur- 
prised when the heat died out and left him to freeze. My poor 
little Buzz had sung his last song, danced his last dance, and 
gone where the good flies go. I was very sorry, and buried him 
among the ivy roots, where the moss lay green above him, the sun 
shone warmly on him, and the bitter cold could never come. I 
miss him very much ; when I sit writing, I miss his cheerful voice 
and busy wings ; at meals there is no tidy little body to drink up 
spilt drops and eat the crumbs ; in the evenings, when I sit alone, 
I want him more than ever, and every day as I water my plants, I 
say, softly. 

" Grow green, ivy, lie lightly, moss, shine warmly, sun, and make 
his last bed pleasant to my little friend." L. M. ALCOTT. 



i868.] 



TWO WAYS OF BEING MANLY. 



45 





TWO WAYS OF BEING MANLY. 

(Conclusion) 

RS. DUEOIS was a lady ; George saw that at a glance, 
notwithstanding her plain, almost mean clothing, and 
the poverty-stricken aspect of her home. She had 
D no sooner ascertained that her darling was safe than 



she turned to George and said, 

" You have saved her life. I cannot thank you as I ought, as I 
would ; but let me at least provide for you a change of garments, 
that you may not suffer in consequence of your noble, manly act. " 

" Oh, maman ! " cried Louis, " see, she opens her eyes. She 
knows us, la petite does. That is George, Louis, the good, good 
George ; who was kind to me, and saved you. How shy she is ; 
that's because some bad boys do tease her sometimes." 

In a few moments George had exchanged his dripping clothes 
for a suit belonging to Louis, which, as might be expected, left a 
large margin of legs and arms uncovered. A cap, just perched 
upon the top of his head, and a coarse shawl completed his equip- 
ment ; and in this array he must walk through one of the principal 
streets of Montville before he could get home. 

" Never mind," he thought, " it's all in a good cause ; and it's a 
good thing for me that laughs and queer looks don't hurt a chap 
really, if they do sting a little inside j so start home quick, George 
Grey." 

He could hardly free himself, however, from Louis, who clung to 
him, pouring out a torrent of excited thanks in a confused medley 
of French and English, till Mrs. Dubois interfered to release him. 

For a little distance he walked homeward without meeting any 
one but a small boy, who greeted him with a broad stare, ending 
in a broader grin. Presently, however, he heard the sound of 
wheels behind him. He did not look up, but the boy who was 
driving past him in a wagon did look down, and quickly reining 
in his pony, said, 



46 TWO WAYS OF BEING MANLY. [February, 

" Hallo-knight errant ! What's up now ? Have you been in 
quest of more adventures, and have you been metamorphosed or 
enchanted by some evil fairy or witch ? " 

In few words George told his story, and Clarotace Carlton said, 

" Bravo, George, you are* a good fellow : first, to encounter the 
strongest and worst boy in the school ; second, to risk your life to 
save a child, and bravest and best of all, to be willing to walk 
home in a rig that would scare all the crows in the country. Jump 
in ; I'll take you home, and more than that, I'll see that Ned Par- 
ker doesn't impose upon little Frenchy any more. Comical little 
peppercorn, isn't he, though, with his pirouettes, his gestures, and 
his jumble of French adjectives and English adverbs ? But I liked 
him all the better for defying Ned. His reign in our school is 
over. See if I don't take the wind out of his sails ! " 

When George reached home, he thanked Clarence most heartily 
for bringing him thither, and said good-by to him. 

" Not so fast, old chap ; I'm coming in too. Can't trust you, 
you see, to tell the whole truth." 

So saying, he followed George into the house, and gave to his 
astonished parents an absurd account of the whole affair, and then 
bowed and laughed himself out of doors, leaving George to tell his 
story and exchange his grotesque rig for his own clothes. 

" I was sure," said Mrs. Grey, " that you had some good reason 
for being late." 

" And I am glad," said his father, " that you are ready to defend 
and help the weak. It is far more manly to defend than to op- 
press." 

" I will go to-morrow and see your new friends, George, and find 
out how your golden-haired princess, as Clarence calls her, is, 
after her impromptu bath." 

" Oh, thank you, mother, the very thing I wanted to ask you 
to do, and I know Louis will not say that you are " old and 
proud.' " 

Meantime, in the little cottage by the riverside, Mrs. Dubois was 
rejoicing over her darling, who, though pale and languid from the 
shock and fright she had received, was more loving and winning 
than ever before, and clung to her mother, as though she could not 
part from her a moment. As for Louis, his excitement seemed 
rather to increase, and he mingled his account of George's inter- 
ference in his behalf with so many angry exclamations against Ned 
Parker, that his mother said to him, 



1 868.] TWO WAYS OF BEING MANLY. 47 

" If you would be like George Grey, you must be more forgiv- 
ing." 

" I will be what you call for-giv-en, everything but frog-eaten, 
he mean laugh fun they call it." 

The next day Mrs. Grey called, excusing and introducing herself 
at the same time, by saying that she was George Grey's mother, 
and had come to inquire after the little girl. Her manner was so 
kind and cordial, so entirely free from all attempt at patronage, 
that Mrs. Dubois was wpn at once, and told her more fully the 
same story Louis had told George. 

At the dinner-table that day Mrs. Grey said, 

" I've seen your little princess, George, and she quite won my 
heart with her soft, shy way of saying George, and her pretty, 
broken prattle. As for Mrs. Dubois, she reminds me of some one, 
who it is, I cannot recall. Her story is sad. American born and 
bred, she went abroad at the age of twenty-two as governess, met, 
and soon after married with the full approbation of her friends, a 
rich manufacturer ; lived a few happy and prosperous years with 
her husband, when he died insolvent, leaving her penniless with 
two children. She returned to New York, hoping to find her only 
brother, whom she represents as a bachelor, eccentric, but kind- 
hearted, with whom she had not kept up much intercourse since 
her marriage. She has not been able to find any trace of him. 
She came to Montville because her fellow-passenger, Mrs. Lee, ad- 
vised her to do so, in preference to remaining in any large city ; also 
knowing she could have the cottage she lives in at a small rent." 

" What is her brother's name ? " asked Mr. Grey. 

" Drayton." 

" Drayton ! why, Emily, surely that is the name of stop let 
me see how strange, if it should be so ! " and .with these incoher- 
ent remarks, Mr. Grey rose hastily from the table, and took out 
from his desk a package of letters, labelled, " Brother Henry, New 
Orleans," from one of which he read the following passage, 

" We are most pleasantly situated here in Mr. Drayton's house. 
He is a friend of my partner's ; and as Amy has won his interest by 
her resemblance to a lost friend of his, he kindly took us in, in our 
dilemma about finding a winter home. He is a bachelor ; hence, 
I think he gains by the arrangement, as well as ourselves." 

" Oh, father," cried George, " he must be her brother ! Please 
telegraph at once to Uncle Henry." 

" Certainly, my boy, with no more delay than is needful for me 



48 TWO WAYS OF BEING MANLY. [February, 

to reach the office. Thank you ; never mind dessert for me to-day, 
Emily." 

" Let me go, too, father ? " 

" Certainly, if you can resist the detaining force of apple dump- 
lings." 

" Oh, father, as if I cared ! O, it will be too good." 

The result of the telegraphic communications was that Mr. Dray- 
ton proved to be Mrs. Dubois' brother, and that he came north as 
fast as steam could bring him, and that there was a joyful meeting 
between them. Mr. Drayton soon established his sister and her 
family near the Greys. In constant companionship with George, it 
is to be hoped that the fiery little Louis will not only learn to forgive 
Ned Parker for calling him a frog-eating Frencher, but also many 
other lessons of true manliness. 

In talking over Mrs. Dubois' good fortune, George said to his 
mother, 

" Wasn't it a great piece of good luck that, of all the boys in Mr. 
Barry's school, I was the one to take Louis' part ; for I don't be- 
lieve anybody in Montville but father had a clew to Mr. Drayton." 

"It was not luck, George ; I call it providential." 

Ned Parker must be dismissed from this story in a few words. 
Mr. Barry's advice made but a transient impression upon his mind, 
because it was not strengthened by home influence. After Clar- 
ence Carlton took a decided stand against Ned's tyranny in school, 
his influence declined rapidly. A few boys of kindred tastes ad- 
hered to him, and they soon became noted for their evil habits. 
One day Ned took three of his companions out to drive. The 
drive was followed by a hot supper, the hot supper by smoking and 
drinking, not because any of the boys, except Ned, liked to smoke 
or drink, but because they thought it manly to do so. The end of 
it all was, Ned was carried home in a state of insensibility. His 
father was grieved and distressed at the sight j but he said to his 
wife, 

" Boys will be boys. Ned is sowing his wild oats early, but soon 
he will turn over a new leaf, and come out all right." 

Don't believe such doctrine, boys. Boys will be boys, but they 
can be noble and manly ones, copying the virtues of their elders, 
not aping their vices ; and all the wild oats they ever need to sow, 
are the very harmless ones springing from exuberant and buoyant 
spirits. F. w. A. P. 



i868.] 



THE LOGGERS. 



49 




THE LOGGERS; OR, SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS 
OF MAINE. 

ST. CROIX, OR SCHOODIC RIVER. 
(Continued from the January Number?) 

[EC. 22. Thermometer below zero, ground well 
I frozen, and, this morning, covered with snow. 
My uncle says no time must be lost ; the teams 
must be loaded at once. 

The men are crowding about the stove, jok- 
ing, laughing, and roughly dressed for the winter 
campaign ; very few wear overcoats, but nearly all have on three 
or four flannel shirts, heavy, home-spun pantaloons, and high, cow- 
hide boots. Moccasons of uncolored leather, and numerous pairs 




50 THE LOGGERS; OR, [February, 

of woollen socks, are provided for the dry, cold weather, as they 
are much easier for the feet. 

A long string of sleds is waiting ; and now commences the load- 
ing of the teams. Flour, pork, beef, and meal are the staple arti- 
cles, and piles of fish ; then follow kegs of molasses, boxes of 
axes, bags of beans, and dried apples ; frying-pans, tin bakers, tin 
clippers, iron pots, etc., all thrown pell-mell on the top of the heavier 
articles, or suspended on the uprights, that stand along the edges 
of the sleds. 

Heavy woollen quilts of every hue and pattern"; some lined with 
army blankets, some with old carpeting, and some with patch-work, 
are rolled up carefully and serve for seats, on the front of the sled. 
Butter, cheese, sugar and other luxuries, are sometimes supplied, 
but not considered at all essential. The men look out for a good 
supply of pipes, and tobacco, and the cook is careful that salt, pep- 
per and all the " little fixens " are not forgotten. Spirits are not 
allowed, although formerly considered indispensable. 

When one team is loaded it starts off, amid the shouts and cheers 
of the men, to be followed by another, and another, until all are 
gone. 

I assure you, there was a considerable excitement even here ; 
for my uncle alone sent off more than forty teams, to be located on 
different streams and lakes within a circuit of fifty miles. 

I was to go with the last, as I " was an invalid, and must have 
things smoothed down a little," On the morning of the 24th, just 
as day dawned, I started upon a low sled. With quilts for a cush- 
ion and my back against a barrel of flour, I bade adieu to my 
uncle, who charged me to " keep up a good heart, and not get 
homesick, and come back to be killed by doctors. Exercise, 
pure air, and coarse living will save you, Bob, if you only take 
to it. It will be rather tough at first, but you must hold on ; it's 
your best chance ; " and I will " hold on," for I have great faith 
in this man's judgment. 

Our ride through the open country was cold and disagreeable. 
The men sang, and told stories to keep themselves warm, advising 
me to run awhile by the side of the sled, to keep my teeth from 
chattering. When I had done so, and started the perspiration, 
they carefully covered me over with one of the quilts, and I slept. 

Upon awakening, the first sound I heard was the men talking 
of me. 

" Can't live a month, that's my thinkin'. Why, my little gal, 
nine year old, is stronger nor he ! " 



i3;68.] six MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 51 

" He is a goner, no doubt," said another, spitting vigorously 
upon the pure snow. " Why, the idea of sending sich a chap to 
chop logs ! ha ! ha ! Well, I guess the fust logging we do will be 
to scoop out one to take him home in." 

Just about then I lifted my head ; as I did not care to hear my- 
self coffined quite yet ; and my eyes opened upon a scene new and 
beautiful. We were in a dense forest of evergreens. Pines, loftier 
than I ever had conceived off and frosted with the light snow, were 
glittering in the morning sun, and delighting my senses with the 
indescribable murmur breathing through them. Dark, rich firs 
sent out their healing odors. Hemlocks and arbor-vitce with their 
wealth of graceful, glittering foliage mingled everywhere ; while 
squirrels chattered and made themselves merry with nature, or 
our grotesque appearance. Our journey through the forest was 
very warm and comfortable. In one spot by the road-side was a 
flock of partridges, as tame as barn-yard fowls, for the good reason, 
I suppose, that they were " unacquainted with man," as Selkirk's 
game were. If my gun had been loaded, I should have made 
some of them nervous, I think. 

About three o'clock we halted for the night at the house of a set- 
tler. A yelping dog and squad of dirty children met us at the 
door. The floor was rough as a wood-shed, and about as clean. 
The manners of the man who took the horses, were as agreeable as 
those of an untamed bear. I was very tired, and threw myself 
along an old settee, that had probably served as both seat and 
cradle. One of our men kindled up a good, bright fire, and while 
I lay before it, with closed eyes, enjoying the genial warmth, I 
heard a light tread and a female voice, sweet as music. The mis- 
tress of the house and mother of the dirty children was setting the 
tea-table, and as unlike anything about there as light and darkness. 
Her dress was blue calico, but every movement was graceful, and 
her manner kind. She expressed interest in me as an invalid, 
wishing she could give me a good bed and something nice to eat ; 
" but indeed, sir, we are very poor, and it's almost impossible for 
me to keep the children covered, let alone keeping them clean." 
The men tell me she does half the labor in the field, as her hus- 
band is a drunkard. 

About noon on the 25th we arrived at the clearing and our 
camps. I assure you I was not sorry when the cook set before us 
on the " Deacon's seat," a pan of fried pork and box of hard bread, 
saying, " Pitch in, boys, and to-morrow you shall dine like kings." 



52 THE LOGGERS; OR, [February, 

You and I have dined at Delmonico's on marble tables with 
silver forks and china plates. Imagine me sitting on the ground, 
eating with a relish, slices of fried pork laid over pilot bread, and 
drinking black tea from a pint dipper ! 

Sunday, 26th. Sharp and frosty, men making their beds and 
then reclining upon them. Several loads of hemlock boughs have 
been spread, and the quilts carefully laid over them. The men all 
sleep with feet to the fire. The camp has a large fire in the centre. 
Think I can endure everything but the smoke, which, in spite of 
a large aperture over head, is whirring and puffing about in all di- 
rections. The men say " it'll behave better by and by when it 
learns manners." At any rate, it don't seem to trouble them 
much, for a more jolly set I never conceived of. 

Have been out to the cattle-camp with the teamsters, and find 
they have taken much pains for their comfort. The clearing is a 
large one, as it should be, lest the trees should blow down upon 
the camp in stormy weather. 

Evening 26^/1. Have been sitting " outside " upon the chopping- 
block, thinking of " home." Lofty trees surround me on every 
side ; nothing else to be seen, but the stars and sky above us ; and 
here I am to stay for months. Can I stay here, and live such a 
curious, rough life ? Is it possible to endure the smoke and other 
disagreeables of camping out? If I was well I might work or 
hunt to pass away the time; but now well, the truth is, I'm 
homesick. I long for my mother's tender, caressing touch, my 
sister's bird-like, cheery voice. I long for all the love and comfort 
of home ; and here I am in a dense forest, many hundred miles 
away. Perhaps my uncle is mistaken in his manner of curing me ; 
and yet he is a man I would trust above all I have ever seen. I 
wall hold on and try. Good-night stars and chopping-block while 
I seek my spicy bed. 

January ist. The men are now fairly at work. I watch them, 
and report progress. They ask me if I keep a log ; " some night 
I may see old Neptune." It seems green woodsmen are initiated 
as sailors were in olden time, and I must be on the look-out. 

Long before day, a stir is heard in camp ; the teamster is going 
out with lighted lantern to feed his oxen and horses. Pretty soon 
the cook stirs up the great fire, which has smouldered all night, and 
cooks the breakfast. One after another of the sleepers cluster 
around the " Deacon's seat," with but little toilet attention, and eat 
vigorously of hot bread, pork, and codfish, finishing off with large 



1 868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 53 

draughts of black tea from tin dippers. The tea is made in a huge 
teakettle, which is kept constantly hot, ready at all times, with the 
sweetening boiled in. Already I find it quite palatable. Once I 
could not have drank it even with milk. 

As the day dawned, the work in the woods commenced. Im- 
mense trees are felled on a level with the snow; a set of men 
called " choppers," trim off the branches, and cut, if too long to 
be handled. The bark is trimmed from the side resting on the 
snow, as it is to be dragged to the stream. It is then fastened to 
a short " bob sled " and the " teamster " has it in charge. Horses 
are much used, but oxen preferred by many, as they are more pa- 
tient in hauling over rough roads. 

From dawn until dark, with but the little interval of dinner, this 
constant chopping is heard, and the mighty monarchs of the forest 
fall upon the soil which has supported them in their glory for cen- 
turies perhaps. At first I could not endure this sacrilege ; but it is 
surprising how soon we learn to submit to expediency or the power 
that rules. I find myself, even now, calculating how many feet of 
lumber such a giant tree would make, full as often as admiring 
its beauty. Pine is the most desirable, always bringing the high- 
est price in the market, and next comes spruce. Hemlock is 
not much sought for, on account of its great heaviness. Unless 
stripped of its bark, it will not float many months. Hackmatack 
a species of larch is much used in ship-building, but not car- 
ried great distances. Cedar is used for fencing, railroad sleepers, 
and shingles. 

January 15^. Last night the great "christening" took place. 
" Old Nep." or the "god of the wood," roughly handled your old 
chum, lathering the face with molasses, and shaving the beard- 
less chin with a piece of iron hoop ; going through various gro- 
tesque performances, and finally christening him " Schoolmaster." 
From henceforth this is to be my wood name, and accounts for the 
curious calling this one " Deacon," another " Doctor," etc., etc. 
The ceremony was not very dreadful, after all ; the men seemed to 
enjoy it, and it served to pass an evening mirthfully. 

February isf. More than one month we have been in the dense 
forest, many, many miles away from any human habitation. Our 
location is on "Monument Brook," which empties into Grand 
Lake, and forms part of the dividing line between Maine and New 
Brunswick. At the head of the brook is a heavy iron monument, 
one of many extending through the interior to mark the division 



54 THE LOGGERS; OR, [February, 

between the countries, and substantial enough to prevent any dis- 
pute about lines for centuries to come. 

" Grand Lake," a dozen miles below us, is the uppermost of this 
magnificent chain of lakes. This and the streams flowing into it 
are remarkable for trout. I promise myself some sport next spring 
with fly-hooks and lines. 

The men say "we have done a smashing month's work." A 
great many logs are piled on the frozen brook, but very little have 
/ done. A few I have barked, and quite a number I have marked ; 
for each log has its owner's particular mark cut upon it before it 
starts on the way. My uncle's all have the form of a hat, another 
man's a cross or a V, or some sign that is easy to cut j and then 
when they reach the lake, or river, all mingle together and remain 
so until they reach the boom just above the mills, where each 
man's logs are sorted out, and turned into his particular ponds for 
sawing. 

Feb. $th. A great event has occurred in our monotonous lives. 
Some loaded teams have arrived with hay and provisions. Prec- 
ious letters from home, from you, Frank, and my uncle. Bless the 
hearts of every one of you, for your good deeds ! I'm in clover 
now, for there's magazines of all kinds, all the latest newspapers, 
and a whole quire of blank paper. 

. It's fun to watch the men crowd about the new comers, and lis- 
ten for. news. All who are fathers are asking for the "wee 
bairns," or poring over letters with moistening eyes. The cook is 
jubilant over some quarters of fresh beef, and all hands are rejoic- 
ing. The men will soon leave, and again we shall be in solitude. 

loth. A most violent storm, and the snow so deep no work can 
be done to-day. The grand old trees sway fearfully in the wind, 
but protect us from the biting blast. Within doors, we are very 
comfortable, with an immense fire in the centre of our camp, 
which is an unusually large one. Two " Deacon's seats " run the 
whole length, and two ranges of beds ; for there are eighteen of us. 

The ' cook " is baking and simmering to his heart's content. Says 
" we are to have e'en a most a Thanksgiving dinner, only missin' 
the punkin pies ; " and really seems as proud of his cooking as a 
Parisian cuisine. Some of the men are cleaning their guns, antici- 
pating grand hunting after this fall of snow. One is nailing up a 
rough bracket for his pipe, another writing to his " little gal," who, 
he says, is " nine year old, an' can write far nicer an' quicker nor 
he." 



1 868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 55 

" By gorry," says another, jumping up from his bed, " this bein' 
so far from home, and with time to think about it is awful ! Give 
me something to do, Cook, or I shall get desprit. Them babies 
down home are tugging at my heart-strings." With a hearty 
laugh, Cook pushes him a pan of potatoes to peal, while the 
man next my elbow calls out for all to " shet up, an' he'll read to 
us." A very good reader he proved, and all listened, until a huge 
lethargic specimen of a man rose up from his bed of boughs, and 
said, 

" Look a here, John, you don't b'l'eve that are your' readin', or 
'spect me to, do yer ? " 

" Of course b'l'eve it yes ; why not ? " 

" BTeve that ! well, I will when you shoot a deer, or any other 
live critter." 

" Hullo ! Burin, was that you spoke ? Well, my boy tu home 
takes that Merry's Museum, an' he b'l'eves every blessed word is 
pure gospel." 

" Pity we couldn't see some strange sights in this forest," said 
Backer. 

" We do, we do," answered Cook, tasting his simmering stew, 
" only we aint got that fellow's magnifying glasses. Why, I tell 
you, if we had hold one of them moose that are running all around 
us, waitin' to be killed, why, he'd make 'bout a hundred splendid- 
lookin' lies out a him ! " 

A shout of laughter waked some who were sleeping; and a 
very merry feeling prevailed. 

" Look a here, Cook," said' Irish Pat, after a loud whistle, " did 
ye iver hear if Purgatory ? " 

" Sartain, Pat," tasting away at his savory mess. 

" Well thin, was ye iver in that same ? " 

" Not yet, Pat ! " 

" Well, thin, " seizing Cook by one hand, " I've been in it for an 
hour an' more ! It's true for 1 me, smellin' that sthew, an' seein' ye 
taste and taste, and niver a drap for the one of us. Ladle her out, 
Cook, or ther'll be a row in this camp ! I can't stan' this no longer, 
for the hunger is tearin' at me, an' it'll take two quarts to fill me 
up," giving himself a blow that roused the remaining sleepers. 

Pretty soon, the " Deacon's seat " was surrounded by eighteen 
hungry men j and the way Cook's soup and bread disappeared was 
a wonder to any one not acquainted with the appetites of laborers 
in the open air. 



AN OBJECT FOR SEWING. 



[February, 



At noon the storm raged on. There was but one small window. 
The most of us betook ourselves to our beds, with such books- and 
papers to look over as we had in our possession. After reading 
awhile, I found myself listening to the droll conversation of the men, 
with a newspaper thrown over my face. Sacker had been trying 
again to write to his " little gal " having blotted his morning letter. 

" It's no go," he said at last ; " I never could think of anything 
when I wanted to, and never could say it when I did think of it." 

" Get the Schoolmaster to write for ye ; faith an' he's the boy'll 
do that same, in the twinklin' of a jackknife, better 'n he can 
chop the logs, intirely." 

(To be continued.) 



AN OBJECT FOR SEWING. 

" Ah, Cousin Harry, how d'ye do ? 
And how's your little wife ? " 

"Oh she's right hearty, good as new, 
And sewing for dear life ! " 

"Why, Nellie used to hate to sew ! 
Her tastes have altered, maybe 1 " 

" Well, p'r'aps they have, but then, you know, 

The ' dear life ' is the baby!" AUNT SUE. 




i868.] 



LITTLE PEARL. 



57 




LITTLE PEARL. 

CHAPTER I. PLAYING MOTHER. 
(Continued from the January Number^) 

I can do it ; I've been thinking about it a long 
time ; and Lule cut me out a pattern from Har- 
ry's clothes the other day." 

" Oh, that will be nice," said Gassy ; " let's 
do it." 

" Yes ; and see if we can't get them all done 
before father comes home," said Agnes. 

" Dear papa must get me some boots," said Bliss, " and I vont 
a dun and a jaetknife." 
They all laughed. 




5 8 LITTLE PEARL. [February, 

"Why, Bliss, you would shoot yourself with a gun," said Gassy. 

" No, I voudn't. I'd tute Mit Muggins." 

" O Bliss, that is naughty," said Agnes. " You must try to like 
Miss Mu " 

" Can you like her, Agnes ? " asked Gassy. 

" I shall try to now. I suppose she'll be my cross, but I must 
bear her." 

Agnes now began to dress herself to play mother. She put on 
a long skirt and a collar, and wound an old silk scarf around her 
head and coiled it in a knot behind, to make it seem like a knot of 
hair. 

" There, I'm ready," she said ; " and Gassy, don't you think " 
her voice lowered, and she hesitated for a moment, " don't you 
think that we ought to do just as mother used to do in the morn- 
ing, read in the Bible and say the Lord's Prayer ? " 

" Oh, you always try to be so awful good," said Gassy, " and that 
is why you get bad so quick. We shall get Bible enough when 
grandmother comes. I suppose she'll make us say our prayers 
twenty times a day." 

" Why, Gassy Marsh, how wicked you are," Agnes exclaimed, 
" I did not know you was so wicked." 

Pearl, too, was shocked at the rude speech. 

" Dear Sissy," she said, kneeling beside Gassy, and looking up 
into her face, with her great blue eyes full of tears, " please don't 
talk so any more ; the good angels can't stay with you if you do, 
and it would make mamma feel bad." 

" Why, I should think that I had been killing somebody, the way 
you all act," said Gassy. " I guess I aint any wickeder than you 
are, Agnes. I heard you say the awfulest word the other day ! It 
was just as bad as swearing." 

Agnes looked confused. 

" I know I'm not good," she said, " but I want to be, Gassy ; and 
mother often told us, that the only way was just to read the Holy 
Word, and ask God to make us good ; and I'm a going to do it; " 
and there was a dignity in Agnes' manner that awed Gassy. 

She got the Bible, and made Pearl and Bliss sit down 'beside 
her, and then began turning over the leaves in an absent sort of a 
way, and finally said, 

" Gassy." 

Gassy didn't want to hear. She turned away her head and 
commenced half humming and half whistling a little song. 



l868.] LITTLE PEARL. 59 

"Gassy," Agnes said again. 

" I thought you was agoing to read," said Gassy. 

" So I am ; but I don't want you to feel that way, Gassy. I 
know you didn't mean anything very wicked. Wont you come and 
let us try together to do better ? " 

" Well, read, if you are going to," said Gassy, sitting down and 
folding her hands ; "I'm ready." 

Now, Agnes was in trouble again. She was not a good reader. 
Her father had peculiar ideas about educating children. He 
thought that they should never be allowed to look into a book 
until they were ten or twelve years old. " First make the body 
healthy and strong," he would say, " and then the mind." 

So Agnes had not been taught to read until about a year before 
her mother died ; and she only knew the first part of the first chap- 
ter of John ; and she had read that so many times before when she 
had been playing mother, that Gassy had begun to be curious and 
suspicious about it ; and even Agnes had heard her say, in a pro- 
vokingly loud whisper to Pearl, " Great mother, and can't read." 

So the poor child slowly turned over the leaves, trying to be as 
long as possible in coming to the place, that she might be able to 
recall to memory some other verses that she had once learned. 
When she came to a short Psalm that looked so easy that she 
thought that she could read it, she read it to herself a few times, 
and then raised her head with a little air of pride, and said in a 
tone not very humble, 

"We will read a Pazlem." 

" Pazlem ! " repeated Gassy, 'tisn't Pazlem ; it's Perslams." 

Hot anger glowed on Agnes' face and flashed in her eyes. How 
should Gassy know what it was. Gassy knew nothing about read- 
ing, only what she had taught herself and learned from her ; and 
hadn't she puzzled over that word more than an hour one day, and 
said it over in a thousand different ways, till she knew that there 
was no other way that a mortal could speak it. 

" Now, just let me show you," said Gassy, coming up to her, and 
trying to take the Bible out of her hand. But Agnes pushed her 
away with such force, that she fell backward on the floor. 

" I don't care, I know how to spell it, and I don't believe you do. 
Its P-s-a-1-m-s ; and if s, a, 1, m, s don't spell slams, it don't spell 
anything ; and P is per, of course ; and if it isn't Perslams its 
Flams, 'tisn't Pazlems, anyway." 

" Gassy," said Agnes, trying hard to control herself, " it is not 



60 LITTLE PEARL. [February, 

probable that you know anything at all about it, any more than 
Jero does ; but you may call it just what you like. I say that 
it is Pazlems, and I know." 

" Probable, and Pazlems ! ha ! ha ! " 

But Agnes had begun to read. She would not notice Gassy 
again. When she had finished, she knelt with Pearl and Bliss to 
repeat the Lord's Prayer, and after a moment Gassy came and 
knelt too, and her voice chimed in with theirs in saying over the 
holy words ; and there was no discord, though little Bliss did say, 
"Now I lay me," instead of ''Our Father." 

Agnes and Gassy kissed each other after the prayer, and then 
they sat down by the hearth, and went merrily to work making the 
new clothes for Bliss, and so earnestly were their little nimble 
tongues and busy fingers at work, that they did not notice that the 
fire had nearly gone out, and that the room was getting chilly, until 
Pearl began to cough ; and then Agnes asked Gassy to go below 
stairs and get some wood. 

" Oh, play I was too small and you had to go," said Gassy, look- 
ing up with a roguish smile ; " I fall and brate my neck, mamma," 
she said. 

" Then you are far too small to send," said Agnes. " I think 
that you had better have some playthings, and be tied up in a 
high chair." 

"Well, I'll go," Gassy said, jumping up quickly and putting 
aside her work. 

But it seemed as if she had hardly got at the foot of the stairs 
before she cried out, 

" Agnes, Agnes, come down quick ! Miss Muggins has gone 
away, and the house is all locked up. Dear, dear, the hateful old 
thing ! " 

Agnes hurried down, and found that it was indeed so. Miss 
Muggins had gone away, and every door was locked. What 
should she do ? Her first thought was to get out of the window 
with the others, and go to the grove ; but it had been raining, and 
she knew that Pearl ought not to go out. So, trying to overcome 
all fear and thoughts of self, she put on a brave look, and with a 
smile shining through her tears, told Gassy that she "wasn't 
afraid." 

" Nothing can do us any harm," she said ; " nobody can get in 
if they do come ; and I'll tell you what we will do, Gassy : we'll get 
the key of the sitting-room, and go in there, and make a fire, and 



1 868.] LITTLE PEARL. 6 1 

fix it all up, just as mother used to have it, and sit there with our 
work ; and when dinner-time comes we'll cook our own dinner, and 
set our little table with the play-dishes, and that will be keeping 
house in earnest, wont it ? " 

" Yes," said Gassy, rather sadly, " if no one comes ; but sup- 
p^se robbers should break in and carry us off." 

" God wouldn't let em," said Pearl, " would he, Aggie ? " 

" I dess Dero'd bite dare heads off," said Bliss, looking fierce. 

" O, there is no danger," Agnes said, trying to make all the 
cheerful noise that she could in putting some wood into the stove. 

And soon Gassy forgot her fears and declared that she was glad 
that the " old thing had gone." 

" We'll find some of those cherry pies now," she said to Agnes. 

" Oh, no/' said Agnes ; " you know that mother never liked us 
to eat luncheons, and she wouldn't let us eat pie, anyway. But we 
had better hunt round and find the key as soon as we can." 

Miss Muggins kept the sitting-room locked during the day, that 
it might be in order when the Doctor returned at night j and she 
was always very careful to hide the key in a safe place. The chil- 
dren searched for it a long time, and finally lost all patience. 

" There," said Gassy, " I wont hunt another bit ; but I'll just go 
and get those pies, the old bear likes so well ; and I'll put them 
where she'll never see them again. I'll give them to the Fenwick 
boys." 

Just then, Bliss came tumbling into the room, crying, 

" I dot it, I dot it. Dar it is," pointing above the hall door. 

Sure enough, his little bright eyes had found it. There it was, 
hanging up over the hall door ; and Gassy drew up the hall table 
and put a chair on it, and got it down in a twinkling. 

Soon there was a bright fire in the sitting-room, and Crep, the 
canary bird, was brought in and hung up in his old place, and the 
white rose bush, the dear mother had loved so well, was put at the 
window, and her low sewing-chair drawn up to the fire, with the 
little work-stand and the children's stools, and then everything was 
as in the old happy days, all but the dear presence in the chair, 
and that would never come back again. 

" It seems as if mamma would be in, in a minute," said little 
Pearl, looking round, with her eyes full of happy tears. 
' " I do think that mother is here," said Agnes. 

" Don't," said Gassy, frightened at Agnes' tears and manner. 
" If mother is in heaven, how can she be here ? " 



62 LITTLE PEARL. [February, 

" I believe she can be," said Agnes, after a moment's silence. 
" I don't mean so we can see her, but so we can feel her in some 
way." 

Gassy looked awed and frightened. 

" Why Gassy," said Agnes. " I shouldn't think you would be 
afraid." 

" I ain't afraid," said Gassy, " only if mother is dead, f'd 
rather she would be in heaven than here." 

" Where is heaven ? " Agnes asked. 

" Up in the sky, I suppose," said Gassy. 

" No," said Agnes, " it is no more up in the sky than it is 
anywhere else grandmother told me so. One can't tell where 
it is the same as they can any other place. The other world and 
this world is just like the soul and the body, grandma said. Of 
course we've got a soul, but nobody can tell where it is. If you 
could look into the body you couldn't see it. The other world is 
just as real as this world is, and looks like it, only it is very differ- 
ent, it is spiritual." 

" Well, if heaven isn't up in the sky," said Gassy, " what makes 
people say up in heaven ? " 

" Because," said Agnes, " all good things we think are up high 
and bad things down low." 

" I know where heaven is," said little Pearl, " it is where God 
is." 

" Yes, dear," said Agnes, taking the little hands in hers and kiss- 
ing the upturned face. 

" Well, what's the use of talking any more about it," said Gassy. 
" It is not probable, Agnes, that you know anything more about it 
than Jero does, and I think that we had better go to sewing if we 
are ever agoing to get those things done." 

They took their work and were very busy and silent over it for 
some time. At last they finished it. Yes, they really got jacket 
and trousers both done, before dinner time. And now came the 
great time of trying on. 

" Come, darling, come to mamma," said Agnes, " and let her 
put on your new clothes." 

But Bliss had tied himself to Jero's neck and couldn't get away 
just then. 

Gassy jumped up and freed him, and the trousers and jacket 
were on in a twinkling. 

But the trousers didn't come together well around the waist. 



1868.] LITTLE PEARL. 63 

" Dear," said Cassy, giving them a great pull, " Bliss is so fat ! " 

But they were made to fit after a while, and altogether the little 
suit looked quite charming. To be sure a few raw edges were 
visible, and when Bliss moved quickly, a stitch here and there 
would break and make a gap, but the general effect was good, 
and the children's admiration could hardly be expressed. 

" O, dear," said Cassy, " I'm tired to death and almost starved. 
Do let us go and get some dinner now, O, excuse .me," she 
said, " I mean, mamma, won't you please come out and get the 
dinner?" 

" Yes, we'll all go out into the kitchen now, and Bliss, don't you 
run so. You'll tear those clothes all off of you," said Agnes, as 
Bliss started to go ahead. 

As they had nothing but eggs to cook, their dinner was soon 
ready, and very prettily did their little table look when it was set. 
They had a large white towel for a table-cloth, and their little set 
of china dishes would have delighted the fairies, they were so tiny 
and delicate. 

On a table near, there were large dishes filled with the food that 
was to supply the little table. A dish of boiled eggs, bread, ginger- 
bread, butter, milk, apples and peaches. 

" Isn't it real good fun to do just as we have a mind to ? " said 
Cassy, as she helped Agnes to bread. 

" Don't say * real,' " said Agnes, " it's very improper." 

" Why is it ? " asked Cassy. 

" I don't know, only mother always said that it was not proper 
to say ' real ' in that way." 

" Well, you ought to know for yourself, you are mother ; I thought 
mothers knew everything ; " and there was that little wicked smile 
on Cassy's face that always, made Agnes so angry. 

" It's a pity you didn't know a little more," said Agnes, " you 
wouldn't make so much fun of everything if you did." 

" It is ' probable ' I wouldn't," said Cassy, " but you are a great 
mother to get mad ! " 

" Come, now, we are ready to sit down," said Agnes, not notic- 
ing Cassy's remark. 

" And let us," she added, after they were all seated, " let us 
each say a verse from the Bible, as we used to when mother was 
alive." 

" I don't remember any," said Cassy, " but go ahead, perhaps I 
shall before it gets to me." 



64 LITTLE PEARL. [February, 

Agnes. " Love the Lord with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as 
thyself." 

Pearl. " God is love." " Little children love one another." 

Cassy. " There was a man sent from God whose name was 
John." 

Bliss. " Desus wept." 

And now the good things of the tables began to disappear in a 
rapid manner, and even little Pearl was merry ; never before since 
her mother's death had she laughed and chatted so gleefully. And 
Bliss, in his perfect enjoyment, burst all the buttons off of his little 
new jacket. 

" There now, Bliss, you are not agoing to drink another drop of 
milk," said Cassy, "you won't have a single thing left on you ! " 

She had hardly done speaking when there came a great noise at 
the door, some one trying to get in ! 

Who could it be ? not Miss Muggins, for she would have first 
unlocked the door. Jero growled, and kitty ran under the table ; 
the children were so frightened that they could neither speak nor 
move. Soon heavy footsteps were heard on the piazza, coming 
towards the window. 

The children in terror rushed into the closet to hide themselves, 

" Perhaps it's Cain," said little Pearl in the faintest whisper. 

(To Pearl, Cain was the only wicked man, and he was always 
alive.) 

They listened sometime in breathless silence but nothing was 
heard at the window. 

" I shall die if I don't get out of here," whispered Cassy, who 
was huddled close with the others under a low shelf. 

Just then Jero came to the door of the closet and whined. 

" I'm agoing to see who it is," said Cassy in a resolute tone, 
"might as well die one way as another." 

Agnes begged of her not to move. But it was of no use. Cas- 
sy's will was strong, she left her hiding place, crept softly to the 
window and looked out. 

(To be continued!) 



i868.] 



MUTINY ABOARD. 





MUTINY ABOARD. 

O WARDS the close of a sultry day, I was 
pacing the quarter deck of the English Frig- 
ate Herald, at Sydney, when the old quar- 
termaster called my attention to an unusu- 
ally fine merchantman that was just rounding 
the Point. 

She was a very handsome clipper. Her long hull, though low 
and black, was yet exceedingly graceful, and she sat lightly on the 
water. 

Having nothing better to do, I resolved to board her, and accord- 
ingly ordered the gig to be manned. 

On board, all was noise, bustle, and confusion. The captain, 
who received me courteously at the gangway, I was surprised to 
find, was a young, gentlemanly-looking man. 

In command of these Australian clippers, one generally finds 
rough, bearish old Scotchmen. However, in this case it was en- 
tirely different. The captain, as I surmised, was a protege of the 
owners, and was accordingly placed in command of this fine vessel 
as soon as he had satisfied the very moderate requirements of the 
Board of Trade. 

He was a most agreeable man, of good education, but totally de- 
ficient in any strength of purpose, any firmness of will or quickness 
of decision hence I saw that he was by no means the right man 
in the right place. 

After our first meeting, we were a good deal together whilst his 
ship was discharging cargo, and taking in her homeward freight. 

As I expected, the greater number of his crew deserted in Syd- 
ney, and he had to make up the complement from the loafers and 
villanous riff-raff that abound in a colonial seaport. The day be- 
fore he was to sail for England he expressed to me his distrust of 



66 MUTINY ABOARD. [February, 

his new* crew ; they were certainly as rascally a lot of ruffians as 
one would be likely to meet with. 

I therefore volunteered to see my friend out of his difficulties, by 
accompanying him to the mouth of the harbor, a distance of about 
six miles, and then returning with the pilot. My offer was gladly 
accepted. 

On the following day I went on board just as the half-drunken 
crew, with much shouting and singing, were weighing the anchor. 
It was only too evident that there would be trouble with them yet, 
if there should not be wind enough outside the Heads to enable 
the ship to get clear away to sea that evening. The captain was 
already as nervous as he could be, and so I said nothing of my 
fears. It was with much concern for him that I noticed the veering 
flaws of wind growing every moment fainter and fainter. 

By the time the noisy rattling old tug had taken the vessel within 
sight of the Heads, there was a dead calm, and she was brought 
to an anchor near a reef, in such a position that she could stand out 
to sea with the first breeze. This done, the tug-boat was cast off, 
and permitted to return to Sydney. 

As soon as the cable was secured, the mate reported that the 
crew demanded grog. The men being already in a half intoxicated 
state, their request, which was really a demand, was not complied 
with. This was the beginning of troubles. 

There immediately followed much murmuring and many growls 
of dissatisfaction, gradually getting louder and more vehement. 
Presently angry voices were heard, in fierce altercation with the 
mates at the very doors of the cabin, and then about thirty of the 
worst of the crew rushed violently into the saloon, at the farther 
end of which the captain and I were sitting. 

They were an ugly looking mob, some with blue shirts, some 
with red, many with neither, but nearly all brandishing large open 
knives. With frightful oaths and threats, they demanded that the 
keys of the " lazarete," in which the spirits are kept, should be 
given up to them. This, of course, was refused, and they were 
ordered to leave the saloon. At this they yelled and shouted 
defiantly, still demanding the cask of rum. I attempted to speak 
to them, but my voice was drowned in a torrent of imprecations. 

In the adjoining state-room of the captain's, a revolver was lying 
on a table. I stepped quietly back, and returned with it concealed 
under my uniform coat. The captain then, by my advice, ordered 
the boatswain to pipe to supper. This command was received by 



1 868.] MUTINY ABOARD. 67 

all with derisive laughter, and yells of defiance. The time for 
action had come, so putting the captain a little aside, I stepped 
forward, at the same time taking care to let the revolver be seen. 
The sight of the deadly weapon produced an almost instantaneous 
silence amongst this cowardly crew. 

" Boatswain," I said, " if you fail any longer to obey your cap- 
tain's order, I will put it out of your power to obey or to disobey 
another order in this world ; for as sure as you stand there, I will 
send one of these balls through your head. Now then, what do 
you say to it ? " 

With these words I slowly cocked the revolver, and took a de- 
liberate aim at his head. 

At the first sound of that disagreeable click of the pistol-lock, 
he cried out, " For goodness' sake, don't fire, sir, I'll do it ; " add- 
ing in a low growl to the others, " It don't matter, chaps, I know 
you won't go none the more for 't." 

The boatswain's shrill whistle then rang sharply and clearly 
through the saloon, but no one heeded it except to greet it with 
yells and roars of derisive laughter. 

As soon as I could make myself heard above the tumult, I said 
sternly and resolutely 

" I'll give you three minutes to clear out of this cabin ; at the 
end of that time I'll blow out the brains of the nearest man, and 
then the next, and so on." 

At this there was a great buzz and talking amongst the men, yet 
they showed no signs of moving, but watched me standing with the 
pistol in one hand and my watch in the other. 

" One minute has gone ; you have only two minutes left, and 
you will have but one more warning." This I said keeping my 
eyes on the dial of the watch. 

The crowd received this with a sulky groan, but yet they seemed 
as if they would stand to their ground. 

" Two minutes have gone ; I warn you no more. The instant 
this hand passes the third minute I fire, and the nearest man will 
be my mark." 

For a few seconds more they stood grumbling and growling; 
but on hearing the click of the revolver they began to waver. 
Then, fixing my eyes steadfastly on one burly fellow, I said in a 
low tone, as if speaking to myself, yet loudly enough to be heard 
by all, " I think he's the nearest, yes, yes, by some inches." At 
this he cowered down, and began to draw back to give one of his 



68 MUTINY ABOARD. [February, 

comrades the preference. He in his turn gave way to another, 
and so on, until it was evident that no one was desirous of being 
the foremost, and so they moved off sulkily out of the cabin. And 
it was really ludicrous to see how the last half-dozen men tumbled 
over one another in their hot haste to get out of the saloon. 

"Thanks, my dear friend," exclaimed the captain, seizing me 
warmly by both hands ; " a thousand thanks. But what an awful 
risk you have run. Did you know that there was not a chamber 
loaded in that revolver, nor a single cap on ? " 

" My dear sir," I replied, " I knew that perfectly well, but the 
men didn't." 

Having replaced the pistol in the cabin, we went on deck. 

The captain going below shortly afterwards, came quickly on 
deck again, and with consternation plainly visible in every feature, 
whispered to me 

"The revolver is gone they have stolen it. We shall have 
more trouble to-night. What are we to do now ? " 

" You are right," I replied, " we have not done with these rascals 
yet ; and it seems that they have the power in their own hands 
now, but that mustn't be. Quick ! get me pen, ink, and paper." 

These were soon brought, and I wrote the following letter : 

Ship , off the Sow and Pigs Reef. 

Send the Pinnace immediately, with a dozen marines, with their arms 
and ball cartridge. Let the boat's crew have their side arms, revolvers, 
and ammunition. There is mutiny on board expect an outbreak any 
moment. We must take them by surprise, therefore see the oars well 
muffled. The officer of the boat to enforce strict silence on nearing the 
vessel. Lose no time in carrying out these instructions. 

Having signed this, and addressed it to "The Commanding 
Officer of the Herald," the next consideration was as to the means 
of sending it ; there was the difficulty. 

Fortunately, without attracting the notice of the drunken crew, 
I hailed a passing boat, and as it came alongside I saw that the 
boatman was well known to me as a man whom I could trust. 
I slipped the letter into his hands, and told him in a whisper to 
take it with all haste, as there was a mutiny on board. 

So far the best had been done, but no assistance could reach us 
under two hours at the least. It was an anxious time. The men 
were gathered together about the forecastle talking with a savage 
earnestness. Thus a long tedious hour passed away. 



l868.] MUTINY ABOARD. 69 

Anxiously we sat at the stern-port, intently listening for the 
sound of the muffled oars. It was quite dark, nothing could be 
seen nor heard but the drunken brawling of the crew on deck. 
By degrees they became noisier and noisier, their conversation 
principally turning on that infernal naval lieutenant, as they were 
pleased to designate me, and what they intended to do with him. 
Some suggested a dose of his favorite cat-o'-nine tails ; whilst 
many advised making a target of him for a little practice with that 
revolver which had previously so cowed them all. Again, many 
thought that he would look well dancing on nothing whilst hang- 
ing from the foreyard arm. All this was not particularly pleasant, 
so that we were not sorry when we heard the Pinnace pull silently 
up under the stern. In a few minutes the men were in the after 
state-cabins, to which they obtained access by means of ropes 
lowered out of the stern-ports. 

And they arrived none too soon, for the captain and I had 
hardly seated ourselves at our old places in the saloon, when the 
same unruly mob burst in as before. 

In answer to the captain, they said that they meant to do him 
no harm, and all they wanted was that man-o'-war officer, and 
without him they would not leave the saloon. 

To this the captain replied with unwonted firmness 

" This gentleman is a guest of mine, and I must first know what 
you want with him." 

The boatswain then, as spokesman for the rest, said, " Waal, we 
don't 'zactly know yet what we do want with him, but we'll make 
it pretty lively for him when we do get hold on him." 

Here there were shouts of " Ay, that we will ; " " Hang the 
beggar ; " " Stick him up and shoot him ; " " Feed the sharks with 
him." 

" Not a man of you," said the captain, " shall lay a finger on 
him, so you'd better clear out of this at once." 

" Avast there a bit," replied the boatswain, " not so fast, not so 
fast. That man taught me a lesson just now, and I'll just Tarn it 
to you now." 

At these words he produced the same revolver, and, with a 
malicious grin, took a deliberate aim at the captain's head, at the 
same time saying, " Now, my fine feller, if you don't change your 
mind in three minutes I'll blow your brains out first, and his'n 
arterwards. Them's the right words, aren't they, mates? I 
thought I'd 1'arned the lesson pretty well. I aint got a watch, 



yo MUTINY ABOARD. [February, 

I know, but I can guess three minutes near enough. But I'll tell 
ye what I have got, and that is a pistol as is loaded this time, 
there's no gammon about it." 

This speech of the boatswain's caused the men to roar again 
and again with drunken laughter. 

" So then," said I, " you rascals won't leave the saloon when 
your captain orders you to. I see that I shall again have to make 
you." This produced cries of " You make us," and howls of deri- 
sion. " Stop a moment," I continued ; " you want me, do you ? 
Well, then, here I am, and as much more of the same sort as you 
like." 

At these words I opened the doors of the state-cabins, and giving 
the orders, " Ready, present," a dozen rifles were levelled at the 
head of the braggart boatswain. With a cry of baffled rage and 
amazement, he dropped the pistol from his grasp and begged for 
mercy. The rest ran like a flock of frightened sheep. 

The ringleaders and those who had been the most troublesome 
were soon secured and placed in irons. The next day saw them 
safely lodged in Sydney Gaol. 

The captain of the merchantman was more fortunate with his 
next crew, and made a good run to England. 



FORGIVENESS. 

NEAR the end of the seventeenth century, a Turkish grandee in 
Hungary made a Christian nobleman his prisoner, and treated him 
with the utmost barbarity. The slave for such he was was 
yoked with an ox, and compelled to drag the plough. But the for- 
tune of war changing, the Turk fell into the hands of the Hungarians, 
who said to their enslaved fellow-countryman, " Now take your 
revenge upon your enemy." This was in accordance with the cus- 
toms of the age ; and the Turk, supposing, as a matter of course, 
that he would be tortured to death, had already swallowed poison, 
when a messenger came from his Christian slave, telling him to go 
in peace, for he had nothing to fear. The Moslem was so im- 
pressed with this heavenly spirit, that he proclaimed with his dying 
breath : " I will not die a Moslem, but I die a Christian ; for there 
is no religion, but that of Christ, which teaches forgiveness of 
injuries." 



1868.] WHERE IS BENNIE? f 

WHERE IS BENNIE? 

THE cowslips in the morning sua 

Unfold each yellow cup, 
And watch and wait and whisper low, 

" Why isn't Bennie up ? 
The robins hop along the path, 

Peep in, then fly away, 
Others think they come for crumbs. 

I hear them chirping say, 

" Where is Bennie ? " 

We see no more about the house 

The little checkered tire ; 
Four chairs around the table stand, 

And none need be made higher. 
The hatchet hangs against the wall, 

The whittlings are swept away ; 
The little barrow rolls no more, 

And the old house seems to say, 
"Where is Bennie?" 

Down by the willows, green and cool, 

The little brook flows on ; 
But seems to murmur sadly now, 

For all the boats are gone. 
Miss Puss sits blinking in the sun, 

Ready for games of play, 
Or roams about from room to room, 

While her soft mew seems to say, 
"Where is Bennie?" 

Under the lindens, far away, 

In a cradle warm and wide, 
A baby laughs and kicks and crows, 

With a small boy at her side. 
They frolic there in that soft nest, 

Two happy little birds ; 
And when we call, the youngest sings, 

In a sweet song without words, 

" Here is Bennie." 

Aunt Louise. 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP BAG. 



[February, 




THIS enigma has been frequently published, but never solved. 
If some of the MERRY'S can't find an answer to it, there will be no 
use in ever publishing it again. 

" I sit stern on the rock, while I'm raising the wind, 
But the storm once abated, I'm gentle and kind. 
Kings sit at my feet, who wait at my nod 
To kneel in the dust, on the ground I have trod. 
I'm seen by the world, and known by but few, 
The Gentile detests me I'm pork to the Jew. 
My weight is three pounds, my length is a mile, 
And when once discovered, you'll say with a smile, 
That the first and the last are the pride of our isle. 
The answer is a word of one syllable. 

ROSIN BUBBLES. Dip the bowl of a tobacco-pipe into melted 
rosin, hold the pipe in a vertical position, and blow through it ; 
bubbles of various sizes will be formed, of a variety of colors. 

IT has been asked, " When rain falls, does it ever get up again ? " 
Of course it does in dew time. 

WHEN are soldiers like good flannels ? When they wont shrink. 

HE who gave Saturn his rings and placed the moon like a ball 
of silver in the broad arch of heaven, gives the rose leaf its delicate 
tint, and made the distant sun to nourish the violet. 

A BRITISH association for exploring Palestine has discovered 
what is supposed to be the remains of the synagogue of Capernaum. 
This is the only building in which the Saviour was, when on earth, 
which can be identified at this day. 



i868.] AUNT SUE'S SCRAP BAG. 73 

VENETIAN HOUSES. The sociability of Europe, and more espe- 
cially of southern Europe, is shown abroad ; under the domestic 
roof it dwindles and disappears. And, indeed, it is no wonder, 
considering how dispiriting and comfortless most of the houses are. 
The lower windows are heavily barred with iron j the wood-work is 
rude, even in most palaces in Venice ; the rest is stone and stucco ; 
the walls are not often papered, though they are sometimes painted ; 
the most pleasing and inviting feature of the interior is the frescoed 
ceiling of the better rooms. The windows shut imperfectly, the 
heavy wooden blinds imperviously (is it worth while to observe 
that there are no Venetian blinds in Venice ?) j the doors lift slant- 
ingly from the floor, in which their lower hinges are imbedded ; the 
stoves are of plaster, and consume fuel without return of heat ; the 
balconies alone are always charming, whether they hang high over 
the streets, or look out upon the canals, and, with the gaily-painted 
ceilings, go far to make Venetian houses habitable. 

THE rising of the sun is known by the shining beams ; the fire is 
known by its burning j the life of the body is known by its moving ; 
even so certainly is the presence of God's spirit known by the shin- 
ing light of a holy conversation. 

A HELPING word to one in trouble, is often like a switch on a 
railroad track, but one inch between wreck and smooth-rolling 
prosperity. Beecher* 

CURIOUS CHINESE DEFINITIONS OF MAN. The Inquisitive 
Man thrusts his head into a bee-hive. The Contented Man cuts 
his own hair. The Extravagant Man keeps his coals in a volcano. 
The Hasty Man drinks his tea with a fork. The Reckless Man is 
like a dog in a sausage shop. The Passionate Man picks his teeth 
with the tail of a dragon. 

GRATITUDE is the memory of the heart. 
HOPE is the blossom of happiness. 

DESIRE is a tree in leaf, Hope is a tree in flower, and Enjoyment 
is a tree in fruit. 

ETERNITY is a day without yesterday or to-morrow a day with- 
out end. 

GOD is a necessary being the sun of eternity, the machinist of 
nature, the eye of justice, the matchless power of the universe, the 
soul of the world. 



74 AUNT SUE'S SCRAP BAG. [February, 

THE number of black lead-pencils made in Keswick, England, 
is twenty-five thousand per week ; that is, about thirteen millions 
per annum. The cedar annually consumed amounts to twelve 
thousand cubic feet, and the yellow pine in due proportion. The 
plumbago is partly the produce of the Borrowdale mine, and partly 
from Mexico and Peru. 

VERY few people who visit Greenwood Cemetery ever dream that 
the battle of Long Island was fought within its enclosure. Such is 
the fact, however, for on the 26th of August, 1776, the conflict raged 
on those very grounds. 

A PORTION of the posterior half of Cardinal Richelieu's skull 
was recently discovered in France, and by order ojf the government 
restored with great pomp and solemnity to the mausoleum origin- 
ally erected in Paris to receive his remains. The Parisian sneer, 
usual on all such occasions, found expression next day in the fol- 
lowing bon mot: "Ah! yes. We have half his skull. Would that 
we had half his brains ! " 

A LADY, the Gardiner (Me.) Journal says, who recently visited a 
cemetery with her little daughter, observed on one of the stones 
a neatly cut figure of a horse. Wondering why such an emblem 
should be used, they examined the inscription closely, but could 
find no clue to its appropriateness, when her little girl remarked : 
" I presume she died of the nightmare" 

HABIT is a cable. We weave threads of it every day, and at last 
we cannot break it. 

TOAST at a Railway Festival " Our mothers, faithful tenders, 
they never misplaced the switch." 

WHAT riches are those that certainly make themselves wings 
and fly away? Ost-riches. 

WHEN you dispute with a fool, your opponent is nearly certain 
to be similarly employed. 

A COMMON ORNAMENT. " Ah, Charley," said one little fellow 
to another, "we are going to have a cupola on our house." " Pooh ! 
that's nothin'," rejoined the other; "papa's going to get a mortgage 
on ours." 

A TRIAL trip a trip with two Saratoga trunks, four band-boxes, 
and a woman. 



i868.] 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



75 




WELL, young friends, how do 
you like our holiday suit? We 
don't wish to be proud; but we 
think that we have done pretty 
well, considering our age, the hard 
times, and the various tastes to be 
consulted. With daisies blooming 
bravely outside in spite of the 
weather, and a variety of good 
things inside by way of Christmas 
cheer, we think old Merry looks as 
if he intended to amuse the young 
folks as he did their fathers and 
mothers before them. He certain- 
ly means to try; so send along 
your contributions and subscrip- 
tions for the new year, and lend 
him a hand for old acquaintance's 
sake. 

The letters of Eula Lee, Meta- 
com, Sans Souci, Cousin Jennie, 
and others are received ; but it has 
been decided that it is best not to 
publish any but communications of 
general interest. The circulation of 



the Magazine has increased ; and to 
strangers the chat is neither intelli- 
gible nor interesting. Messages 
can be sent, and questions and ans- 
wers given ; but there is not room 
for letters unless peculiarly attrac- 
tive. 

Cousin Jennie is mistaken in her 
belief that the Assistant Editor of 
Merry's Museum ever contributed 
to any Table Talk but that of her 
own home. She is much obliged 
for good wishes, and will endeavor 
to make her department all it should 
be. 

Fanny Fielding sends a letter full 
of interesting things for the boys, 
so we give it a place. Also, a little 
story of real life from Cousin Trib- 
ulation, who likes to tell her adven- 
tures. 



NORFOLK, VA, Jan. 3^, 1868. 
DEAR MERRYS : I want to 
tell you what pleasant times two 
little Boston boys once had, visit- 
ing some of my relations away down 
here in the sweet South. They 
came in the spring season, when 
the woods were white with dog- 



7 6 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. [February, 



wood flowers, and fragrant with 
wild crab blossoms. When dog- 
wood blooms, they say, is the time 
to go drum-fishing. I wonder if 
you know what that is ? No ? 
Then I'll tell you. 

The drums are immense fish, 
often three, and sometimes as much 
as four feet long, very fine in flavor ; 
and the people of Eastern Shore 
Virginia are famous for getting up 
boating parties in May and going 
out in pursuit of them. Gentlemen 
and professed fishermen all like 
the fun ; and there is sometimes 
quite an excitement in making 
preparations for frolics of this kind, 
"seizing" fish-hooks, catching 
bait, and getting dinner packed. 
Henry and Willie Otis set out with 
their cousin in his boat, the " Phoe- 
nix." They had many questions to 
ask of the black men who went 
along to manage the boat, and who, 
when the wind died out too much to 
sail, put their strong arms to the 
oars, and rowed finely. Away they 
went to the ocean where the great 
waves rose and fell, and the white 
spray broke over the bows of their 
boat. Here they caught the fish. 

Willie Otis asked " Uncle Min- 
go " (one of the negro men), to 
let him help haul in his fish; so, 
when one fastened on to the line, 
he laughingly called Willie to come 
and help. That was to please him, 
for he knew that Willie was not 
strong enough to move the fish 
an inch. Uncle Mingo pulled too ; 
but Willie thought he was doing it 
all, and so he gave such a shout 
of delight when he felt the prize 
coming, as he fancied, that his 
drum-ship took alarm and let go 
his hold, so they lost that one. The 
fishers were very successful alto- 
gether, however : for before dinner- 
time they had taken eleven drums ; 
and when it came time for dinner 
they concluded to anchor for a 
while on Parramore's Beach. Old 
Mr. Churn and his family lived 
here, and they were always glad to 
see visitors. He told Uncle Mingo 
that he ought to take the little 



stranger-boys bird-egging. This he 
was very ready to do ; so while the 
gentlemen stopped to rest and talk 
these egg-hunters were rambling in 
the marshes in search of the sea- 
birds' nests. They found them, 
too, blue gulls' eggs, with great 
brown spots on them, willets' eggs, 
green with brown spots, quanti- 
ties of little sedge-hens' eggs, and 
those of the spring chickens, that, 
when boiled and the shell removed, 
look like beautiful great opals, 
the white being only semi-opaque 
and the yolk seeming like a gleam 
of fire through it, so red it is. 
They got baskets full, several 
hundred eggs, taking the precau- 
tion to lay sea*weeds in to prevent 
breakage. The oyster-caps amused 
Henry. They are a kind of sea- 
weed, something like Iceland-moss, 
only dark-looking, and are covered 
with warts, which, when pressed, 
explode like pop-guns. 

The boys went up the high white 
sand-banks, and rolled down on the 
flat beach with great satisfaction ; 
and then the island-people made 
much of them. Mrs. Churn gave 
Henry a tame wild goose. Do you 
know how anything can be tame 
and wild too ? and altogether they 
were as happy that day as boys 
well could be. 

Some neighbors called that the 
fish were biting finely ; so all put off 
again. That evening the Phoenix's 
white sails spread, grandly into 
Watchaprique Creek, home, Un- 
cle Mingo blowing a horn, a large 
conch, to let the people on shore 
know they had been lucky that 
day : and the music had really a 
very sweet sound winding along 
the sedgy shores, and through the 
coves and inlets. 

They had in all twenty drums, be- 
side some crabs and shrimps and 
the eggs I have told you about, and 
the pet goose ; and then there were 
beautiful scallop shells, and some 
very queer ones which I cannot 
describe to you, and of which I do 
not know the name, but which the 
boys took great pleasure in gather- 



i868.] 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



77 



ing from the beach and carrying to 
Flora, their little sister, and their 
two Southern cousins, Anna and 
Betty Stith, who set tea-tables with 
them many a day after. 

I think this drum-fishing expedi- 
tion was almost the gayest one the 
boys had, until later in the season, 
when fat-backing came. I don't 
believe you will ever guess what 
that was unless I tell you, which, 
with Mr. Merry's permission, I 
shall do in my next letter. 

FANNY FIELDING. 



DEAR MERRYS : One sees a 

ood deal of character when travel- 
ng, especially in horse-cars, and 
as I do a good deal of the latter 
sort, I often get glimpses of the 
odd, disagreeable, or pleasant side 
of my fellow-beings. Let me tell 
you a little scene which was a les- 
son to all who saw it. Going to 
Brookline one day, I took a car at 
a time when it was fullest. As we 
rolled along I glanced up and down 
the two rows of faces, and amused 
myself by studying them. None 
were particularly attractive except a 
boy of eighteen, or so, who sat read- 
ing in the corner opposite. He 
wasn't handsome, nor very well 
dressed ; but there was something 
very pleasant to me in the thin, 
brown face bent studiously over the 
book. From the cap he wore and 
the erect carriage of his shoulders I 
fancied that he had been in the 
army, and liked him all the more 
for that. While I sat looking at 
him an old colored woman got in. 
All the seats were full, and no one 
stirred. Two gentlemen had given 
their places to white ladies, but 
none of the five seated gentlemen 
offered the old woman a seat. She 
was very black and shabby, but the 
ugly face was kind and patient, and 
the poor clothes were neat. Hav- 
ing no prejudice against color I was 
about to offer my seat when the 
boy glanced up, rose instantly, and 
beckoning, said, respectfully, 
" Here's a place, ma'am." 



She took it with a motherly 
"Thanky, dear, thanky," and set- 
tled herself with a sigh of satisfac- 
tion. Two girls looked at one 
another and giggled, but stopped 
suddenly with an altered look when 
they saw, what none of us had ob- 
served before, that the youth was 
lame. As he arranged his crutch 
the old gentleman next me bobbed 
up in an impetuous way which made 
me suspect that he was a little 
ashamed of himself. 

" Here, you mustn't stand, sit , 
down, sit down," he said. 

"Certainly not, sir, I can stand 
perfectly well ; " and with a decided 
shake of the head the boy looked 
down at his book, coloring a little 
under the four and twenty pairs of 
eyes fixed on him. The old gentle- 
man wouldn't sit down, and glanc- 
ing at the boy's cap he said, 

" You've been in the army ?" 

" Yes, sir, a short time." 

"See any fighting?" 

" I was at Wagner." 

At that quite a little breeze of 
interest blew through the car, and 
the old woman patted the end of 
the boy's coat, that lay on her knee, 
with a look that was a blessing. 

"Got wounded there?" said the 
old man. 

" Lost my foot, sir." 

Up I got and insisted that he 
should sit down. But he laughing- 
ly refused, saying he was going to 
fet out ; and with a military salute 
e left the car. It was curious to 
see how carefully the ladies drew 
their skirts out of his way, how 
respectfully a man opened the door 
for him, and how gratefully the 
colored woman's eyes followed him. 

It was a small thing to do, but 
somehow I think every one had 
learned a lesson of that true gentle- 
man, who had proved that he was 
not only brave but courteous, in 
the best sense of the word ; for 
something finer than politeness 
taught him to respect the woman 
because she was old, and poor and 
black. 

COUSIN TRIBULATION. 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. [February, 





although answering correctly on- 
ly twenty-two out of the thirty 
puzzles in the December number, 
heads the list, and wins her second 
prize. 

. ~^-^~ 

QUESTIONS, ENIGMAS, CHARADES, 
ETC. 

31. I am composed of 29 letters : 

My 6, 12, 21, 29 is used in ho- 
tels. 

My 2, 8, 24, 9, 1 1 was destruc- 
tive in ancient times. 

My 23, 27, 1 8 promotes mirth. 

My 10, 20, 28, 22 is part of the 
body. 

My 14, 19, 5, 13, 26 is brittle. 

My 15, 3, 4, 1 6, 7 is an admir- 
able attribute. 

My 17, 25, i signifies to tear. 

My whole is a desirable accom- 
plishment. C. F. W. 



32. I am composed of 15 letters : 
My 10, 14, 15, 5, 2 is a small 

boat. 

M Y 4, 6, 13, 1 1, 7 is a just claim. 
My 3, 12, 8, 9, i is wanting 

courage. 

My whole is a city and state in 
the United States. 

Wolverine. 



NAMES OF PLACES IN NEW YORK. 



33. A conjunction and an adverb. 

34. A color and a kind of fuel. 

35. An adjective and a city. 

36. An animal. Snow-bird. 

37. Find six verbs (more or less) 
comprising not more than 25 
letters, out of which may be 
made every word of the i7th 
verse, of the loth chapter of 
Proverbs. F. R. S. 



NAMES OF FLOWERS ENIGMAT- 
ICALLY EXPRESSED. 

38. A diminutive lake and two lies 

told upon it. 

39. What we like to kiss sometimes, 

even when we wont own it. 

40. Water, first in small crystals, 

and then in a sphere. 

41. For a girl's understanding the 
artistic gear. S. F. 



i868.] 



42. I am a word of five letters, con- 

taining i, an extremity; 2, 
two numbers ; 3, accent ; 4, 
dispatched ; 5, thus ; 6, a dolt ; 
7, a relative ; 8, to place ; 9, 
art" adverb ; 10, a negative ; 
1 1, to observe ; 12, part of the 
face ; 13, a weight ; 14, a kind 
of dwelling ; 1 5, a preposition ; 
1 6, a snare ; 17, an attack ; 
and 1 8, above. A. R. T. 

43. Behead one science and leave 

another. Ixia. 

44. Behead an animal, transpose 

and leave the place in which 
he may often be found. 

Roguish Kate and Oddity. 

45. Behead an animal, transpose 

and leave a flower. Comet. 

46. Curtail a coin, transpose and 

leave another. Fred. 



WORDS ENIGMATICALLY EX- 
PRESSED. 

47. Have not so much compassion. 

Violet Forest. 

48. Provide food, column. Rena. 

49. Shoe relations. Wolverine. 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 

59- 



79 



50. ii furniture. 
Si- 4 - 

52. 500111250. 

53. 100900. 



Prairie Boy. 

Auntie. 

F.F. 

Addie W. 



ANAGRAMS. 
54. Iron cedar. 



A.O. 



55. Now sing. 

56. C. sees salt ice. 



Bittersweet. 
Effie. 



Correct the following sentences. 

57. Of two evils choose the least. 

58. He walked backward and for- 

ward all night long. 




F.B. 

fgjr* Answers to the above must 
reach me before the Wi of 
March. Those received later 
will not be credited. 

Hgi^ Send puzzles, answers, etc., 
intended for THE DRAWER, to 
"AUNT SUE," Box in P. O., 
Brooklyn, N. Y. 

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN DECEM- 
BER NUMBER. 

309. Shuttleworth. 

310. Subscribe for Merry's Mu- 
seum. 

311. Gray. 

312. Congreve. 
313- Pope. 

314. Shakspeare. 

315. Aloof a fool. 

316. Murmur rum, rum, 

317. Loves solve. 

318. Save vase. 

319. Decalogue. 

320. Mango. 



8o 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[February. 



321. Isinglass. 

322. Comical. 

323. One is hollowed out, the other 
is hollowed in. 

324. Malice, Alice, lice, ice. 

325. Rich, funny, modest, set. 
(Hero had no h in his list, and 
C. W. J. only used one s.) 

326. Abundance, like want, ruins 
many. 

327. A manatus (a man ate us). 

328. Connecticut. (" Illinois " was 
pretty good, but "noise" is not 
a "verb.") 

329. Paraphrases. 

330. Elaborate. 

331. Earnest ("Eastern" credited). 

332. Antipathies. 

333. Idealist. 

334. Avoset, votes. 

335. Bridegroom. 

336. Theatre : i, heater ; 2, tea ; 3, 
eat ; 4, tree ; 5, three ; 6 and 7, 
ear and hat ; 8, teeth. (Ixia 
gives "granite" as the answer 
to this : the items being "grate, 
tea, eat, grain, ten, net, ear, 
retina, or tear.") 

337. Ram, ape, men. 

338. An X an X 2 an X (annex an 
X to an X) and you will have 
XX. 

IXIA answers all but 309, 312, 315, 
323, 327, 334, 335, 338. 

Florian answers all but 309, 310, 

312, 321, 327, 334, 335, 337, 

338. 
F. R. S. answers all but 309, 311, 

312, 316, 323, 327, 334, 335, 

338. 
C. W. y. answers all but 309, 311, 

312, 321, 324, 325, 327, 334, 

335, 336 ; 337, 338. 
Hero answers 315, 317, 318, 319, 

320, 321, 322, 326, 328, 330, 

33i, 333, 335- 
Wolverine answers 311, 313, 315, 

317, 318, 320, 321, 325, 331, 

334- 

Minnie answers 311, 315, 317, 318, 
320, 321. 



NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 

Vincent. You have the right 
name, although spelled differently. 
I will " remind Cousin Fleta " that 
she promised you "her carte," if 
she will read this paragraph. 

Hero. Yours was the best Merry 
letter I have received this month. 
I read your list of Christmas pres- 
ents to a pretty little girl, and she 
remarked, " Why ! weren't they real 
nice ? " We always have " Robert 
Merry" at the head of the MUSEUM. 
I cannot fully answer your other 
questions, here. 

H. M. Answers to the puzzles 
may be written on both sides of the 
page. Robert Fulton, the son of 
a poor Irish laborer, was born in 
Pennsylvania, in 1765. The name 
of his first successful steamboat 
was the "Clermont" which made 
her trial trip to Albany, from New 
York, in August, 1807. 

Dick. The one who answers 
correctly the greatest number of 
the month's puzzles, receives a 
prize. The first prize is a heart- 
puzzle. Each competitor can win 
three prizes, and is then considered 
" out." The second prize is a gold 
pen. The third prize is a gold pen 
in silver pencil case, a gold-mount- 
ed rubber pencil, or a handsome 
pocket-knife : whichever the winner 
chooses. 

Wolverine. I quite agree with 
you concerning the " improved ap- 
pearance." 

C. J. "The young one's" solu- 
tion was mainly correct ; the " doll- 
baby" should have been "girls;" 
and "on hand" instead of u in 
hand." 

Thanks for enigmas, etc., to Vin- 
cent, F. R. S., Ixia, Florian, Royal 
Blue, Hero, Reddo, and Wolverine. 




VOL. 



I.] 



MARCH, 1868. 



[NO. 3. 



MY MAY DAY AMONG CURIOUS BIRDS AND BEASTS. 




EING alone in London, yet wishing to 
celebrate the day, I decided to pay my 
respects to the lions at the Zoological 
Gardens. A lovely place it was, and 
I enjoyed myself immensely ; for May- 
day in England is just what it should 
be, mild, sunny, flowery, and spring- 
like. As I walked along the well-kept 
paths, between white and rosy haw- 
thorn hedges, I kept coming upon 
new and curious sights ; for the birds 
and beasts are so skilfully arranged, 
that it is more like travelling through 
a strange and pleasant country than 
visiting a menagerie. 

The first thing I saw, was a great 
American bison ; and I was so glad to 
meet with any one from home, that I'd 
have patted him with pleasure, if he 
had shown any cordiality toward me. 
He didn't, however, but stared savagely 
with his fiery eyes, and put down his immense head with a sullen 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by H. B. FULLER, in the Clerk's 
Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



82 MY MAY-DAY AMONG CURIOUS BIRDS AND BEASTS. [March, 

snort, as if he'd have tossed me with great satisfaction. I did not 
blame him, for the poor fellow was homesick, doubtless, for his 
own wide prairies and the free life he had lost. So I threw him 
some fresh clover, and went on to the pelicans. 

I never knew before what handsome birds they were ; not grace- 
ful, but with such snowy plumage, tinged with pale pink and faint 
yellow. They had just had their bath, and stood arranging their 
feathers with their great bills, uttering a queer cry now and then, 
and nodding to one another sociably. When fed, they gobbled up 
the fish, never stopping to swallow it, till the pouches under their 
bills were full ; then they leisurely emptied them, and seemed to 
enjoy their lunch with the grave deliberation of regular English- 
men. 

Being in a hurry to see the lions, I went on to the long row of 
cages, and there found a splendid sight. Six lions and lionesses, 
in three or four different cages, sitting or standing in dignified atti- 
tudes, and eyeing the spectators with a mild expression in their fine 
eyes. One lioness was ill and lay on her bed, looking very pensive, 
while her mate moved restlessly about her, evidently anxious to do 
something for her, and much afflicted by her suffering. I liked 
this lion very much, for, though the biggest, he was very gentle, and 
had a noble face. 

The tigers were rushing about, as tigers usually are ; some creep- 
ing noiselessly to and fro, some leaping up and down, and some 
washing their faces with their velvet paws. All looked and acted 
so like cats, that I wasn't at all surprised to hear one of them purr 
when the keeper scratched her head. It was a very loud and large 
purr, but no fireside pussy could have done it better, and every one 
laughed at the sound. 

There were pretty spotted leopards, panthers, and smaller va- 
rieties of the same species. I sat watching them a long time, 
longing to let some of the wild things out for a good run, they 
seemed so unhappy, barred in those small dens. 

Suddenly, the lions began to roar, the tigers to snarl, and all to 
get very much excited about something, sniffing at the openings, 
thrusting their paws through the bars, and lashing their tails impa- 
tiently. I couldn't imagine what the trouble was, till, far down the 
line, I saw a man with a barrow full of lumps of raw meat. This 
was their dinner ; and, as they were fed but once a day, they were 
ravenous. Such roars and howls and cries as arose, while the man 
went slowly down the line, gave one a good idea of the sounds to 



1 868.] MY MAY-DAY AMONG CURIOUS BIRDS AND BEASTS. 83 

be heard in Indian forests and jungles. The lions behaved best, 
for they only paced up arid down, with an occasional cry ; but the 
tigers were quite frantic, for they tumbled one over the other, 
shook the cages, and tried to reach the bystanders just out of 
reach behind the bar that kept us at a safe distance. One lady 
had a fright, for the wind blew the end of her shawl within reach 
of a tiger's great claw, and he clutched it, trying to drag her nearer. 
The shawl came off, and the poor lady ran away screaming, as if 
a whole family of wild beasts were after her. 

When the lumps of meat were thrown in, it was curious to see how 
differently the animals behaved. The tigers snarled and fought and 
tore, and got so savage, I was very grateful that they were safely 
shut up. In a few minutes, nothing but white bones remained ; 
and then they howled for more. One little leopard was better bred 
than the others, for he went up on a shelf in the cage, and ate his 
dinner in a quiet proper manner, which was an example to the rest 

The lions ate in dignified silence, all but my favorite, who carried 
his share to his sick mate, and, by every gentle means in his power, 
tried to make her eat. She was too ill, however, and turned away 
with a plaintive moan which seemed to grieve him sadly. He 
wouldn't touch his dinner, but lay down near her, with the lump 
between his paws, as if guarding it for her ; and there I left him, 
patiently waiting, in spite of his hunger, till his mate could share 
it with him. As I took a last look at his fine old face, I named 
him Douglas, and walked away, humming to myself the lines of the 
ballad, 

" Douglas, Douglas, 
Tender and true." 

As a contrast to the wild beasts, I went to see the monkeys, who 
lived in a fine large house, all to themselves. Here was every 
variety, from the great ugly chimpanzee, to the funny little fellows 
who played like boys and cut up all sorts of capers. A mamma 
sat tending her baby, and looking so like a little old woman, that 
I laughed till the grey monkey with the blue nose scolded at me. 
He was a cross old party, and sat huddled up in the straw, scowl- 
ing at every one, like an ill-tempered old bachelor. Half a dozen 
little ones teased him capitally by dropping bits of bread, nut-shells, 
and straws down on him from above, as they climbed about the 
perches or swung by their tails. One poor little chap had lost the 
curly end of his tail, I'm afraid the grey one bit it off, and kept 



84 MY MAY-DAY AMONG CURIOUS BIRDS AND BEASTS. [March, 

trying to swing like the others, forgetting that the strong curly end 
was what he held on with. He would run up the bare boughs, and 
give a jump, expecting to catch and swing, but the lame tail wouldn't 
hold him, and down he'd go, bounce on to the straw. At first, he'd 
sit and stare about him, as if much amazed to find himself there ; 
then he'd scratch his little round head, and begin to scold violently, 
which seemed to delight the other monkeys ; and finally, he'd exam- 
ine his poor little tail, and appear to understand the misfortune 
which had befallen him. The funny expression of his face was 
irresistible, and I enjoyed seeing him very much, and gave him a 
bun to comfort him when I went away. 

The snake-house came next, and I went in, on my way to visit 
the rhinoceros family. I rather like snakes, since I had a tame 
green one, who lived under the doorstep, and would come out and 
play with me on sunny days. These snakes I found very interest- 
ing, only they got under their blankets and wouldn't come out, and 
I wasn't allowed to poke them ; so I missed seeing several of the 
most curious. An ugly cobra laid and blinked at me through the 
glass, looking quite as dangerous as he was. There were big and 
little snakes, black, brown, and speckled, lively and lazy, pretty 
and plain ones, but I liked the great boa best. 

When I came to his cage, I didn't see anything but the branch 
of a tree, such as I had seen in other cages, for the snakes to wind 
up and down. " Where is he, I wonder ? I hope he hasn't got out," 
I said to myself, thinking of a story I read once of a person in a 
menagerie, who turned suddenly and saw a great boa gliding toward 
him. As I stood, wondering if the big worm could be under the 
little flat blanket before me, the branch began to move all at once, 
and with a start, I saw a limb swing down to stare at me with the 
boa's glittering eyes. He was so exactly the color of the bare 
bough, and lay so still, I had not seen him till he came to take a 
look at me. A very villainous-looking reptile he was, and I felt 
grateful that I didn't live in a country where such unpleasant 
neighbors might pop in upon you unexpectedly. He was kind 
enough to take a promenade, and show me his size, which seemed 
immense, as he stretched himself, and then knotted his rough, grey- 
ish body into a great loop, with the fiery-eyed head in the middle. 
He was not one of the largest kind, but I was quite satisfied, and 
left him to his dinner of rabbits, which I hadn't the heart to stay 
and see him devour alive. 

I was walking toward the camel's pagoda, when, all of a sudden, 



I868.J MY MAY-DAY AMONG CURIOUS BIRDS AND BEASTS. 85 

a long, dark, curling thing came over my shoulder, and I felt warm 
breath in my face. " It's the boa ! " I thought, and gave a skip 
which carried me into the hedge, where I stuck, much to the amuse- 
ment of some children riding on the elephant whose trunk had 
frightened me. He had politely tried to tell me to clear the 
way, which I certainly had done with all speed. Picking myself 
out of the hedge, I walked beside him, examining his clumsy feet, 
and peering up at his small intelligent eye. I'm very sure he 
winked at me, as if enjoying the joke, and kept poking his trunk 
into my pocket, hoping to find something eatable. 

I felt as if I had got into a foreign country, as I looked about 
me, and saw elephants and camels walking among the trees ; flocks 
of snow-white cranes stalking over the grass, on. their long scarlet 
legs ; striped zebras racing ' in their paddock ; queer kangaroos 
hopping about, with little ones in their pouches ; pretty antelopes 
chasing one another ; and, in an immense wire-covered aviary, all 
sorts of brilliant birds were flying about, as gaily as if at home. 

One of the curiosities was a sea-cow, who lived in a tank of salt 
water, and came at the keeper's call to kiss him, and flounder on its 
flippers along the margin of the tank after a fish. It was very like 
a seal, only much larger, and had four fins instead of two. Its eyes 
were lovely, so dark and soft and liquid ; but its mouth was not 
pretty, and I declined one of the damp kisses which it was ready to 
dispense at word of command. 

The great polar bear lived next door, and spent his time splash- 
ing in and out of a pool of water, or sitting on 'a block of ice, pant- 
ing, as if the mild spring day was blazing midsummer. He looked 
very unhappy, and I thought it a pity that they didn't invent a big 
refrigerator for him. 

These are not half of the wonderful creatures I saw, but I have 
not room to tell more ; only I advise all who can, to pay a visit to 
the Zoological Gardens, when they go to London, for it is one of 
the most interesting sights in that fine old city. 




LITTLE PEARL. 



[March, 





LITTLE PEARL. 

CHAPTER I. PLAYING MOTHER. 
(Continued from the February Number.) 

HY, it's Snip," she cried ; " nobody but poor, dear, 
old Snip ; and come quick, Agnes, I guess he has 
got another awful sick spell, he is lying down 
on the piazza." 

Snip was an old, kind-hearted Dutchman, whom 
Dr. Marsh had once hired to work in the woods ; but Mrs. Marsh 
being without a servant at one time, and unable to get one, Snip, 
in gratitude for many kindnesses shown him, had made himself 
useful as cook, housemaid, nurse, and everything; for there was 
nothing but that he would do, for Mrs. Marsh and the children, 
everything but leave off taking strong drink, and that, the poor 
fellow was far too fond of to renounce. After awhile, he became 
such trouble, that the doctor sent him away, and told him not to 
come back again ; and he had not been there but once before since 
the mother died, and then he was his own true self, now, he could 
not stand. 

The children did not know what was the matter with him. Snip, 
not wanting to lose their confidence and regard, had begged that 
they might never know, that it was through his own weakness and 
wrongdoing, that he was so often sick. 

" Oh, poor Snip ! " said Agnes, as she quickly opened the win- 
dow, and went to him. " Dear Snip, did you fall ? have you hurt 
you ? are you sick ? " asked Agnes, all in a breath. 

Snip smiled, but didn't speak. 

" Don't you see, he's sick ? " said Gassy ; " and the best thing 
we can do, is to get him into the house before Miss Muggins comes, 
or she won't let him come in at all. It's no use to give him any- 



1868.] LITTLE PEARL. 87 

thing to take, all he wants is to go to bed. That is what mother 
used to say." 

" How are we going to get him into the house ? " said Agnes. 

"In the window, there is no other way." 

" Snip, don't you believe you can get up ? " asked Agnes ; " you'll 
get your death of cold out here. Come into the house, and lie 
down on the bed. Miss Muggins has gone off, and locked the 
door ; but won't you go to the window, and try to get in ? We'll 
help you, Snip. Please do, dear Snip ? " 

" Vot you vant ? " murmured Snip ; " you see vot I got here ; " 
and the poor fellow felt round to find his pockets, for Snip always 
had some sweetmeats for the children. 

" Oh, no matter about candy now, Snip," said Cassy, casting a 
pleased glance at the well-filled pockets ; " all we want, is to take 
care of you." 

And finally, after much coaxing and great trouble, they managed 
to get Snip on his feet and at the window. And there he stood, 
leaning forward on the sill, looking so smiling and free from pain, 
that they ceased troubling him for a while. 

"I got someting for you shilden," he said, finding 
his pockets, at last, and drawing out a great handful of nuts and 
candy, and giving it to Agnes, and another handful to Cassy, and 
a little box of figs and a paper of peppermints to Pearl ; and when 
Bliss took his share, his little chubby hands couldn't hold all that 
was given, and more than half fell to the floor. And it amused 
Snip so much, to see Bliss pick it up, that he took another great 
handful out of his pocket, and threw it across the room ; and then 
he laughed so heartily and so long, that Agnes and Cassy were 
afraid that he was "out of his head." 

" I do wish that we could get him in," said Cassy. " Miss Mug- 
gins will be here pretty soon ; you see if she isn't ! Dear Snip, do 
please try to get into the window," she said ; "just lean over, and 
try, and we'll help you." 

But Snip was in a new mood now, he was smoothing Pearl's 
long flaxen curls, and crying over them. 

" Dear, how he does act ! " said Cassy ; " we'll never get him in, 
I know." 

But Snip did try to get in at last. He tried, and fell headlong 
info the room ; and the children were so afraid that he was hurt, that 
they all began to cry. But Snip blandly smiled away their fears, 
and after a few moments, they managed to get him into their little 



88 LITTLE PEARL. [March, 

bedroom and on the bed ; and then Agnes gave him some warm 
ginger-tea, and bathed his head, and left him to go to sleep. 

" Dear, I'm so glad that it is all over with," said Gassy, after 
they had gone back into the kitchen ; " and now, let us put all of 
this candy and stuff out of the way, or Miss Muggins will want to 
know where we got them. And, Pearl, you had better stop crying, 
and put Noody upstairs, or she will want to know how she got 
hurt." (Snip, in getting on the bed, had fallen on poor Noody, 
and almost killed her; and Pearl was in great distress about it.) 

" I'll wash up all the dishes," said Agnes, " if you will dress Bliss 
in his old clothes again, Cassy, and sweep the floor." 

And they all began to work as hard as they could, that every- 
thing might be in order, when Miss Muggins returned ; but, before 
they got half through, they heard her unlock the door. 

" Now, Bliss, don't you tell that Snip is here," said Agnes ; " we 
don't want her to know anything about it. Remember, now ! " 

" No, I vont," said Bliss ; and Miss Muggins entered the room. 

" Well, what have you been doing, turning everything upside- 
down ? Did you eat all them eggs up ? I haven't had my dinner, 
yet. Why didn't you wait till I got back ? You little plagues, 
you ! if you have eaten them eggs, I'll " 

"Miss Muggins, I'll just tell my father of you ! " said Cassy, her 
dark eyes flashing. " Go away, and stay all day, and then scold, 
because we got our dinners ! We had a good right to the eggs ; 
they wasn't yours. I'll tell my father, how you treat us ! " 

Cassy had never been so bold before, and Agnes trembled for 
the result. But Miss Muggins, though her face was red with 
anger, only said, 

" Don't you give me any of your sauce ! " and then turned, and 
asked Pearl what she had been crying about. 

" Noody brote her lade," said Bliss. 

"Did Noody lay an egg today?" asked Miss Muggins. "I'll 
have Nood's egg for my dinner," and she started to go to the bed- 
room. 

" Oh, there is no egg there, there is no egg there, Miss Muggins. 
Noody didn't lay an egg today ! " cried Agnes, pale with fright, 
and catching hold of Miss Muggins's gown. 

Miss Muggins looked suspicious. She pushed the children 
aside, and went directly to the bedroom. 

" Good gracious ! " she exclaimed, as she opened the door, 
"where did that beast come from ? " and the door was closed in 
great haste. 



1868.] LITTLE PEARL. 89 

All explanations and excuses were of no avail. Miss Muggins 
raged in a fearful manner, and at last went softly back to the door 
and locked it. 

''There ! " she said, as she put the key in her pocket, "he won't 
get out of there till the doctor comes home, anyway, the drunken 
old brute ! " 

As she entered the hall, she noticed that the sitting-room door 
was open. 

" Well, sakes alive ! how did that get opened ? " she said ; and 
then there was another great fuss, and she went in and put out the 
fire, and took Cress and the rosebush back into the kitchen. 

" Now, you young ones, march upstairs ; and don't let me catch 
one of you down here again till supper-time ; " and she gave each 
a push into the hall, and shut the kitchen-door and fastened it. 

" I never, since I was born, saw such a hateful, old wretch ! " 
said Gassy ; and she began to cry as hard as she could. 

" Oh, don't cry, Gassy ; you'll wake up poor Snip," said little 
Pearl. " Please don't, dear Gassy ? " 

Agnes was crying, too, but not aloud. She was thinking what 
she should do, if Snip should happen to awake and need anything. 

" I don't care, we've got a good lot of nuts and candy, anyway, 
haven't we ? " said Gassy, laughing out all at once, in the midst 
of her tears ; " and let us go upstairs, and eat it all up. I ain't 
agoing to be good any longer ; it's no use, where that bad old 
thing is." 

"No, Gassy, we mustn't give up," said Agnes, "and we have 
eaten all we ought to eat now ; let us keep the rest till tomorrow, 
and then have a good time with it. Come come up into the 
playroom again ! " and she started to go ahead. 

After the pleasant parlor, how cheerless the playroom seemed ; 
the fire had gone out, and everything was in confusion. 

" Oh, dear, dear ! " exclaimed Agnes, looking disheartened. 
" There is nothing in this world but trouble ! " 

" Yes, here is some sugar-plums, and sticks of candy, and nuts 
and raisins, and apples and figs ! " said Gassy, spreading her 
niceties out on the floor in most tempting array. " Have you got 
as much as this, Agnes ? " 

" I don't know," said Agnes, sitting down on the floor beside 
Gassy, and displaying her share. 

" Bliss has got more than all ! Bliss, it will kill you, if you eat 
all that ! " said Gassy ; " let me put some of it away with mine, till 
tomorrow ? " 



LITTLE PEARL. 



[March, 




" No, I vont," said Bliss ; " I des you'd tate it all yerself ! " and 
he crammed it into his little pockets as fast as he could. 

While Agnes and Gassy were trying to make Bliss put his part 
away, and not eat any more, they kept tasting and tasting of theirs, 
until finally, they began in earnest to eat all that they wanted ; and 
in a short time, they had nothing left but a few pieces of broken 
candy, which they put aside, to give to Lule and Susy Fenwick. 

Everything went wrong now. They had eaten so much, that 
they were almost sick, and there is nothing that so clouds the 
mind and deadens the heart, as overeating ; this, the dear mother 
had often told them ; and now that Agnes had wilfully done^one 
wrong thing, she was ready to do another. So, when Bliss had 
fallen asleep on the floor, and Pearl was busy over Noody in one 
corner of the room, and Gassy had gone downstairs after some 
water, she put on her hat, and crept softly out of the house, and 
ran as quickly as she could to the grove. 



1 868.] LITTLE PEARL. 9 1 

"Why, what's the matter, child ?" said Mrs. Fenwick, as she 
met Agnes at the door ; " you are all out of breath, and your face 
is as red as a piny ! What made you run so ? " 

" I came to see Lule," said Agnes, " and I didn't want Gassy to 
know." 

" Well, come in, dear ; but I reckon you won't find a place to 
set down. The boys have ben out huntin', and have jest come in 
to their dinner ; and Sarah is washing today ! " 

Agnes did, indeed, find things in confusion ; and Lule was sitting 
in a corner, taking care of the baby, and looking as cross as cross 
could be. 

" Coin' to have great times to our house, tomorro'," said Ben, 
Lule's oldest brother : " Sal is goin' to be married. Did you know 
that, Miss ? She's goin' to marry that old man you've seen hop- 
ping round here so much lately." 

"Hold yer tongue ! " said Sarah ; "or I'll give yer face a wash- 
ing with these here suds ! " 

o 

" He's had two wives already ! " Ben went on ; " and what he 
wants another one for, I don't see. And he's got about forty-two 
children, Miss ; and so, tomorro' " 

" Marm," said Sarah, " make Ben shut up, will you ? " 

" So tomorro', at this time, Miss Sal will be Marm Sykes, and 
I'll be Uncle Benjamin. Sal, if you don't make them boys call 
me uncle, I won't come to see you." 

" Lule," whispered Agnes, " is Sarah agoing to be married to- 
morrow ? " 

" Yes, she is," said Lule ; " and we've got a lot of good things 
cooked, and dad has bought her a splendid dress to stand up in ; 
it's all covered over with silk flowers. I'll show it to you, if this 
young one ever gets to sleep. And oh, Agnes ! Uncle John and 
Aunt Maria, and my little cousins, are all comin' tonight ! Oh, I 
tell you, my little cousins have got some awful nice clothes ! 
Uncle John is awful rich; they've got lots of white aprons, all 
trimmed with edgin', and silk dresses, and everything ! I want you 
to see 'em. You and Gas will come to the weddin', won't you ? " 

" May I ? " asked Agnes ; " oh, I'd like to ! " 

" Yes, of course. Sha'n't she, marm, she and Gas come to the 
weddin'?" 

" If they want to," said Mrs. Fenwick, " and their father's will- 
ing." 

Agnes forgot all her troubles in a moment ; her face beamed 
with delight. 



92 THE LOGGERS; OR, [March, 

" Fix up nice, won't you ? " said Lule. 

Agnes turned away, and looked out of the window. As she did 
so, she saw Gassy coming, running with all her might, and Miss 
Muggins after her. 

" Holloa ! " exclaimed Ben, looking out at the same time ; " that 
young one is a runner, I tell yer ! " 

" Oh, dear, do let me hide ? " cried Agnes ; (" Go under the wood- 
shed," said Ben,) and she ran out of the back-door, just as Cassy 
reached the house. 

" Go, hide under the woodshed, with Agnes ! " said Ben, opening 
the door for Cassy ; " the old lady won't find you there ! " 

But Miss Muggins did find them, and drove them from their 
hiding-place, and then they ran out on the prairie, and dared her 
to catch them ; and being in very high temper, she chased them 
round and round, until at last she did succeed in catching Agnes ; 
but Cassy ran back to the grove, and waited there until she saw 
her father pass, and then ran and jumped up behind the carriage, 
and rode home. 



THE LOGGERS ; OR, SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS 

OF MAINE. 

ST. CROIX, OR SCHOODIC RIVZR. 
(Continued from the February Number.) 




you go to insinuating Jim," said the old 
Deacon. " I've kinder taken that young chap, 
sleepin' over there, into my hands ; an' I know, 
when he gets well, he'll make an out-an-outer. 
No shammin' I tell you ! " 

" He won't get well ! " said Sacker. 
" But he will ! " replied Deacon, with much emphasis. " I know 
it, for he gets stronger every day ; and what's more, he's 'tarmined 
to get well hisself, an' that helps 'mazingly. Afore the ' drivin' ' is 
over, he'll lick Jim, if he wants to I tell you ! " 

Another shout went up with the smoke and steam, at Jim's ex- 
pense ; but of course, I didn't allow it to disturb me. 

" Shet up ! can't ye, an' not wake him ; sleep is good as medi- 
cine for weak folks." 



1 868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 93 

" Faith, an' wasn't he the wake one when we brought him on 
the slid ? " said irrepressible Jim. " Indade, an' I thought he'd go 
home a corrups on that same, before this day, sure ! In me breast, 
I called his uncle a murtherin' fool, to send the likes o' he to the 
wilderness ! " 

" You see, his uncle knew something, don't ye ? Lend us yer 
needle, Pat, to sew the buttons on my breeches ; and then I 
must strengthen them on my vest, afore the big moose an' deer 
get along, that ye intend shooting. Nothing fats a feller faster; 
lend us your needle, Jim ? " 

"It's lint intirely ; Tom Clelan's got it making a ' gum-bag ' 
for his sweetheart, sure ! No ; Tom is lying on his back, smoking. 
Hollo, there ! who's got the needle ? " 

The needle is found at last in the hand of Sacker ; who, finding 
he couldn't write, has made four little bags out of the lining of his 
vest, and filled them with clear spruce gum, for his children at 
home. 

Bang ! goes a book against the side of the camp ; and a boy 
near me jumps up, saying, 

" Confound the choking thing ! What's the use writing books 
that way ? Makes a feller tremble like a popple-tree, or an ager 
fit, drizzling at the eyes. I never did try to read that ' Uncle 
Tom's Cabin,' without making a blubberin' fool of myself. And 
now, if I really did believe the slaves were treated in that way," 
standing erect and stretching forth his brawny arms, " if I really 
did, I'd desert this camp before sunrise, and join the army, to put 
down slaveholders ! " 

" Goodness gracious ! " cried out another, with a comical drawn- 
down face ; " the child is taking the Patriotics, and must have a 
good dose of pennyroyal to drive it out, for it might strike to his 
vitals, an' kill him quicker than the measles. He's gitten delir- 
ious now, talking of leaving this camp afore sunrise, when there's 
e'en a'most a foot of snow." 

" Shut up ! will you ? " exclaimed the youth ; his bright, excited 
face losing much of its enthusiasm. " You make fun of everything 
out of your track ; but there is a bigger world than ever you con- 
ceived of, and I mean to know something about it yet. If there is 
fighting to be done for a good cause, I'm the boy to help do it, 
that's all, laugh much as you may." 

From my soul, I could say " Amen ! " and longed to hug the 
youth to my heart ; but chose to remain quiet, and listen to the 
crude, original remarks. 



94 



THE LOGGERS; OR, [March, 



" By St. Patrick ! " said our Irish friend, coming in from the 
door, "but this is the storm intirely ; an' I'd give half me wages 
for a good drink of ' Jamaky ' ! " 

" Take a sip from the teakettle," said Cook, as he passed him a 
tin dipper. 

" Niver a drap of tay goes into me stomach, that's longin' for the 
cratur, sure ! " 

" What'll ye do ? " 

" Do ? I'll remimber the taste of the Jamaky till I get some 
more. Why, the remimbrance of that same is 'better nor all the 
tay in Amiraky ! " 

" Now, Pat, you know what a curse rum has been in your family." 

" In me breast, I know it ; but, faith, there's a spot here " touch- 
ing the pit of his stomach "that tell's anither story. Me head 
says 'Nay, nay, Jim,' an' me stomach ' Yes, yes,' intirely." 

" But, Pat, you can leave off, and will leave off, if ye try hard," 
said Sacker. " I've been over the whole ground, an' should have 
been dead now, God knows, if I hadn't stopped drinking. Why, I 
had sich a hankerin', I couldn't sleep nights, thinkin' on it, sich 
a burnin', cravin' feelin', that many's the time I've got up nights 
for a drink of water, and made it black with pepper ! The doctor 
said my stomach was all inflamed, an' I couldn't live a year, if I 
kept on drinkin' liquor. My face looked red, and swelled up ; an' 
I was techy, and couldn't bear to see my wife look pale. If she 
was awful still, an' looked like for to cry, I was mad at her, cos I 
knew she was thinkin' of my failins'. An' then I was cross with 
every one ; an' one time, struck my wee girl ! Yes, I did, sir ! " 
the perspiration in large drops starting all over his rough, but 
kindly face. " I struck her, a little child, a heavy blow, and 
shook her, and sent her out of my sight, drunken pUppy, that 
I was ; but it cured me ! " 

" How how ? " was the anxious inquiry. 

" Well, you see, the little thing was scared, and run away to her 
aunt's, an' wouldn't come back; it's^, fact, all the coaxin' I could 
do wouldn't bring her. Her mother's face grew white nor whiter, 
an' I began to think, 'Well, John Gray; which'll ye have, liquor 
or love ? they can't go together, that's plain ! ' An' so I wheeled 
right square round, an' I tell you, there's no other way. I had a 
hard time of it, for the hankerin' was awful ; but I conquered ! 
Thank God, I conquered ; an' my wife is the happiest woman in 
Schoodic ; an' my little gal clings to me like a burr. She's most 



l868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 95 

nine year old, and she sits in my lap of evenings now, kissin', an' 
tellin' her little yarns. Bless her ! I wish I had her here now, or 
that I could have writ that letter ! " 

" Have you no other child ? " I asked, lifting my head from under 
the paper. 

" Sartain yes three tearing smart boys ; but none of 'em 
seems like my little gal, so thoughtsome-like, an' loving ! " 

The stormy day, and the chat of the backwoodsmen, are nearly 
ended. The " Teamster," who has just come in from his cattle, 
says there's a stiff Scotch mist, and the night is dark as Egypt. 
Most of the men are sleeping ; but a few are near the fire, strap- 
ping, and fitting snow-shoes, in anticipation of a crust for hunting. 

\\th. Glorious! glorious! clear and cold today; snow just 
enough stiffened, to make travelling on snow-shoes easy ! 

Now for the moose-hunting I have longed for ! Hurrah ! hurrah ! 
for the American elk ! hurrah ! for the reindeer ! 

Four or five of our men are ready, with guns, ammunition, and 
food for several days. 

Am I going ? Are you well enough ? I seem to hear you say. 
Of course, I'm going. I believe I should die, if I didn't or try to, 
anyway. Why, I am so excited, I can scarcely stand on my feet ; 
my cap is up in the air, and occasionally, my heels, too. Whoop 
whoop hurrah ! Why, just think of it, Frank, a real moose- 
hunt ! Isn't it worth living in the woods a year for ? Come on, 
boys, come on ! 

14*6. We got him, Frank, a noble fellow, weighing at least 
eight hundred pounds ! and I am to have the hide, my uncle says ; 
and then you can see what game we have in these forests. But I 
must go back, and tell you the whole story. 

We started on the nth, four men, with your humble servant. 
The novelty of running on snow-shoes was great, almost realizing 
my childish ideas of seven-leagued boots, they took you so rapidly 
over the snow. They are three or four feet long, and rather nar- 
row ; ash-wood bows, and woven across, with leather or moose- 
hide thongs, like basket-work, with straps for the feet. Two or 
three pairs of stockings, and moccasins, are worn with them. The 
great surface they cover so lightly prevents our sinking through; 
while the sharp small hoof of the game causes them to slump 
through the crust continually. 

Until noon, the second day, we saw nothing that interested us ; 
then we heard the tinkling of sleigh-bells. We followed up the 



96 THE LOGGERS; OR, [March, 

sound, and found ourselves out on the road, in full sight of a 
" pung," and my good uncle with an Indian by his side ! I assure 
you, he looked glad when he saw my improved condition, and told 
me, " he came up to take a look at me, and some moose, too, if he 
could get the chance." 

A consultation was held, and it was decided to send one man 
back to camp with the horse, while we continued the hunt as long 
as the provisions held out. One or two buffalo robes were strapped 
and slung over the backs of the strongest men. 

My uncle, and " Pete " (the new Indian), arranged their snow- 
shoes, and away we started. Before night, it became certain, by 
Pete's curious manner, that we were on the track of moose ; and 
when darkness came on, I expressed my disappointment. " Never 
min we have 'em yet," said the Indian, snapping his fingers. 
" Mooses neber go off that way," throwing his hand forward in a 
tangent ; " always come round this so sartain, " describing 
a circle. No camp being near us, it was decided to build a large 
fire, and scoop out the snow in some way, to make us comfortable 
for the night. 

The men worked diligently in digging our bed ; and with snow 
piled high all around us, and the buffalo robes over us, we man- 
aged to pass the night very comfortably. At the earliest dawn we 
awoke, and eating part of our food, and fastening on our snow- 
shoes, before a great fire, we started. To our great joy, we soon 
found that Pete was right ; we were within the circle of a " moose 
beat," and should soon come upon them. It seems, a few moose 
congregate together and tramp the snow around in a circle, some- 
times of a mile or less, within which they browse upon the young 
trees and undergrowth. There are various cross-roads within the 
circle, and many of them had the appearance of being tramped 
down by horses' hoofs. 

The sun had hardly risen, when we discovered one of these 
noble animals, looming up magnificently, as he roamed about the 
forest in search of his breakfast. Like an epicure, he tasted of 
one green, then of another, daintily shaking his head, and elevat- 
ing his nostrils, quite unconscious of the bullets waiting for him. 

I was delighted with this opportunity of seeing the natives of 
the forest perfectly at home. No museum can give us their pecu- 
liar movements and appearance half as well as one glance at them 
in this manner. Pete says, "he hear 'em soon soon smell 'em!" 
and so he seems to be scenting us, or his danger ; and the grand 
chase commences. 



i868.] 



SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 



97 




The report of the first gun failing to hit him : has started him 
off in a peculiar rapid trot, head protruded. Away we fly, over the 
crust ; now catching glimpses of him through forest- aisles, again 
losing all sight of our noble game. 

Toward noon, and just as we were despairing of oar morning 
game, we came upon the track of a pair of these grand animals. 

The greatest excitement prevailed ; my graduating-day won't be 
a circumstance to this one, Frank ; even my uncle, so very digni- 
fied at home, hallooed and shouted like a boy. 

In less than an hour, we had run down, and shot one of them. 
The exertion and excitement began to tell upon me, and my uncle 
insisted upon my return to camp. Two or three men were de- 
tailed to skin and dress the moose ; and as much as possible, we 
took along with us. 

I never enjoyed a steak more, than the one we broiled before 
starting. It much resembles beef, and is highly esteemed by 



98 THE LOGGERS. [March, 

epicures. The exercise and pure cold air made me enjoy it more 
than a porter-house steak under cover. 

Before we left the " beat, " I stumbled over a protruding moose- 
horn, and, by digging a little, I found the most splendid specimen 
of the kind you can imagine. And I mean to have them fixed up in 
our room at college ; perhaps the skin stuffed and set up, antlers 
and all, " ship-shape ; " for I am almost sure / shot the fellow, 
although several others took aim at him. 

Five or six men have gone for the meat, and to assist in the 
chase, feeling almost sure they will take one or two more moose 
on that "beat." 

i6//z. Uncle, and all the rest, have come back, completely tired 
out. They succeeded in taking one more moose, which is proba- 
bly the first one we saw. He is immensely large, and is to be 
taken home whole. The men say he will weigh fully nine hundred, 
dressed. As he lies stretched upon the sled, I can hardly help 
feeling pity for the monster. Such a huge, strange animal, evi- 
dently formed to feed upon trees, like the cameleopard, the head 
and fore-shoulders setting so high, and the hinder-parts drooping. 

A gentleman in C , it appears, succeeded in partially 

taming a pair ; harnessed and drove them as a span a few times, 
but finally sold them to go west, where they only lived a few 
months. 

My uncle tells me, " that he once started early in the morning 
for wild pigeons, and saw a moose come rushing forward, over 
fences, and almost into the very village. If my uncle had been 
cautious, and taken bullets, he might have shot the animal, not an 
eighth of a mile from his own door." 

Such instances were very rare, however, even in the early settle- 
ment of the country, and never occurred unless the game was 
driven in by the Indians. 




1 868.] 



MY DOVES. 



99 




PPOSITE my chamber window, 

On the sunny roof, at play, 
High above the city's tumult, 

Flocks of doves sit day by day. 
Shining necks and snowy bosoms, 

Little rosy, tripping feet, 
Twinkling eyes and fluttering wings, 

Cooing voices, low and sweet, 

Graceful games and friendly meetings, 

Do I daily watch to see. 
For these happy little neighbors 

Always seem at peace to be. 
On my window-ledge, to lure them, 

Crumbs of bread I often strew, 
And, behind the curtain hiding, 

Watch them flutter to and fro. 

Soon they cease to fear the giver, 

Quick are they to feel my love, 
And my alms are freely taken 

By the shyest little dove. 
In soft flight, they circle downward, 

Peep in through the window-pane ; 
Stretch their gleaming necks to greet me, 

Peck and coo, and come again. 



100 



BUNNY. [March, 

Faithful little friends and neighbors, 

For no wintry wind or rain, 
Household cares or airy pastimes, 

Can my loving birds restrain. 
Other friends forget, or linger, 

But each day I surely know 
That my doves will come and leave here 

Little footprints in the snow. 

So, they teach me the sweet lesson, 

That the humblest may give 
Help and hope, and in so doing, 

Learn the truth by which we live ; 
For the heart that freely scatters 

Simple charities and loves, 
Lures home content, and joy, and peace, 

Like a soft-winged flock of doves. 

L. M. Alcott. 




BUNNY. 



OMMY was a bright boy, and very fond of 
pets. As a reward for conquering a bad 
habit, his father gave him a pair of pretty 
young rabbits. He loved them, and watched 
over them, and fed them very carefully. But suddenly, from some 
unknown cause, one of them died. Tommy was sad enough about 
it ; and took great pains to bury his little favorite under a tree on 
the lawn. He got a bit of marble for a head-stone, and asked his 
older brother, Ned, for an epitaph. Ned was a waggish fellow, 
and, quizzing poor Tommy, he wrote this : 

Reader, here a rabbit lies ; 
White was his fur and pink his eyes ; 
His little mate deplores his loss, 
And Tom, the money that he cost. 

Tommy didn't like either the poetry or the sentiment \ and so 
he only scratched on the stone, 

BUNNY, AGED 3 MONTHS. 



i868.] 



THE LITTLE DYKEMAN. 



101 





THE LITTLE DYKEMAN. 



FROM THE FRENCH OF MADAME EUGENIE FOA. 



LONG time ago, a very long time ago, a man and 
woman lived in the city of Harlem, in Holland. 
The man was a dykeman, that is to say, a man 
who takes care of the dykes. Do you know what 
the dykes are ? No ! 

I am going to tell you. Holland is a country 



102 THE LITTLE DYKEMAN. [March, 

surrounded by canals, rivers, and rivulets. If the water were not 
held back by the dykes, Holland would be more frequently under 
the water than over it, and that would be neither healthy nor 
agreeable to the inhabitants. Now this flood is kept in its place 
by immense wooden doors, which are set a great distance from 
each other, and shut off the entrance to the reservoir which holds 
the water. When the land needs moisture, the dykeinan raises the 
gate a little, or much, if it is necessary to have much water, 
just as you would move the handle of a pump ! But he always 
closes the gates before he goes to bed, for fear the water should 
run in the night, and overflow the banks, or flood the country, and 
destroy the inhabitants. That is well known, even the children 
are aware of that. 

But I must tell you about the dykeman. He had a little boy 
eight years old. One day, this little boy asked permission to carry 
a cake to a poor old man, who lived near the floodgates. 

" Go, but do not stay long," said his father. 

This, the boy promised, and went away. The blind man was 
pleased with the cake, for he was poor, and did not have such a 
treat every day. The boy was glad that he had made the blind 
man happy ; and as soon as he had seen him eat the cake, he said 
" Good-by," and obeyed his father, by returning home immediately. 

All along the borders of the canals, filled with water, because 
it was in October, when they are flooded by the autumn rains, 
the boy sang, and stopped to gather flowers, little blue flowers, 
which his mother dearly loved. And gaily, thoughtlessly, like any 
child of his age, he stooped and rose again, sang and threw his 
sweet, fresh voice out on the air, and at the same time, cast to the 
winds, the same pretty little blue flowers, that he cared for no 
longer. The path became still more lonely, and the country 
seemed deserted ; for you could no longer hear the footsteps of 
the cottager going to his home, or the voice of the wagoner shout- 
ing to his mules. The little boy very soon saw, that the blue tint 
of the little flowers could not be easily distinguished from the 
green leaves of the larger bushes. He looked at the sky ; night 
was approaching. Not like a dark, winter night, but a clear, se- 
rene, and beautiful one, in which objects could be seen distinctly, 
not quite so plainly as in daylight, but still very clearly. The boy 
thought of his father, and of his advice ; and he began to climb out 
of the hollow, into which he had descended, and to ascend the 
hill. Suddenly, the faint sound of water, trickling over the stones, 



l868.] THE LITTLE DYKEMAN. IQJ 

arrested his attention. He was near one of the great floodgates of 
the dyke. He looked about, he searched for the place where the 
sound came from, and soon discovered a crack in the wood ; and 
through the crack, the water was running. 

I have told you before, that there was not a child in Holland,' 
who did not understand the mischief this would make. The 
stream of water, which was no bigger at first than your finger, 
would soon enlarge the hole, increase, become a cascade, a great 
sheet of water, a torrent, then a terrible inundation, which would 
cause the ruin of the inhabitants, and perhaps, their death. The 
little Hollander did not hesitate a moment ; he threw away the 
flowers that he held, and climbing from stone to stone, until he 
reached the crack, boldly pushed his finger into the hole, and saw, 
with delight, that the water ceased to run it could not get out. 

It was all very well at first ; the boy was rejoiced at his strata- 
gem ; but the night grew darker, and with night and darkness came 
the cold. The boy looked about he called no one came ; no- 
body heard him. He determined to wait until the day dawned. 
But alas ! the cold became more and more intense, and the finger, 
that was placed in the hole was quite benumbed ; from the finger, 
the numbness spread to the hand, then to the arm, and reached 
the shoulder but the boy did not stir from the spot. His distress 
became more intense, and more and more intolerable. The little 
dykeman cried ; he thought of his mother's anxiety, and about his 
father, and his little bed at home, where he could sleep so soundly ; 
but he did not stir. For if the water had burst through the re- 
straint, which his little finger opposed to its fury, he would have 
been drowned ; and not only him, but his father, his mother, and 
even the'whole village. So he wept ; but he did not stir. 

Daylight found him in this perilous position, without his courage 
having failed for an instant. At that time, the curate who was 
returning from passing the night by a dying man came that way, 
on his return to the parsonage. As he heard groans in the pit, 
he looked down, and saw a child seated upon a stone, with a pale 
face, eyes filled with tears, and almost writhing in pain. 

" What are you doing there ? " inquired the curate. 

" I am keeping the water from running out," replied the little 
boy, innocently, who had displayed in a night, the courage and for- 
titude of a hero. 

Can you believe, that history has not preserved the name of the 
little dykeman who saved his country ? s. w. L. 




104 THE STORY OF MY CHICKENS. [March, 

THE STORY OF MY CHICKENS. 

NE day, when I was very sick, an ld 
Irishwoman, who wanted to be very 
kind to me, and had nothing else to 
give me, brought me a live hen ! In a 
day or two, Biddy began to cluck about 
the yard ; and I made a nest for her, 
and put an egg in it, hoping she would 
take the hint, and lay me some eggs for 
my breakfast. But she did not. She 
took her seat on the one egg, and there 
she sat, so long, that I knew she did 
not mean to come off until a little chick 
should grow in the egg. 
" So," said I, "old lady, if that's your game, I'll get some more 
eggs for you to sit on ; and if you won't lay eggs for my breakfast, 
you shall hatch chickens for my dinner." Then I bought thirteen 
beautiful, great white eggs, and put them under Mrs. Biddy, and 
she pretended to sit on them three weeks ; but she did not behave 
very well. She broke some of the eggs before the chickens were 
grown, and she strayed away from the nest pretty often ; and so 
the little chickens in the eggs were chilled with the cold, and died 
before they were born. 

At last, one day, I heard a great noise in the yard, and looking 
out, saw Mrs. Biddy strutting' about, followed by four little black 
chickens. She was very fierce, and scolded a great deal, and was 
altogether a cross mother, who did not seem to know how to man- 
age her children ; for she flew about so carelessly, that she crushed 
one little Blackie before he could walk much, and his poor little 
sister was drowned in her own porringer, before she was a week 
old. So, I had left, of my thirteen white eggs, only two tiny black 
chickens. 

They grew, and scratched in my garden all summer ; and when 
the snow came, I shut them up with their mother in a warm house, 
hoping that they would lay me eggs enough in the spring to pay 
me for all my trouble. 

But alas ! when spring came, young Blackies began to crow with 
all their might ; and by this, I knew they were cockerels, and that 



1868.] THE STORY OF MY CHICKENS. 105 

every time they said " Cock-a-doodle-doo," they meant " I'll lay no 
eggs for you." 

Then I bought four nice white hens, and fed them all I could ; 
and at last, one day, when I had quite forgotten that I expected 
any eggs, I found a nest full. 

I was as glad as if I had found six gold dollars ; so glad, that I 
thanked the good hens, and gave them more nice food, and they 
gave me every day, four lovely eggs, not white eggs, as you would 
think white hens would lay, but dark brown, speckled with white. 

But one day, when I went to bring in my eggs, I found only a 
nest full of broken shells. I was pretty angry for a moment. 
" You bad hens," said I, " do you eat your own eggs, after all my 
care ? " " Cock-a-doodle-doo," answered Blackie Rooster, which 
meant, I suppose, that if they did eat them, it was no business of 
mine, and he puffed himself up, and looked very big, and put on 
airs when he said it, as if he wished to add, " I rule here, and I 
won't stand any meddling with my family affairs." But the good 
hens seemed ashamed of his crossness to me, and they stammered 
out, " Cut-cut-cut-cut-cut-dah-cut," which meant, "don't feel so 
badly about it, we'll go right to work, and lay some more." And 
so they did ; but before I could get them, these too were all broken, 
but in such a way, that I was sure the good hens had not done it, 
but a bad rat. 

Rats love eggs, and they often steal them from the nests ; and 
how do you think they carry them off? I never saw them, but I 
have heard that Master Rat takes the egg in his four paws, turns 
over on his back, and cries, " Squeak, squeak." Then in comes 
his brother, and seizes Master Rat by the tail, and drags him off, 
egg and all, just as a boy would drag his sled by a ropt. This rat 
did not carry my eggs off, but ate them in the nest ; so I played a 
nice trick on him by giving him china eggs, which were too hard 
for his jaws to crack, and after that, he troubled me no more. 

One day, I said to the largest of my good hens, that I would 
give her her own eggs to sit on, if she would only hatch me some 
chickens. " Cluck, cluck ; I'll try," said she. So I made her a 
soft nest in a basket, which I put in a warm place, near the fur- 
nace, in our cellar. In this nest, I put eleven brown eggs, 
speckled with white (" there's luck in odd numbers," thought I) ; 
then I took Mistress White in my arms, and set her gently on the 
eggs. 

She bustled about in a very important manner, laid the eggs all 



106 THE STORY OF MY CHICKENS. [March, 




over in a different way, and talked, in her hen language, to me all 
the time, saying, I suppose, " You did the best you knew how, and 
I am much obliged to you ; but you see, you never laid any eggs, 
and, poor thing, you can't be expected to know much about it." 
After she had fixed them all to her mind, she sat down, and I 
covered her up with another basket. It was the fourth of March 
when she took her seat, and I remembered it, because it is the very 
date on which the President of the United States takes his seat, or 
begins to be President. 

Well, I fed her every morning, and took her off her nest to let 
her walk about a little ; but, for days and days, there were no signs 
of chickens. One Sunday morning, when I lifted her off as 
usual, I said, rather impatiently, " Old Biddy, I do believe you 
are fooling me, and that you never mean to turn those eggs into 
chickens." Then I covered her up and left her ; and now comes 
the strangest part of my story. 

The next morning, when I went down to feed her, I took hold 
of the upper basket, when " Cluck, cluck don't touch," said Mrs. 
Biddy, in warning tones. Then I heard a soft little peep, and 
before I could imagine what it was, there stood the dearest little 
Yellow-legs on his mother's back, chirping away at a great rate. 
" Cluck, cluck," said Biddy ; don't fall." " Peep, peep," whistled 
Yellow-legs, " who's afraid ? " and fell to eating corn-cake, as if he 
had been fed on it for years. 



l868.] THE STORY OF MY CHICKENS. 107 

" Cluck, cluck, see here ! " said Biddy to me, and pushed out 
from under her broad wings another little Yellow-legs, as like the 
first as could be. I hurried on the cover of the nest, and ran 
away, for I did not know but rats liked chickens as well as eggs, 
and I did not like to have the hen talk so much about her chil- 
dren, for fear the rats might hear; and besides, I was a little 
afraid my great cat might put his whiskers into the basket. 

In about an hour, I thought to myself, " Now, I cannot wait any 
longer ; I must go and find out how large a family Biddy has got." 
I took off the basket, lifted the mother-hen carefully off her brood, 
and such a beautiful sight as met my eyes ! My eleven dark 
brown eggs, speckled with white, all turned into eleven soft, little 
yellow balls, each little ball with two snapping black eyes, and two 
yellow-legs ! Each little yellow-ball blinked at me with his little 
black eyes, and started off at a round trot on his little yellow legs. 

The old hen cluck, clucked, and winked at me in a knowing 
way, as much as to say, " You thought you were very wise when 
you scolded at me yesterday, but I knew what I was about ; such 
chicks as those are not hatched in a hurry." 

I got some pudding, and the eleven little yellow down-balls ran 
at it, and ate great mouthfuls, and " peeped " away, as if they said, 
" Oh ! we never tasted anything half so good before." 

They grew large and strong very fast. One day, I found old 
Lady White sitting in the sun, with two of her children fast asleep 
on her back. " Cluck, cluck get down," said she, and shook 
them off, when she saw me. I gave her some worms, and you 
should have seen the chickens play at bobcherry for them with 
the old hen. One smart little chap, that could not jump high 
enough to reach his mother's bill, climbed up over her back to the 
top of her head, and seized the worm in that way. " Cluck, 
cluck shame! shame! rude boy," said Mrs. White; and all 
his brothers and sisters chased him, crying " Shame ! shame ! " 

But with all their mischievousness, I saw they meant to be very- 
good, for in the midst of their fun, their mother called them, 
" Cluck, cluck ! that will do, children," and they all stopped 
playing, and ran and cuddled down quite still under her wings. 

COUSIN ALICE. 



io8 UNCLE ROBERT'S LETTERS. [March, 




UNCLE ROBERT'S LETTERS. 

No. I. 

VENICE, May 5, 1867. 

MY DEAR LITTLE BESSIE, I am writing you this letter from 
Venice. Now, Venice is the queerest place you ever saw or heard 
of. It is a city, where men and women live, just as they do in 
Boston ; but it is built all in the water, and the streets are all the 
lime full of water, like little rivers. When I tell you that it is 
built in the water, I don't mean that it is a city built on a large 
island, and water all around it ; but it is like this : Suppose you 
should take your box of houses I gave you last Christmas, and 
stand the houses all together, and the two white churches, with the 
red roofs and tall spires, alongside of the houses, and put them all 
in a tin pan. Now, if you should pour a little water in the pan, the 
houses would all be standing in the water. Well ; that would be like 
Venice. It is built on seventy-two little islands, all close together, 
and the islands have little bridges across from one side to the other. 
Now all these seventy-two islands contain a great many houses, 
and their cellars are always in the water. The houses are built of 
marble, and stone, and brick ; because, you know, if they were built 
of wood, it would soon become rotten, and the houses fall down. 
Green seaweed, such as you find at Nahant on the rocks, grows 
around all the houses. "Well," you will say, "that must be a 
funny city." So it is ; for there are no horses and carriages there, 
and the little boys and girls can't play in the streets, as you see 
them do at home. Some little boys and girls grow up to be men 
and women, and have never seen a horse nor a cow, nor sheep. 
They can't go out snow-balling, because there is never any snow 
there ; and they can't go skating, because the water never freezes. 
The boys don't know what base-ball is ; and the little girls never 
heard of a croquet set. I wonder how you would like to live 



i868.] UNCLE ROBERT'S LETTERS. 109 

there ? You would have to be very careful, for if you dropped your 
thimble out of the window, it would sink down into the water, and 
you could not find it again ; or, if you should drop your beautiful 
Paris doll, she would get a cold bath, with all her fine clothes on. 
Winnie, too, would have to be very careful, for he is very fond of 
dropping his penknife and his marbles. But they don't have mar- 
bles here to play with, for they have no streets to play them in. 

Now, I will tell you what I have seen in Venice that's very odd. 
In the first place, there are two round, granite columns, very high, 
that stand near each other. On the top of one of these is a large 
stone lion, with great big white marble eyes. He is a very fierce- 
looking lion, with his mouth open, and his front paw lifted up ; 
and he has great big wings too, like a large bird. Now, will you 
remember what I tell you about him ? When you are reading in 
the Bible some day, you will learn of four great beasts that St. 
John saw in a dream. One of them was a lion, and had wings. 
They were supposed to represent the four of our Saviour's apostles 
who wrote the Gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. The 
lion was supposed to represent St. Mark. Well, when Venice was a 
flourishing city, many hundred years ago, the people prayed to St. 
Mark, and asked him to be the guardian of their city, and keep off 
all kinds of diseases from them, and preserve them from war. They 
built a very large church, too, and called it after St. Mark. So he 
is the saint of the city, and every one prays to him. I do not think 
this is right, for they can have no one but God to help them. But 
the people who live in Venice believe St. Mark will always protect 
them. So they put a great stone lion on this pillar, where every 
one can see it, and it is called the Lion of St. Mark. You know, 
we have the eagle on all our shields, and on the gold and silver 
money. That is because the eagle is the American emblem, just 
as the winged lion is the emblem of Venice. 

Then, on the next tall pillar by its side is a large crocodile, and 
a man standing on his back, with a spear in his hand. This is St. 
Theodore. These two tall granite pillars stand about twenty feet 
apart, and the space between them has become very noted, as I will 
tell you in the next letter I send you. The only land in Venice is 
a large square, covered with flag-stones, like our street pavements. 
On three sides of this square are all the stores ; there are jewellers, 
and bookstores, and restaurants, and photograph stores, and 
plenty of others. At one end, where there are no stores, there is a 
large and curious old church. This is the Church of SL Mark, and 



no UNCLE ROBERT'S LETTERS. [March, 

is very, very old. It is not like any church you ever saw in America. 
It has three round domes like the cupola on Boston State House, 
only not so high. It has five doors, and the tops of the doors are 
all rounded. The middle door is higher than the others, and over 
it are four horses, made of bronze. These are very curious old 
horses, and were brought from Constantinople. The Venetians had 
a very peculiar way of building their church ; and because it was 
built to worship God and the saints, they thought it would not be 
wrong to steal all the fine things they could get, to put in it. 
Venice was a great seaport, and vessels came in there from all 
parts of the world , from China, and Africa, and Asia, and then 
sailed away again, for another cargo. Now, the Venetians said 
that no vessel could come into their port, unless they brought some 
curious and costly present to the church. So then, the sailors, 
when they were in a foreign country, used to get what they could 
find ; and sometimes they were not very honest, and took whatever 
they could lay their hands on, and even robbed other churches, to 
build the cathedral at Venice. So some brought columns of marble 
from Syria and Armenia ; some carried away from Jerusalem the 
alabaster columns of the Temple ; some brought pictures, made of 
little bits of different-colored stones ; and others brought bronze 
figures, and slabs of colored marble for the floor. One of the fun- 
niest-looking things that I saw, was this. On one of the outside cor- 
ners of the church, are four little men, all holding hands, and made 
of red marble. They represent four kings, who were called the four 
Caesars. These four red men were stolen from a place called Acre, 
and have stood here, on the corner of this great church, for many 
hundred years, joining hands, and holding tight on to the column. 
Here they stand now ; and, like other men, have had their photo- 
graphs taken. But what do you suppose was stolen, besides these 
mosaics, and marbles, and bronzes ? You could never guess. 
Why, they even stole the very bones of the holy apostle St. 
Mark. St. Mark had died about nine hundred years before this 
church was built, and his bones were carefully preserved in Alex- 
andria, in the temple there. One day, two wicked sailors said 
they would steal his bones, and bring them away to Venice. They 
tried very hard to get into the church at night, but it was always 
locked up. So they went, one Sunday morning, when service was 
being said, and hid themselves in the church ; and when the people 
had all gone, they went behind the altar, and opened the tomb, 
and there lay the bones of St. Mark. But when the tomb of the 



i868.] UNCLE ROBERT'S LETTERS. in 

good apostle was opened, there came out a sweet smell of spices 
and incense. This smell filled the whole church ; and the sailors 
were afraid they would be discovered by it. So they went away. 
But after a while they went back, and took the bones out, and put 
them in a bag, and covered them up with pork, so they would not 
smell, and carried them to the ship. Then they set sail in the 
ship, and after many long days, arrived in Venice once more. Oh, 
how the people rejoiced, when it was known what a present they 
had got. How they shouted, and prayed to St. Mark, and sang 
hymns, and danced. Then they carried the bones to the new 
church, and put them in a new tomb, and sealed it up ; and there 
they say they are now. But I don't believe all the people say and 
think here ; and you must not. I can't tell you whether this is 
true or not ; but the Venetians say it is. 

Outside of this church are two large red flagstaffs, and the colors 
of Italy float from them now. Besides, there is a tall square 
tower, with a pointed roof, in which is a large bell. A man lives in 
the tower all the time, and every half-hour he rings the bell. Then, 
too, near by, is a large clock. On it is a statue of the Virgin, and 
another gold lion of St. Mark. The clock is painted blue, and has 
gilt stars on it, to represent the heavens at night ; and it has a gilt 
moon, which rises and sets whenever the real moon does. Two 
black men, made of wood, stand on each side of the great bell, 
above the clock and whenever it is a full hour, they beat with 
hammers on this bell. You would be greatly pleased to see them. 

UNCLE ROBERT. 

This is Bessie's reply to her Uncle's first letter. She is only 
seven, and I rather think her mother must have told her how to 
spell all the words : 

DEAR UNCLE, I got your letter. I like what you said about 
Venice. My doll has broke her arm, and the sawdust came out. 
Papa will mend it. Did you soe the big lion with wings ? Winnie 
put it near the stove, and her eye melted out. I have got a kitten 
with a bell on her neck. She drinks milk ; when are you coming 
home ? I should be afraid of losing all my playthings, if I lived in 
Venice. Could my kitten live in Venice ? Old Billy is lame. 
Papa won't whip him, and he won't go fast. I put my houses in 
the bath-tub, and all the paint came off. Does the paint come off 
in Venice ? My doll is sick. Mamma sends her love, and I send 
a kiss ; it has got the measles. Good-by. BESSIE. 



112 AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. [March, 




THE ORIGIN OF MANY THINGS. The sources of our familiar 
food are various indeed. A small part of the catalogue of vege- 
tables borrowed from foreign regions, runs through half the globe. 
Among breadstuffs, wheat and buckwheat come from Asia, rye 
from Siberia, and rice from Ethiopia. Amongst greens, the 
cucumber comes from Spain, the artichoke from Sicily and Anda- 
lusia, cresses from Crete, lettuce from Coos, onions and parsley 
from Egypt, cauliflower from Cyprus, spinach from Asia Minor, 
asparagus from Asia, shalot from Ascalon, beans from India, 
horseradish from China. America has given us the potato and 
Jerusalem artichoke. Amongst fruits, we owe the filbert, pome- 
granate, walnut, quince, and grape, to Asia, the apricot to Armenia, 
the lemon to Media, the peach to Persia, the orange to India, the 
fig to Mesopotamia, the hazelnut and cherry to the Euxine, the 
chestnut to Lydia, the plum to Syria, almonds to Mauritania, and 
olives to Greece. Amongst plants which are used for various 
purposes, are coffee from Arabia, tea from China, cocoa from 
Mexico, tobacco from the New World, fennel from the Canaries, 
cloves from the Moroccos, the castor-oil plant from India. 
Amongst trees, the horse-chestnut tree comes from India, the 
laurel from Crete, the elder tree from Persia. Amongst flowers, 
the narcissus and carnation come from Italy, the lily from Syria, 
the tulip from Cappadocia, the jessamine from India, the nas- 
turtium from Peru, the dahlia from Mexico. 

A CURIOUS SENTENCE. The following curious sentence, 
" Sator arepo teret opera rotas," is not first-class Latin, but may be 
freely translated, " I cease from my work ; the sower will wear away 
his wheels." It is, in fact, something like a nonsense verse, but 



i868.] AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 113 

has these peculiarities : i. It spells backward and forward all the 
same. 2. Then, the first letter of each word spells the first word. 
3. Then, all the second letters of each word spell the second 
word. 4. Then, all the third ; and so on, through the fourth and 
fifth. 5. Then, commencing with the last letter of each word, 
spells the first word. 6. Then, the next to the last letter of each 
word ; and so on, through. 

How TO PRESERVE ICE. Dr. Schwarz has communicated the 
following simple method of preserving small quantities of ice, 
which he has practiced with success : Put the ice in a deep dish or 
jug, cover it with a plate, and place the vessel on a pillow stuffed 
with feathers, and cover the top with another pillow carefully, by 
this means excluding the external air. Feathers are well-known 
bad conductors of heat ; and, in consequence, the ice is preserved 
from melting. Dr. Schwarz states, that he had thus preserved six 
pounds of ice for eight days. The plan is simple, and within the 
reach of every household. 

GOOD ADVICE. When you make an appointment, you contract 
an obligation, a debt ; therefore, be not a minute late. Why 
should you wantonly squander the time of another, by keeping 
him waiting ? Would you like to be so treated ? 

" Count that day lost, whose low descending sun 
Views from thy hand no noble action done." 

Jacob Bob art, Oxford, Eng., 1700. 

THE $800,000,000 of gold, which the California mines have pro- 
duced in the last eleven years, would weigh 1,327 tons, and occupy 
a space 12 by 15 feet, and 12 feet 4 inches high. 

A JUDGE, in Indiana, threatened to fine a lawyer for contempt 
of court. 

" I have expressed no contempt of court," said the lawyer ; " on 
the contrary, I have carefully concealed my feelings." 

A FAVORITE AIR. One of a party of friends, referring to an 
exquisite musical composition, said, " That song always carries me 
away when I hear it." "Can anybody sing it?" asked a wit in 
the company. 

MANY RUN around after felicity, like an absent-minded man 
hunting for his hat, while it is on his head. 



ii4 MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. [March, 




SPRING has come ; though we 
find it hard to believe, with snow and 
ice all about us, bleak winds howl- 
ing overhead, and Jack Frost nip- 
ping our noses. Nevertheless, it is 
a pleasure to think that winter is 
over ; and, in spite of the cold, we 
find our spirits rising as the sap 
rises in the trees, pleasant hopes 
and plans begin to bud as the leaves 
do, while we wake and watch for 
balmy winds and the first green 
grass, as eagerly as the flowers un- 
derneath the snow. 

One of the plans which have 
sprung up, at the first breath of 
spring, is a desire and purpose to 
show our young readers some of the 
lovely and wonderful miracles which 
take place around them in the sum- 
mer world. Children are continu- 
ally demanding fairy tales, and as 
the old folks dearly love to please 
them, they get rather too many, I'm 
afraid. Giants and elves are very 



entertaining and charming, but it is 
* hardly wise to give too much time 
to their pranks, when, all about us, 
there are things more wonderful 
than giants, and little creatures 
more charming than fairies. 

In the April number of " Merry's 
Museum," we shall try to prove this, 
by giving all who choose a peep into 
" Willy's Wonder-Book." 

" Lulie C." wants to know what 
has become of the photograph which 
she sent Uncle Merry nearly a year 
ago, and is troubled by not receiv- 
ing a reply to her last letter. In 
answer, we can only say, that the 
new editor knows nothing about the 
matter, and fancies that, in the con- 
fusion of the late changes, both pic- 
ture and letter have been mislaid 
or forgotten. We don't know the 
addresses she wishes sent her. 

If " Northern Light " will look in 
the February Chat, she will discover 
the cause of the silence of her 
cousins. 

In place of letters, we give a 
pleasant Reminiscence from one of 
Merry's old friends. 



i868.] 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



A REMINISCENCE. 

A good while ago, maybe, in- 
deed, long ago, I suppose, the read- 
ers of " Merry's Museum " would 
esteem it ; and yet it seems a short, 
short way to travel back, to me, in 
that beautiful time "when I was a 
little girl," I can remember some 
stray numbers of " Parley's Maga- 
zine " about the house. Probably I 
was too young to know anything 
about them; the most I recall, is 
the look of some of their outline- 
drawing pictures, and the impression 
that they had no covers. Doubtless, 
I was, in those days, more engaged 
in expressing gooseberry cordial 
for my dolls, and putting away the 
wild strawberries I gleaned in the 
pasture behind the house into jam 
for them, manufacturing packets 
of garments for paper babies (which, 
alas ! babies, dresses, and a', were, 
some unhappy times, washed in my 
dress-pocket !), than in any literary 
pursuit. I suppose, when school 
was done, I played, as little girls 
ought, and visited, at frequent inter- 
vals, the smallest kittens in the 
world, out in the deacon's kitchen- 
chamber, so beautiful and soft, in 
the basket with their purry mother ! 

But, after these small days, when 
the craving for stories began to de- 
velop, I well remember, one red-let- 
ter day, my father came home from 
the city, with a " Merry's Museum " 
for me and my brother, and told us 
we were to have one henceforth 
every month. 

Dear old " Merry's Museum ! " 

Peter Parley and Robert Merry 
were henceforth heart-friends, one 
and indivisible, in my own mind ; in 
whose proper existence thus blent, 
I had no more doubt, than of the 
good deacon's across the yard, where 
we breakfasted Christmas mornings. 

Those days, and their incidents 
and belongings, are all connected in 
my mind, and harmoniously, al- 
though they may seem vague, and 
possibly fictitious; yet what I am 
recalling, is true to memory. 

Then I had "The Girl's Book," 



and my brother " The Boy's Book ; " 
and we had " The Parent's Assist- 
ant," its beautiful tales bound in 
yellow, with scarlet figures all over 
the covers, and on each, in the 
midst, inscribed "The Parent's As- 
sistant," which sentence I could nev- 
er understand, although I loved 
all the rest of the book so, and 
have studied it wistfully, and then 
wished it were not there ! I be- 
lieve Miss Edgeworth herself re- 
gretted it, as unsuitable. 

We had "Frank," too, in one 
volume, and " Harry and Lucy," in 
two, each with fine steel vignettes. 
We followed these good children in 
many a wise experiment and inven- 
tion; and I can recall some im- 
prisoning, and mountainous snow- 
storms, when Harry and Lucy seem 
to be as real as ourselves. Then 
there was " Sanford and Merton," 
my own ; with my name inscribed 
on the bright yellow fly-leaf. 

But " Evenings at Home," I pri- 
vately detested and despised in my 
own heart ; and did not feel sorry 
when the thick, short book, " com- 
plete in one volume," cracked mid- 
way, and Jehu was sent from the 
fellowship of fable, wisdom, and 
verse ! 

Then, from the Village Library 
came a few prized children's books. 
Mrs. Hewitt's ; Mrs. S. C. Hall's ; 
Miss Sedgewick's ; and wonderful, 
delightful "Swiss Family Robin- 
son ;" always on the wing, and never 
to be kept long enough, any of them. 

One of our schoolmates not too 
old to swing us, and play blind- 
man's-buff and puss-in-the-corner, 
and help us make molasses candy, 
in our respective homes took the 
" Youth's Companion : " the most 
concerning which I remember, is, 
that he kept them in file, in a deep, 
square box, on the top of his books ; 
and that when I held them, I thought 
they smelt very much like his fath- 
er's red and black cattle which W. 
used to drive to and from pasture. 
i Perhaps I was a fastidious little 
miss, for my brother never appeared 
to think of the thing. 



n6 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. [March 



These are about all our reading I 
recall, as we come back to dear old 
Merry again ; for I have not said my 
say concerning that, by any means. 
There was nothing to be compared 
to it in all the others ; for it was new 
and fresh, and constantly recurring. 
It was the "golden mean," the juste 
milieu, meeting all the others 
lacked, and leaving all that was in 
them distasteful. 

Then it was "our magazine f " 
There were not then, two for ev- 
ery week, and a satiety of choice, 
enough to make what was common 
despicable to an indulged race of 
juveniles. 

Indeed, it is all the one I heard 
of then, the best one, and the 
only one, in our world, at any rate ; 
and its continued stories became 
happy families, in progressive exist- 
ence, to us. We adopted them un- 
questioningly, and speculated upon 
their monthly visits to us in propria 
^?rjw^, between whiles, discussing 
their deeds, and rejoicing in the 
world they saw and brought to us. 

Three volumes, bound in calf, and 
fawn mottled paper, and some odd 
numbers unbound, remain to me of 
those bygone times. I have been 
looking at them today, and my judg- 
ment is the same the child's verdict 
was. They are sensible, life-like, 
interesting, good. 

Perhaps the good should have 
come first ; I place it last, because 
it comprises all the others. Stories, 
Travels, Adventures, Fairy Tales, 
Descriptive and Miscellaneous Pa- 
pers, Verses, Music, Correspon- 
denpe, and dear mysterious little 
Puzzles. I see it is wise, beyond 
what our years then knew ; and 
doubtless this was a great part of 
the charm to thoughtful childhood. 

It would surely "indicate that chil- 
dren's masticating powers had dete- 
riorated painfully, to judge from the 
infinitessimal mince their serial-mak- 
ers now provide them ; and its analy- 
sis, I fear, discovers nutrition in 
homosopathic proportion. Or is it, 
that the youth has become dyspep- 
tic in mind from the serial surfeit, 



and that kindness requires the fash- 
ionable diffusion to have been di- 
luted ? 

Strong old Merry's motto was 
" Educate up." He never stopped 
and stooped to explain a thing to 
death. In each of these volumes 
there is a score of papers, sensible, 
well constructed, thougthtful enough 
for an adult to thoroughly enjoy. 
And every time the child read them, 
his liking grew ; for the fruit was 
ripening for him on the trees of 
knowledge old Merry had planted ; 
and well wise Robert knew the prin- 
ciple of such growth, and goodly 
was the choice he made in his pleas- 
ant, profitable nursery. 

Years have gone by since I held 
a number of "Merry's Museum " in 
my hand. I do not even know if it 
has been sustained through them. 
My impression is, it has not, in un- 
broken issue. But yesterday, tak- 
ing up " The Journal," I saw the 
announcement of " Merry's Mu- 
seum " for February, new series, 
vol. i., No. 2," and it struck me 
very pleasantly ; and, as I laid down 
the paper, it seemed but turning my 
head gently, to gain a happy retro- 
spect of my childhood, and all that 
" Merry's Museum " was to it and 
us. 

I cannot but trust it still is to 
other children, companion, play- 
mate, story-teller, judicious friend ; 
educating while delighting them, 
as is Nature's world with wisdom 
developing their faculties by the law 
of growth. 

Kind Peter Parley sleeps. 

I was grave when he died, for I 
knew we had not looked upon his 
like. It is due to him, and to my 
own desire, to pay this tribute 
true, and yet not full to the old 
Museum ; and to bid the present 
new God-speed among the children 
and youth. 

May it be to you what the old 
one was to three children once, who 
have lived to appreciate it. 

Most kindly yours, 

MAY HAWK. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



117 






answers correctly twenty-two out 
of the thirty puzzles in the January 
number, and wins the prize (her 
second) for that month. 



My ri, 14, 5, 8 is a lake. 

M Y i J 3> 15 is much worn by 

ladies. 

My 1 6, 4 is a preposition. 
My whole is the name of one of 

Mr. Merry's chatterers. 

NAMES OF FLOWERS ENIGMATI- 
CALLY EXPRESSED. 



QUESTIONS, ENIGMAS, CHARADES, 
ETC. 

60. I am composed of 17 letters : 
My i, 16, 14 we all do. 

My 3, 5, 15, 10 is a coin. 

My 9, 1 6, 6 is an edge. 

My 7, 8, 12, 17, 2, 4, 10 is to try 

again. 

My 6, 13, ii comes in the spring. 
My whole is the motto of one of 

the United States. Ada S. 

61. I am composed of 17 letters : 
My 6, 10, 9, 17, 3 is a girl's 

name. 
My 12, 2, 7 is a vehicle. 



62. 

63- 
64. 
65. 
66. 

67. 
68. 



69. 



70. 



A vain, silly fellow a fop su- 
perfine. 

A brilliant perennial, a very dull 
wine. 

A musical tube, what bees do 
all day. 

A fidgety thing, call it " hands 
off," you may. S. F. 

Curtail a tree, transpose, and 
leave another. 

G. T. McKinney. 

Change a letter in the name of 
a bird, and make a. plant. Cis. 

A waterfowl, an excrescence on 
the oak, a musical insect, and 
an edible plant : the four ini- 
tials form the name of a mon- 
key. Forrest. 

Niwe si a cormek, gnorst krind, 
si gingar. Showeover si vice- 
dede byheret si ton swie. 

Eddie E. Perkins. 

I am a word of seven letters, 
containing i, apart of speech ; 
2, a woman's name ; 3, a man's 
nickname ; 4, went fast ; 5, a 
kind of feed ; 6, an organ ; 7, 



AUNT SUE S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[March, 



fearless ; 8, to rr^e ; 9, pel- 
son ; 10, two animals; 11, a 
vegetable ; 12, a building ; 13, 
at no time ; 14, part of a 
church ; 1 5, not far from. 
S. 



WORDS ENIGMATICALLY EX- 
PRESSED. 

71. Sentence a people. Comet. 

72. Peter, draw near. A. R. T. 

73. One of the nine. Rena. 

74. Briny boy. Auntie. 

GEOGRAPHICAL. 

75. Paint trouble. 

76. Excellent expectation. 

Hal Bowles. 

77. A title and two pronouns. 

Hickory. 

ANAGRAMS. 

78. Sure leaps. Fred. 

79. Trim a tin saint in air. Sigma. 

80. Trip Eva ! Double you see. 

81. Hide police. Tommy. 

Fill the following blanks with the 
same words transposed : 

82. you should free of ; it 

was to steal the 

Alice Tipton. 

83. Joe, run to the -- , and bring 

me a quart of - . B. B. 

Minx. 
Correct the following sentences : 

85. I sent to Paris for a dozen pair 

of gloves. 

86. A variety of amusements are 

delightful. 

87. I saw all kind of animals at the 

show. 



Answers vtnst reach i;:c be- 
fore the Wi of April. Those, 
received later will not be cred- 
ited. 

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN JANU- 
ARY NUMBER. 

1. Camel. 

2. Gymnosophist, Syncategore- 

matic. 

3. Commencement. 

4. Violet. 

5. Tendril. 

6. Siren, serin. 

7. Cheat, atche. 

8. Rock, cork. 

9. Alcove, a clove. 

10. Winifred. 

11. Crave, fight, mend, ply, work. 

12. Gig, I, gig. 

13. Uncle William. 

14. Read this and study it, 

And solve it as you may. 
If you get the puzzle prize, 
Then you will have your pay. 

15. Alphabet: I, halt; 2, hat; 3, 

hate ; 4, heap ; 5, heat ; 6, 
heal ; 7, bat ; 8, lap ; 9, pate ; 
10, peal ; n, tap ; 12, pet ; 13, 
Pat ; 14, beat; 15, tea. 

1 6. Capering (cape, ring). 

17. Matrimony. 

1 8. Playmate. 

19. Lonesome. 

20. Bream, bear. 

21. Sword, word. 

22. Fear led, federal. 

23. Inelegant, eglantine. 

24. Sent, tens, nets, nest. 

25. His rap, parish. 

26. Prior. 

27. Young. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



IJ 9 



28. You mistake. 

29. " He <afo/read but one book," or 

" he read but one book." 

30. Who s hames ace crib bier B 

rake one cobweb through, He 
s pins the s lights elf pleas in 
G thread an ewe. D s Troy 
his fib or sophistry in vane, 
the Crete ewer sat his dirty- 
work egg N. 

" Who shames a scribbler ? Break 

one cobweb through, 
He spins the slight, self-pleasing 

thread anew, 
Destroy his fib or sophistry in 

vain, 
The creature's at his dirty work 

again." Pope. 

Of the above puzzles, 

Florian answers all but 2, n, 12, 

1 6, 22, 23, 25, 30. 

Belle answers all but 2, 5, 6, u, 12, 

1 6, 20, 22, 23, 30. 

F. R. S. answers all but 2, 6, 12, 
15, 16, 22, 23, 25, 27, 30. 

Max answers all but 2, 5, 6, n, 12, 

15, 20, 22, 23,25, 30. 

C. W. J. answers all but 2, 3, 4, 5, 

6, 11, 12, 15,16,23,25, 30. 

Wolverine answers I, 10, 13, 14, 

16, 17, 18. 

Minnie answers I, 10, 14, 17, 18. 

D. S. W. answers 14, 29. 

NOTICES TO' CORRESPONDENTS. 

Lorain Lincoln. Your contribu- 
tion was multum in parvo. 

D. S. W. Our prizes are given to 
those who answer the greatest num- 
ber of puzzles each month. 

Florian. Is your present address 
the same as in 1 863 ? 

Thanks for enigmas, etc., to L. 

E. E., Lorain Lincoln, F. R. S., and 
Max. 



BOOK NOTICE. 

Morning Glories, and Other Sto- 
ries. By L. M. ALCOTT. Price, 
$1.25. Boston : H. B. Fuller, 
Publisher. 

Miss Alcott's little book, with its 
vine-wreathed cover and frontis- 
piece, is a delightful mixture of fact 
and fancy. Many of the stories 
which it contains are new and sug- 
gestive. In "Shadow Children," 
for instance, children follow their 
shadows for a day, doing all the 
work which they see them do. The 
shadows lead their pupils into the 
garden, to pick peas, into the 
kitchen, to help a tired mother in 
her household cares, and to keep a 
fretful baby quiet ; when the chil- 
dren are at play, the shadows keep 
them from going into dangerous 
places, and lead them safely home 
at night. " I shall be very careful 
where I lead my shadow," says the 
youngest of the three children, as 
he lies in bed ; " 'cause he's a good 
little one, and set me a righter 
'zample, than ever I did him." 

There are pretty stories of sea- 
shore life in the book ; and, drollest 
of all, an account of a visit to 
a " Strange Island," where dwell 
many famous people, many of 
whom are passed over in silence by 
the author of the " Dictionary of 
Fiction," but who are quite as well 
known, as any who are mentioned 
in that book. "Why, it's all 
' Mother Goose,' from beginning to 
end ! " said a little girl, to whom we 
read it, opening her eyes very wide. 
And so it is, for the island is inhab- 
ited by all the heroes and heroines 
of the works of that wonderful old 
woman. 



T2o AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. [March. 

THE CLOVER LABYRINTH. Designed by AUNT SUE. 




The puzzle is, to get from the entrance (B) to the centre (A), without 
crossing any of the lines. 




VOL. I.] 



APRIL, 1868. 



[NO. 4. 



THE DOLLS' MASQUERADE. 

OUR o'clock, on a July afternoon ! The 
old-fashioned clock on the landing, half- 
way up the broad stairs, struck, and 
one of the little girls at the nursery 
window said, 

" Oh ! only four o'clock ! I wish it 
were teatime ! " 

"What's the matter, Trot?" said 
one of the two, who were exchanging 
whispered confidences at the table. 
"What is it? Tired?" 

" I want something to do," answered 
Miss Trot, somewhat sulkily. 

" Why don't you read ? " replied the 
other. " Look at Flossy ; she hasn't 
taken her eyes off her Hook since 
dinner." 

" Oh ! I've read all my books," yawned the little girl. Then, 
in a more cheerful tone, she said, " O Gret ! Do you know, that 
Flossy's birthday will be three weeks from next Wednesday ? " 
" No ! Will it ? How old, Flossy ? " 

" What ? " said the little child in question, just raising her eyes 
from her story-book. " What did you say ? " 




'Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by H. B. FULLEB, in the Clerk's 
Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



122 THE DOLLS' MASQUERADE. [.April, 

" How old shall you be, next birthday ? " 

"Ten. Why?" 

" Oh, nothing. What are you going to do ? " 

" I don't know, exactly ; I'm tired of parties." 

" So am I," said Trot, very decidedly ; " they're all alike. And 
whatever you do, Flossy, don't ask any boys." 

" Why not ? " laughed Gret 

" Oh, because they're such bothers, always teasing, and playing 
' Post-office,' and ' Pillow.' And when I went to Katie's, last time, 
that great rude Bert pushed me down." 

" I can't have a girl's party very well," said Flossy. " And, 
besides, most girls like to play with boys." 

" I'll tell you something nice," said Gret. " Do you know what 
a masquerade is ? " 

"I do," said Flossy. 

" And I," said Bessie, who had not spoken since the conversa- 
tion began. 

" But I don't," said Trot, piteously. 

" Well," answered Gret, drawing a long breath, " a masquerade 
is a party, where everybody ' dresses up ' and wears a mask. Em- 
ily went to one, last winter, as somebody out of a book. I believe 

it was the 'White Lady of something or other. At any rate, 

she was all in white, veil and all, and had her hair down. And 
I went " 

" Oh ! I know who it was ! " interrupted Flossy ; " the ' White 
Lady of Avenel.' Papa let me read the book last winter. Wasn't 
there a ' Halbert ' with her?" 

" Jamie was a Highlander," said Gret ; " but I don't know what 
his name was. I was going to say, that I went to Nell Craigie's, 
she's my very particular friend, you know, to see her sister 
dressed for it. She was a peasant." 

" What ! like the one in your hat ? " exclaimed Trot. " How 
funny she must have looked." 

" No, dear, that's a pheasant, I said a peasant ; one of the 
pretty little girls who come in on the stage, with their bright skirts 
and black bodices. I believe people dress so in France ; don't 
they, Flossy ? " 

" I don't think they do every day, at least," answered Flossy. 
" They have to work, and would spoil their clothes very soon." 

" Never mind," said Gret. " What I was going to say, is, that we 
might have great fun dressing your dolls for the birthday. To be 



i868.] THE DOLLS' MASQUERADE. 123 

sure, I'm too old to play with dolls myself;" and the little maid of 
thirteen drew herself up with great dignity. " But I like to dress 
them. How many have you ? " 

" I have four," said Bessie. 

" And I, six " " and I, eight," cried Flossy and Trot, in a 
breath. 

" Whew ! Eighteen in one house," said Gret. " Oh, and mam- 
ma's coming, you know ; and I'll write to her for Fergus." 

Who's he ? " said the others. 

" My old Edinburgh doll. Uncle James brought him home, 

years ago. His name is " she took up a pencil, and wrote 

" Fergus Mac Ivor Vich Ian Vohr," saying, " I can't pronounce it, 
and I don't believe you can. He's in full Highland dress, and 
used to be very handsome." 

" I think it will be very nice," said Bessie ; P for we know ever 
so many girls who have six or eight dolls apiece. We needn't in- 
vite more than half a dozen, and then nobody will feel slighted ; 
because, it isn't a party, you know." 

" But Trot and I can't make the dresses," said Flossy, doubt- 
fully. 

" You can ; or, if you can't, you ought," answered Gret ; " and 
I'll make Trot's." 

Just then, Bessie said, " There's mamma coming," and rushed 
downstairs to meet her, and to tell her of Gret's plan. Before 
long, " mamma " was comfortably established in her sewing-chair, 
listening to the plans of the four girls. 

" You may have your masquerade on one condition, Flossy," 
she said, at length. 

"What is that? " said all the children. 

"That every* one makes her own dresses. You may consult me 
as much as you like ; but you must not ask me to sew for you." 

Bessie, who was a wonderful little needle-woman, said, "I 
shall like that, mamma j" but Flossy, who, as she said, "hated 
sewing," looked somewhat disconsolate, until her mamma said, 
" You don't know what you can do, till you try, little girl." Then 
she brightened a little, and grew quite cheery when Bessie said, 
" You know ever so much more about book-people than I do, 
Flossy, and you can pick out nice characters for your dolls. I'm 
afraid, though, all mine will be peasants or nuns." 

" You have time enough for sewing," said her mother, " now 
vacation is so near. Are many of the girls going away ? " 



124 THE DOLLS' MASQUERADE. [April, 

" Yes, a good many." 

" Who are to be at home on the birthday ? " 

" Let me see Katie, and Molly, and Sue, certainly ; and per- 
haps Mabel and Lina." 

" They, with their thousand dolls, more or less, will be enough, 
I think," said her mother. t 

"Yes, indeed," answered the children. "Let's ask them 
now." 

" If you like," said their mother. " But be sure to explain about 
the masks ; and say that no one is to let the others know what her 
dolls are going to wear." 

The children put on their hats, and went down the lane which 
led toward the village, chattering all the way about peasants, 
monks, and fairies, until Gret told them to keep their ideas, if 
they had any, to themselves. 

Gret, although not many months older than Bessie, felt quite 
aged ; for her home was in New York, while her cousins lived in a 
pretty village near Boston, and did not very often go away from it. 
She had seen so many wonderful sights, and had been at so many 
places, that she seemed to the little girls, a young lady of vast ex- 
perience. She had come to the old house early in June, and had 
been a very pleasant companion for her cousins ; for she could 
sew and embroider as neatly as Bessie, had story-books in her trunk 
for Flossy, and made a pet and plaything of Trot, when she was 
not teaching or learning wonderful new " Afghan " and crochet 
stitches, or singing, or playing duets. 

The four girls were very happy for the next three weeks. Trot 
no longer complained that she had nothing to do ; for all her 
spare moments were spent in Gret's room, dressing dolls. Bessie 
was always busy about her usual work ; and how she found time to 
design her costumes is a mystery, unless she did it in her sleep. 
Flossy succeeded quite wonderfully, her mother said ; and frequent 
whisperings with her " big brother " Fred, helped her in her search 
for " book-people," whom her dolls could personate. " Mamma's " 
old bandboxes were overturned, and many were the treasures which 
were found in them. Fred laughed, at first, at the whole affair ; 
before long, however, he told Flossy that he had some ideas of his 
own for the masquerade, but that she was not to say that he would 
do anything, since he wished to surprise the other children. 

" Theodora ! " said he, one day. 

" What ? " answered Trot, looking up from gilt paper which she 



i868.] THE DOLLS' MASQUERADE. 125 

" What are you making, my dear ? " 

" Oh, something for the dolls' party." 

" Indeed ! Is one of the dolls to appear in a gold suit ? or why 
do you dazzle my eyes with so much brilliant paper ? " 

"'Shan't tell you," said Trot, decisively. 

" Oh, I have it ! Mademoiselle Rosalinda, is to appear as the 
' Fair One with Golden Locks ; ' and this, I suppose, is the hair. 
Isn't it somewhat coarse, though," he continued, taking up a long 
strip of paper. 

" Shan't tell you," repeated Trot. 

" Margaret Elizabeth Florence ! Do you see the fine moral 
effect of your masquerade? It has impressed the necessity of 
secrecy upon the infant mind of Theodora ! I suppose that she'd 
rather be drawn at the heels of eight, sixteen, two-and-thirty 
wild horses, as somebody in Dickens says, than tell what she is 
going to do with those bits of paper." 

" Frederic ! " said Gret, " you know you wish you were a girl, 
that you might dress a doll for the party." 

" My dear Peggy," answered Fred, solemnly, " it is much better 
to be a boy, and have a kind cousin to dress such relics as these," 
holding in one hand a battered rag " Dinah," whose wool, 
made of ravelled yarn, had been torn off by rough hands, and 
whose few remaining locks were in a very dishevelled condition, 
and in the other, a large tailless and earless lamb. 

" Where did you get those things, Fred ? " cried Gret and Trot, 
in a breath. 

" Out of my cabinet, of course. Haven't I kept them, with ten- 
der care, ever since they used to sleep with me every night ? Shan't 
they go to the .masquerade ? Behold ! " and, striking a theatrical 
attitude, he placed the doll upon the lamb, and held her up to the 
admiring gaze of his sisters and cousin, saying, " She's going as 
' Little Bo-Peep,' don't you see ? There's no need of amputating 
poor Nanny's tail, either ; for it's already left behind her. By the 
way, Peg, your uncle's going to New York tonight, and if you 
want any finery for your ball, now is your time. You have twenty- 
five minutes to write, and he has only a valise ; so that you can't 
be very extravagant in letter or trunks." 
Gret flew to her own room, and wrote : 

" DEAR PAPA, Flossy is going to have a dolls' masquerade 
next week, and I want some things for it. Please, go to my closet, 



126 THE DOLLS' MASQUERADE. [April, 



if mamma left the key, and take the green bandbox on the second 
shelf; also, the long box, in the third drawer of my bureau. Don't 
make a mistake about it, and send my furs, or something absurd. 
I am well, and growing fat, and hope you are. Haven't time for 
' dutiful regards,' or anything of that kind. Therefore, 

" I am your GRET." 

" P. S. Don't forget that the bandbox is " 

" Time's up," shouted Fred, on the landing. 

Gret sealed her letter, gave it to her uncle, and awaited the re- 
sults, which appeared, at the end of the week, in the shape of a 
large box, containing the Scotch doll, and a Parisian lady, with a 

wonderful wardrobe. So far, so good ; but " Where's the other 

box, Uncle Robert ? " said Gret. 

" Oh, I left it in the wagon." 

" Here 'tis," said Fred, running in with a large blue bandbox. 

" Oh, how could he ? " cried Gret, opening the box, and display- 
ing her last winter's hat. , 

" Too bad ! " exclaimed Bessie ! " What made him ? " 

" I don't know ; I'm sure I wrote green. Did you see him take 
it, Uncle Robert?" 

" No j I didn't go to the house. Your father takes his meals 
out, and gets on as he can, now your mother and Emily are away. 
I'm sorry about it, I'm sure. I suppose it's hardly worth sending 
for by express ? " 

" No ; it's only a box of silks and ribbons. I suppose that I can 
get on without it ; but Eugenie won't be as fine as I should have 
made her." 

" Never mind, Gret," said Flossy ; " mamma will give you some- 
thing, I know. And you can have anything of mine." 

Gret went to her aunt, and, finding that she had finery enough to 
make up for all that was lying in her closet at home, begged of 
her what she needed, and worked early and late. 

At last, the birthday came, and was welcomed, as a birthday 
always should be. It was bright and cool, after a heavy shower in 
the night ; and the garden was never so charming, the little girls 
thought, as they went to gather flowers for their playroom, of 
which Fred had taken possession, early in the morning, telling 
the girls that, if they knew what was good for them, they would stay 
in another part of the house, until he requested them to return. The 
great baskets of flowers which they brought from the garden were 



1 868.] THE DOLLS' MASQUERADE. 127 

placed at the locked door, and taken in by Fred, who had a quick 
eye for effects of color, and a skilful hand for arranging wreaths 
and bouquets. 

At three o'clock, the girls, in their pretty muslins, knocked at 
the door. Fred opened it, with a low bow, saying, " Enter, ladies ; 
the ballroom is ready." 

They went in, uttering exclamations of surprise and delight ; 
for Fred had made out of the large, bare room, a real bower. 

" It's like Fairyland," cried Flossy. 

" Like the ballroom where Cinderella danced," shouted Trot. 

" Like the Arabian Nights," said Gret and Bessie, together. 

The windows were darkened, so that not a ray of daylight came 
in. The walls were draped with dark cloth, e*xcept at one end, 
where, on the white wall, the word " Welcome," in letters made of 
bright flowers and trailing vines, greeted those who entered. 
Around the dark walls were hung Chinese lanterns, whose gay 
colors and fantastic forms had reminded Gret and Bessie of the 
Arabian Nights ; and, around and among them, were more bright 
flowers, grouped together with careful regard to contrasts of color. 
From the middle of the ceiling hung a basket, filled with mosses, 
ferns, and ivy ; and at each side hung smaller baskets, from whose 
sides drooped delicate maidenhair and the tiny leaves and blos- 
soms of the partridge-berry vine. At the end opposite the " Wel- 
come," were placed chairs for the "live" guests, overhung by 
eleven lanterns, in honor of Flossy's age. Around the sides of the 
room were placed low seats for the dolls ; and, in one corner, stood 
Fred's violin-case. 

The girls rushed at Fred, and hugged him until he declared, 
that, if they didn't stop, he would not come riear them all the 
afternoon. 

" Boys aren't so bad, after all ; " said Trot, " I wish we had 
asked some." 

" Nonsense ! " replied Bessie. " They would'nt come to such a 
party. But there's a ring at the front-door bell. We must go 
for our dolls." 

In half an hour, all the guests had come ; and the masquerade was 
ready to begin. All the dolls had been left in a large closet, under 
the charge of Gret, who was to act as mistress of ceremonies. At 
last, when Fred had " opened the ball," by an air on his violin, and 
when his father and mother had been seated under the lanterns, 
Gret appeared at the door, and gravely announced 



128 THE DOLLS' MASQUERADE. [April, 

" Her Majesty, Queen Marie Antoinette ! " 

The royal lady, in full court-dress, with hoop, powder, and 
feathers, carrying in one hand a large fan, was made to enter the 
room, and to take her seat, while Gret, who assisted her, said, " All 
the guests will be presented to Her Majesty. I announce 

'"The 'White Lady of Avenel,' and 'Halbert Glendinning ! '" 

A doll, all in white, veiled so that her figure was not visible, arm- 
in-arm with the Highlander, approached the throne (?), and bent as 
low as their jointed bodies would permit. Gret seated them, and 
brought in Little Mabel, with her " gown of blue," 

" Her little kerchief on her head, 
^ And her tidy little shoe ; " 

supported, on one side, by an Indian Chief, and on the other, by 
a dashing Zouave j all of whom kissed the queen's hand, or rather 
touched it with their masks. After they had been placed, silent 
and stiff, on the low seats, the brightest "Little Sunbeam," all in 
white and gold danced in, and stood before the queen ; while 
Gret said, in a very small voice, supposed to proceed from under 
the doll's gilt mask, " Please, your majesty, there's no need of 
me here ; it's so light, that a poor little ray such as I am can do 
nothing." 

" Stay with me, Little Sunbeam," answered the queen. " I need 
you ; for I see dark times coming, and I want something bright by 
my side." 

And the Sunbeam was made to glide into the seat next the queen, 
and sat there during the whole afternoon, greatly to the delight of 
little Trot, who had worked for days on the costume of her favorite 
doll, fearing that she would not look as well as the others, and who 
could hardly believe her own eyes when she saw her seated in state 
by the queen, who was Gret's beautiful Eugenie. 

One after another, came in, peasants of every nation, a pretty 
Norman girl, with her high cap ; a German, with two long flaxen 
braids ; and a Roman woman, in holiday-dress. 

" Aunt Jessie told me how to dress my doll," said Molly to Flossy. 
" She used to see the girls come in from the country on holidays, 
when she was in Rome." 

" Oh, how nice," answered Flossy ; " papa told me about them 
once. But, who's that coming in ? " 

" Little Red Riding Hood, and her Grandmother. Don't you see 
the wolf behind them ? What is he made of? " 



i868.] THE DOLLS' MASQUERADE. 129 

He didn't look very ferocious, to be sure, for he was only cotton- 
flannel ; but he was a very respectable and well-behaved wolf for 
a masquerade. 

Then there were " Cinderella," and the " Prince," and the "Fairy 
Godmother," side by side with " Beauty and the Beast ; " and many 
another from the dear old books, that are always young. And a 
" Daughter of the Regiment " came in, with a military salute, and 
offered her canteen to a " Sister of Charity," who turned away, in a 
fit of mild indignation, and went to the peasant-girls, who bowed 
before her. "And fairies sat by witches, never caring whether the 
old creatures with broomsticks could do them harm. " Prince 
Bulbo " and the " Fairy Blackstick " seemed to be talking together, 
while Giglio and Rosalba were looking at little Nell and her grand- 
father, who walked in wearily, and were placed in a corner. 

At last, when all the dolls had been brought from their hiding- 
places, Fred whispered something to Gret, who went away, and 
presently came back with an immense elephant, who walked around 
the room, and caused the frightened dolls to scream violently. That 
is, screams were heard ; and, as the dolls' mouths were under their 
masks, it is but fair to suppose that the sounds issued from them. 

" Now," said Flossy, " you must all go around, and look at the 
dolls. Mamma, I want you to see how nicely the dresses are 
made." 

They were, indeed, made with great skill, considering the youth 
and inexperience of the costumers, who had shown great ingenuity 
in making bits of silk and lace and ribbon produce very fine effects. 
Of course, no masquerade is ever complete without an " Evening 
News ; " and Katie j Flossy's " intimate friend " at school had 
dressed her wax doll very neatly in newspaper, with a fan and head- 
dress of the same material. Mabel had brought a " Butterfly" and 
a " Spanish Lady," both of whom had been arrayed by her own little 
fingers ; and very pretty they were. " Night " -and " Morning," of 
course, were there ; and the " Evening Star " was seen in one cor- 
ner, seated next " Croquet," who seemed to ask her to join her on 
the grass, before it grew too late. 

" Now, mamma," said Bessie, " don't you think we've done 
well ? " 

" Yes, indeed," said her mother. " And it has kept you all busy 
too, I know." 

" Why," chimed in Lina, " my mamma says that I haven't sewed 
so much in a year, as I have this week." 



130 THE LOGGERS; OR, [April, 

" I'm sure I've done more, this week, than I have in six months," 
said Flossy ; " I don't know but I might say a year, too." 

" I think you might," added her mother, smiling. " Now, if 
Fred will play for you, perhaps you will like to dance. It will be 
hard work to move the dolls, and I would let them look on." 

Fred played waltzes and polkas, and the little girls danced until 
they were quite tired ; when tea was announced, and they went 
downstairs, leaving the poor dolls to their own thoughts, if they 
had any. 

After tea, the girls unmasked their dolls, handed them around for 
each other's inspection, and went home very happy. 

Flossy's masquerade had kept nine little girls busy for three 
weeks of vacation, the weeks which sometimes drag so wearily, 
when children are at home. It had taught some of them to sew 
neatly, and had given others many pleasant hours among books. 
It had, therefore, been the cause of much good to nine little heads 
and eighteen little hands. K. E. 




THE LOGGERS; OR, SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS 
OF MAINE. 

ST. CROIX, OR SCHOODIC RIVER. 
(Continued from the March Number?) 

EBRUARY i*ith. Again he has gone, and taken the 
giant moose, which he will have stuffed for a trophy, it 
may be possible, for me, and our menagerie ; for this 
good uncle is capable of all generous things. 
Would you believe it, he has left me Pete, " to sh6\v me some- 
thing about deer-hunting. " Bless his splendid soul, for giving me 
such a joy ! 

A live Indian a hunter to show me all the wonders of for- 
est life ! 

Look in " Arabian Nights," or any book of wonders, and see if 
you can find anything that reads like that ? 

Better than the key to the enchanted palace, this red man is to 
me. Better than all living uncles, is this one with the large, large 
heart. I could almost bow down and worship him, for bringing 
me out of the " slough of despond " where you last saw me. 



l868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 13 1 

I often think how you would enjoy this forest life, with your fine 
constitution; how you would rejoice in nature and fine deer- 
hunting. 

The air is almost always sharp and cold, but exhilarating. I 
eat my coarse, early breakfast with a relish, and go regularly to 
work now, without fear or feeling of indigestion. 

I can swing the long-helved axe quite handsomely, although not 
yet an accomplished chopper. 

Sometimes I mark the logs, by cutting through the sappy part ; 
sometimes trim the branches ; and a few times I have helped lay 
the monarchs low. All I do is done with a will ! I love it, as I 
did our first feats in the gymnasium, and find myself a great ad- 
mirer of nature. 

Last night, it smoked badly in camp, and Pete and I went out 
into the clearing, sat down on a log, with our backs against the 
cattle-camp, and told stories ! Some of his droll accounts of 
Indian life I shall repeat when I see you. 

This clearing of ours is about an acre, in a circular form, sur- 
rounded by lofty pines and hemlocks, black and white spruces, 
arbor vitae, firs, black and funereal, others brilliantly greeny 
all glittering with frost in the rays of moonlight, as though the 
Good Father delighted to add this crowning, crystal beauty to the 
works of His lavish hand. 

I never was accused of being religious, Frank ; but, within this 
grand amphitheatre, whose walls seem as impervious, and far 
more beautiful than sculptured Grecian temple ; with the bright 
stars and moon sailing over us, I thought of Him who had given 
me such keen enjoyment with moistened eyes. For, surely, sucti 
desires are not given us for a day ; but the beauty we enjoy here 
is but a foretaste of the greater glory that we may enjoy in eternity. 

i8//z. Perhaps I was dreaming before I went into camp last 
night ; for I remember Pete gave me a great shake, saying, " No 
sleep ; then no get 'em deer. Go, sleep so many," counting five 
on his fingers, " then maybe start early, find 'em ; one, two, 
good many deers s'pose maybe!" Quick as thought, I 
hurried in, throwing myself under my quilt, Pete smiling grimly 
saying, " Guess 'em much hurry when me speak 'em deer. S'pose 
nebber catch much that kind, he ! he ! " Pete and I were soon 
asleep. 

2oth. Another snow has fallen, followed by just such a sprink- 
ling of rain, as to give the desired crust. Away we go, hurrah ! 



132 THE LOGGERS j OR, [April, 

V 

hurrah ! Pete and I> and as many more as can find snow-shoes. 
Over the crust, over the snow, faster than ever you thought you 
could go. Really, Frank, this is like the fabled travelling with 
" seven-leagued boots." It is really astonishing what strides you 
can take, and how rapidly you can get over the ground. 

We were not long in reaching a " deer-beat." Some six or 
eight timid, beautiful creatures rushed from us, terrified and 
trembling ; but sure to be taken at last. 

Pete made us lay aside our guns, saying, " Much hebbe no 
use catch 'em this way ! " closing his arms together, and look- 
ing complacently at the large knife hanging at his belt. 

Poor things! scattering here and there, struggling in the 
crust, legs bleeding, and soft, brown eyes looking up, so pit- 
eously, when fairly tired out, I could not kill one ! I would not 
cut their beautiful throats like a butcher. 

Five were slain within a short distance. (Enough, surely, for all 
domestic purposes.) There I stood, holding the sixth, trying to 
get my courage up to sticking point ! What could I do ? Pete 
was laughing, and, I am afraid, some of our men. 

"Much great hunter, him ! S'pose no sleep one, two night 
talk 'em so much 'bout 'em deer. How scared ! see 'em blood- 
run ! He ! he ! Stick 'em, boy no be coward." 

" Boy ! coward ! " wasn't my blood up ? But a bright thought 
flashed through my mind. 

"I will keep this, Pete," I said, "to take to Boston show 
folks no good in dead ones," contemptuously kicking the 
warm body of one lying at my feet. " Take this to Massachu- 
setts show 'em 'bout Maine game ! " 

Wasn't this a grand coup d'etat ? Did ever strategy equal it ? 
Pete at once saw I was no "coward," and jumped about to make 
a halter for my deer, of a pliable twig. 

We will own this beautiful pet together, you and I, Frank ; for 
I am determined to bring him home, if it takes my half-yearly 
allowance. (Between you and me, I could not have killed him, look- 
ing up at me so piteously, even if they had thought me a coward ;) 
but a happy thought has removed all suspicion of that. 

Each man dragged along his trophy, as fast as the weight 
allowed. Pete and I led ours ; and when we came in sight of 
camp, we were met by pleased faces, and vociferous cheering. 
Cook was in great glee, handling the venison with all the interest 
and minuteness of an epicure. " Let's see," he said, throwing his 



i868.] 



SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 



133 




head on one side, and squinting an eye, as though deep in mental 
calculation; "let's see, five or six hundred weight, sure, that's 
it," bringing his hand down with a heavy slap upon his person-; 
" that's the figure ! Fresh meat enough, and to spare, as long as 
we stay here." 

Leaving Cook dissecting the game, Pete and I went to work 
making a coop for the pet deer, by the side of the cattle-hovel. 
Before we had finished to our satisfaction, and initiated the timid 
darling into the mysteries of civilization, we smelt the savory 
odors of our dinner ; and, I assure you, I enjoyed it exceedingly. 
Tell it not among the intellectual ; but I tell you, Frank, I rushed 
toward it with more eagerness than I ever dyi toward any lecture- 
room ! 

As I entered the camp, Cook was sifting into the huge boiler 
his last spoonful of black pepper. To my laughing remark, that 
" I longed for the glory inside," he said, complacently, " There's 



134 THE LOGGERS; OR, [April, 

all the difference in the .world betwixt moose an' deer ; as much as 
'twixt goose an' chicken." After the peeled potatoes and onions 
were well cooked, the savory mess was served up. 

" Irish Jim," who had thirsted so, on that stormy day, for 
"Jamaky," could not stand the pressure, and took himseli" off 
home about that time. His place has been supplied by a queer 
genius, a fellow that sings psalm-tunes, and never goes to sleep 
without reading a chapter in the Bible, aloud, if the boys will, 
let him. 

Without the ceremony of shaving, he was called " Parson," the 
first day he came among us ; his tall, dignified presence, and iron- 
gray hair suggesting the title. No man is earlier at his work 
or more diligent than he. He writes sometimes, of evenings, and 
the men say, " is making sermons ; " talks but little, but always 
cheerfully, excepting when they indulge in coarse jokes or pro- 
fanity ; then he speaks out. " Boys, boys ! that don't pay ; 
there's no sense in speaking lightly of One we've got to cling to, 
sooner or later." Sometimes words of advice follow, so kindly 
spoken, that I notice the good effect for many days. 

After all our laughing, Frank, there is something grand in a 
truly religious man, one pure in life and speech, free from all 
cant and pretence. I often feel my whole nature uplifted by this 
simple, earnest backwoodsman. 

Last night, he impressed me strangely, and created quite an epi- 
sode in my rather coarse life. I went out, as usual, about nine, 
to take a look (or rather a hearing) of my pet deer. It was very 
windy, and our lantern unfortunately had lost some of its glass. 
So I crept along cautiously in the darkness, occasionally looking 
at the clouds sailing above our amphitheatre. I heard a clear, 
distinct voice, repeating the words of the Psalmist, " Great is the 
Lord, and of great power ! His understanding is infinite. He 
covereth the heavens with clouds, and prepareth rain for the earth. 
He giveth to the beasts their food, and the young ravens when 
they cry. The Lord takes pleasure in those who fear him, in 
those who hope in his mercy. While I live, I will praise the 
Lord. I will sing praises to my God while I have being ! " 

Every night, at some time, we had missed the Parson, prob- 
ably his time was spent in adoration. As I heard the deep, ear- 
nest voice, and saw the kneeling figure, head bare, and thrown 
back in the dim, winter light, the dark forest for a background, 
and the sighing of the pines for an undertone, I concluded it was 
one of the most sublime scenes my young eyes had ever met. 



l868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 13$ 

March $th. Large loads of provisions are daily arriving ; not 
for us, but for the use of the "log-drivers," when the spring 
freshet opens the brooks. 

This forelaying is indispensable ; as, after the snow has left, 
transportation is almost impossible, until after the lakes open, 
which is seldom earlier than the second or third week in May. 
The brooks and streams, or wherever there is quick water, are 
'much earlier; and if there is sufficient quantity, the logs are 
driven down to the lakes, ready to be rafted when the ice shall 
disappear. 

15^. The sun is very warm today, snow rapidly sinking. 
Soon, the logging-road will be impassable for loaded teams. The 
men are in high glee, longing for their homes. They say, 
" We have done a smashing winter's work." And they are " going 
home in style." I do not ask how ; but wait for time to show. 

Everything is in commotion, packing up for our retreat. I am 
not sorry to get into civilized life again, and long to show 
the folks my improved condition. Everything readable is read ; 
and, so far as "log-culling" is concerned, I believe I have "seen 
the elephant." 

My pet deer is fat, brown, and glossy a great beauty ! We 
have made a nice pen, and screwed on to the sled ; but I fear 
she will fret and chafe on the journey. 

Think I forgot to tell you that I shot one deer, when out on a 
regular hunt a fair hunt for the crust was so, stiff, they could 
outrun us ; and it did'nt seem so much like murder. With an 
even chance, these animals are magnificent game. But you must 
see them, and judge for yourself. 

17^. (" St. Patrick's Day in the morning! ") A jolly crew are 
fitting out the sleds, singing, capering, and antic as school-boys. 
A most grotesque appearance they make, unshaven through the 
whole winter, and many with scarlet flannel outer-shirts, no 
overcoats, but about as many shirts each, as " Harry Gill " wore 
waistcoats. 

Stakes are driven all around the sleds ; and a teakettle, coffee- 
pot, dipper, or frying-pan, hung on each " in style." I find 
means to make everything as ridiculous as possible. Sometimes 
remnants of beef and pork are suspended in sight, and upon 
entering the town, the men hurrah and shout before their employ- 
er's house, and appear more like Calathumpians than sensible, 
reading men, as the most of them are. 



136 THE LOGGERS j OR, [April, 

Uncle told me what to expect. That it " was merely an ebulli- 
tion of joy at getting home again, and in entire accordance with 
their unwashed winter gear ; not half so boisterous, as when liquor 
was allowed." 

One or two men are to remain, and take charge of the provi- 
sions until the " drivers " come up ; for bears, hungry from their 
winter sleep, often destroy large quantities. The question has 
come up quite often, " Who is to stay ? " Many have families, and 
cannot ; and some have sweethearts, and will not. 

" I will stay alone," said the " Parson," gravely. " With dogs 
and guns, there is nothing to fear, but bears ; and I am as near 
my family here, as anywhere." 

Struck by his looks, and the peculiar pathos of his words, I 
asked quickly, " Are your family all dead ? " 

" All ; every one ! There is no one to look for me no one to 
care for me now but God ! " 

And so we left him, alone in the wilderness, and started for 
town. 

The deer-pen occupied the whole back-part of our sled. Along 
the front, we piled our clothing, and as much cooked provision as we 
should need on our journey. " Sacker," the man who owned the 
" little nine-year-old gal," drove. Pete sat on one side, and your 
humble servant on the other. 

Rabbits and squirrels were very plenty this bright spring morn- 
ing, the latter chattering and scolding ; while flocks of crows are 
sailing above us, telling, as the men say, that " rain is soon com- 
ing." Ground -sparrows are about us everywhere, and many little 
birds that make my heart glad with their merry chirping. 

I love to gaze upon the vast expanse of forest scenery, as we 
come upon the brow of some high hill, and look before us. The 
road winds over many such ; and it is almost sublime to take in 
such a stretch of green, unbroken solitude, where Nature has 
worked out her own curious designs without interruption from 
man. 

Take the map, and look over Maine and New Brunswick. You 
will find that more than half of each is covered with forests , 
and if you find " Monument Brook," on the dividing-line, you will 
know where I have lived the past winter. 

It is not pleasant to think, that, sooner or later, the woodsman's 
axe will level all. But this must be, as it is the country's wealth, 
the mine which is to supply the wants and give labor to the 
people. 



I868.J SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 137 

Pine is already scarce in many districts ; spruce, eagerly sought 
after ; hackmatack, a species of larch, much used in ship-building ; 
and hemlock, grand old hemlock, with a body like a giant, 
and foliage, wavy and graceful as the drapery of a ballroom belle, 
even 'that must be despoiled of its beauty, for the benefit of the 
tanner. 

2oth. Frank, dear Frank, everything comes out just like a 
well-written story-book ! Mother and father were here to receive 
me when I reached my uncle's, anxious to see their sick boy ! 
Such looks ! Why, my father really capered with joy, as he 
slapped me on the shoulders ; and my mother, oh, my darling 
mother! didn't the smiles and tears fight for mastery? Didn't I 
see a drop in my good uncle's eye ? But, never mind ; I'm not 
good at scene-painting. Only, we had a great old time ; and I felt 
sort of gladdish there were such things as fathers and mothers. 

My uncle insists upon my going " back on the ' drive,' to make a 
sure thing of my health ; " and so, the matter is settled. I shall 
be away from you and college another three months. " Too 
bad ! " you will say ; but, look out for a Samson when I do come ! 
I shall move the gates of our " Gym-gaza-ium," and everything within 
them. Wo be unto the weakly ones, when the stripling from the 
forest gets among them ! His arms are strong from using the 
lengthened helve ; his breath long and heart large from inhaling 
the pure breeze and the delicious green-wood aromas. But, 
enough of nonsense. 

Our pet is truly a " thing of beauty." My mother rejoices 
over it, and calls it " Lulu." There is no danger, I think, of los- 
ing her now ; she seems better contented, and does not fret and 
chafe. 

My companions in camp-life come frequently to see her, and 
are so much improved by their holiday-dress, that you would 
hardly know them. 

Until the time to go on the " drive," they rest, or attend to little 
family matters. The young man who got so excited over Mrs. 
Stowe's " Uncle Tom," borrows many books from me, and, I am 
inclined to think, will yet make his mark in the world. 

Sacker and his " little girl " stood watching " the deer " when 
I went out this morning. It is amusing, to see his devotion to the 
child, and pleasant to think, that, through her or his love for her 
his reformation was brought about. She is a puny, frail little 
thing, whose life-mission, I fear, is a short one. 



138 THE LOGGERS. [April, 

April iot/1. Have just returned from a pleasant jaunt to St. 
John and Frederickton, parting with father and mother at Eastport, 
where they took passage for Boston. We went through to Freder- 
ickton by land, and enjoyed a few days at the Seat of Government 
finely. The House of Assembly was in session, and the forms 
and rules are like those of the British Parliament precisely. 
Some of the paintings in the Council Chamber were very 
fine. 

I can imagine Frederickton to be a delightful, quiet summer resi- 
dence, situated as it is upon the bank of the St. John River, the 
houses having a comfortable English look, and surrounded by 
trees and shrubbery. There is a fine cathedral, college, and 
many rare private gardens. 

The sail down the river was delightful, and the distance ninety 
miles. No other that I have seen equals it, excepting the St. 
Lawrence. Broad, clear, and at times almost enchanting, as it 
stretched out over intervals, or bathed the borders of sweet little 
villages, that nestled cosily within their wealth of shrubbery and 
rural beauty. A few miles before it reaches the harbor, it is rapid 
and romantic. The view of the falls and the rapids from the sus- 
pension-bridge is wonderfully beautiful, and would well repay you 
for a journey there. 

Many huge ships and several steamers were afloat in the fine 
harbor. The city of St. John itself has many points of interest, 
and a population of fifty thousand \ but attracts me less than 
Frederickton. The i5th Regiment is on parade, and makes a fine 
appearance in their scarlet uniforms. Their band played finely 
nearly every evening in King's or Queen's Square. 

Left the wharf in steamer " New England," in a thick fog, which 
soon lifted, showing us all the beauties of the bay, and its wonder- 
ful islands. My father was strongly tempted to remain at Grand 
Minan, as it is a place of resort for naturalists. But as it was 
rather early in the season, he consoled himself by a long talk with 
some gentlemen on board concerning Agassiz and other scien- 
tific men. I only listened long enough, to hear " that the rock- 
waves in New Brunswick were more wonderful than in Maine." 




i868.] 



OUR LITTLE NEWSBOY. 



139 




OUR LITTLE NEWSBOY. 

URRYING to catch a certain car, 
at a certain corner, late one stormy 
night, I was suddenly arrested by 
the sight of a queer-looking bundle 
lying in a door-way. 
"Bless my heart, it's a child!* 

John ! I'm afraid he's frozen ! " 

1 exclaimed to my brother, as we 
both bent over the bundle. 

Such a little fellow as he was, in 
the big, ragged coat ; such a tired, 
baby face, under the fuzzy cap; such 
a purple, little hand, still holding fast 
a few papers ; such a pathetic sight 
altogether, was the boy, lying on the stone step, with the snow 
drifting over him, that it was impossible to go by. 

" He is asleep ; but he'll freeze, if left so, long. Here, wake up, 
my boy; and go home, as fast as you can," cried John, with a gentle 
shake, and a very gentle voice ; for the memory of a dear little lad, 
safely tucked up at home, made him fatherly-kind to the small 
vagabond. 

The moment he was touched, the boy tumbled up, and, before s 
he was half awake, began his usual cry, with an eye to business. 

" Paper, sir ? ' Herald ! ' ' Transkip ! ' Last "a great 

gape swallowed up the " last edition ; " and he stood blinking at 
us like a very chilly, young owl. 

" I'll buy 'em all, if you'll go home, my little chap ; it's high time 
you were abed," said John, whisking the damp papers into one 
pocket, and his purse out of another, as he spoke. 

"All of 'em? why, there's six!" croaked the boy, for he was 
as hoarse as a raven. 

" Never mind, I can kindle the fire with 'em. Put that in your 
pocket ; and trot home, my man, as fast as possible." 

"Where do you live?" I asked, picking up the fifty cents that 
fell from the little fingers, too benumbed to hold it. 

" Mills Court ; out of Hanover. Cold, ain't it ? " said the boy, 
blowing on his purple hands, and hopping feebly, from one leg to 
the other, to take the stiffness out. 



140 OUR LITTLE NEWSBOY. [April, 

" He can't go all that way in this storm, such a mite, and so 
used up with cold and sleep, John." 

" Of course, he can't ; we'll put him in a car," began John ; 
when the boy wheezed out, 

" No ; I've got ter wait for Sam. He'll be along, as soon's the 
theatre's done. He said he would ; and so I'm waitin'." 

"Who is Sam?" I asked. 

" He's the feller I lives with. I ain't got any folks, and he 
takes care o' me." 

" Nice care, indeed ; leaving a baby like you, to wait for him 
here, such a night as this," I said, crossly. 

" Oh, he's good to me, Sam is ; though he does knock me round 
sometimes, when I ain't spry. The big fellers shoves me back, 
you see ; and I gets cold, and can't sing out loud ; so I don't sell 
my papers, and has to work 'em off late." 

" Hear the child talk ! One would think he was sixteen, instead 
of six," I said, half-laughing. 

" I'm most ten. Hi ! ain't that a oner ? " cried the boy, as 
a gust of sleet slapped him in the face, when he peeped to see if 
Sam was coming. " Hullo ! the lights is out ! Why, the play's 
done, and the folks gone ; and Sam's forgot me." 

It was very evident, that Sam had forgotten his little protege; 
and a strong desire to shake Sam possessed me. 

" No use waitin' any longer ; and now my papers is sold, I ain't 
afraid to go home," said the boy, stepping down, like a little old 
man with the rheumatism, and preparing to trudge away through 
the storm. 

" Stop a bit, my little Casabianca ; a car will be along, in fifteen 
minutes ; and while waiting, you can warm yourself over there," 
said John, with the purple hand in his. 

" My name's Jack Hill, not Gassy Banks, please, sir," said the 
little party, with dignity. 

" Have you had your supper, Mr. Hill ? " asked John, laughing. 

" I had some peanuts, and two sucks of Joe's orange ; but it 
warn't very fillin'," he said, gravely. 

" I should think not. Here ! one stew ; and be quick, please," 
cried John, as we sat down, in a warm corner of the confectioner's, 
opposite. 

While little Jack shovelled in the hot oysters, with his eyes 
shutting up now and then, in spite of himself, we looked at him, 
and thought again of little Rosy-face at home, safe in his warm 



1 868.] OUR LITTLE NEWSBOY. 141 

nest, with mother-love watching over him. Nodding toward the 
ragged, grimy, forlorn, little creature, dropping asleep over his 
supper like a tired baby, I said, 

" Can you imagine our Freddy, out alone at this hour, trying to 
" work off" his papers, because afraid to go home till he has ? " 

" I'd rather not try," answered brother John, winking hard, as 
he stroked the little head Reside him, which, by the by, looked very 
like a ragged, yellow door-mat. I think brother John winked hard, 
but I can't be sure, for I know I did ; and for a minute, there 
seemed to be a dozen little newsboys dancing before my eyes. 

" There goes our car ; and it's the last," said John, looking at 
me. 

" Let it go, but don't leave the boy ; " and I frowned at John, for 
hinting such a thing. 

" Here is his car. Now, my lad, bolt your last oyster, and come 
on." 

" Good-night, ma'am ! Thankee, sir ! " croaked the grateful, 
little voice, as the child was caught up in John's strong hands, and 
set down on the car-step. 

With a word to the conductor, and a small business transaction, 
we left Jack coiled up in a corner, to finish his nap as tranquilly as 
if it wasn't midnight, and a " knocking round " might not await him 
at his journey's end. 

We didn't mind the storm much, as we plodded home ; and when 
I told the story to Rosy-face, next day, his interest quite reconciled 
me to the sniffs and sneezes of a bad cold. 

" If I saw that poor little boy, Aunt Weedy, I'd love him lots ! " 
said Freddy, with a world of pity in his beautiful child's eyes. 

And, believing that others also would be kind to little Jack, and 
such as he, I tell the story. 

When busy fathers hurry home at night, I hope they 'If buy their 
papers of the small boys, who get " shoved back ; " the feeble ones, 
who grow hoarse, and can't " sing out ; " the shabby ones, who, evi- 
dently, have only forgetful Sams to care for them ; and the hungry- 
looking ones, who don't get what is " fillin'." For love of the little 
sons and daughters safe at home, say a kind word, buy a paper, 
even if you don't want it ; and never pass by, leaving them to sleep 
forgotten in the streets at midnight, with no pillow but a stone, no 
coverlid but the pitiless snow, and not even a tender-hearted robin 
to drop leaves over them. L. M. ALCOTT. 



142 LITTLE PEARL. [April, 





LITTLE PEARL. 

CHAPTER II. GOING TO THE WEDDING. 

Y the next day, the weather was fine. To Agnes and 
Gassy, there was a new charm in the sunshine, and the 
fresh, sweet air, for they were going to the wedding. 
They had said nothing about going, either to their father 
or Miss Muggins ; but, right or wrong, and in defiance of every 
obstacle, they were determined that they would go. 

So, during the forenoon, they behaved unusually well, and staid 
with Pearl and Bliss ; but as soon as dinner was over, they went 
up into the playroom, to get ready to go, for Lule had told them 
to be at her house at two o'clock. 

" Oh, dear ! what shall we do with the children ? " said Agnes. 
" I wish they'd go to sleep, and not wake up till tomorrow morn- 
ing. They'll be over there after us ; you see if they are not ! " 

" Just what I expect," said Cassy ; " and the best thing we can 
do, is to. tell Pearl we are going, and make her promise that she 
won't come. We'll tell her that we will bring her a lot of good 
things, how much we want to go, how we will never run away 
from her any more, and I guess she won't cry." 

Pearl soon came into the room, and they told her. 

" And you are willing, aren't you, darling ? " said Agnes, kissing 
her. 

" We will stay just a little while," said Cassy. " We only want 
to see how they get married ; and then, we will come right home." 

Pearl consented ; she would not be selfish, and take away their 
joy. 

Agnes and Cassy did not see the grief of the little paleface ; 
nor did they see it, when, a short time afterwards, Pearl went into 
the garden, and kneeling beside her brother's grave, cried as 
though her little heart was broken. 



1868.] LITTLE PEARL. 143 

"Agnes, wasn't it very rude of Lule, to tell us to ' slick up,'" 
said Gassy, trying to put on an unmended stocking in such a way, 
that holes would not show. " I guess she will find that we will 
* slick up,' and look a great deal better than her little dowdy 
cousins ; won't we ? " 

Agnes did not hear ; she was trying to unlock one of the trunks 
where her mother's clothes were kept. 

" There, Cassy," she said ; " we might as well give up going, we 
never can get this old thing open, in the 'world ! " 

"Well, it's got to come open ! " said Cassy, jumping up fromthe 
floor, and trying her strength. " After having such a time to get the 
key, I won't be cheated out of it ! " and making one great effort, 
with all the force of her will and the strength of her arm, she 
turned the lock. If the sight that met their view, when the trunk 
*vas opened, gave them a little thrill of pain, it was soon forgotten. 

" I'm going to have that little blue silk shawl ! " said Cassy. 

" No, you mustn't ; it's too old for you. I am going to wear 
that ! " said Agnes. 

" Too old ! " repeated Cassy " I suppose you think you could 
wear your grandmother's cap. Well, I'll have this cape, then,'* 
she said, snatching at an old-fashioned, wrought-muslin cape,^ 
which she had always greatly admired ; " and I'll have this parasol, 
too ! " ' 

"How it would look a little girl like you," said Agnes; "you 
better wear the veil, so as to cover up your old hat." 

" I suppose you want the parasol," said Cassy. " Well, I don't 
care ; I rather have the veil oh, here is something better than 
all ! " she exclaimed, taking up a small bottle of cologne : " I guess 
my little cousins won't have anything like this ! " and she began 
pouring the cologne on her neck and handkerchief. 

" Well, you needn't take all of it," said Agnes ; " I guess I want 
some ! " i 

Any way they may have looked, when dressed, they were cer- 
tainly well pleased with themselves. 

" If my frock was only a little nicer," said Agnes, turning, to 
take another look in the glass. " Does it show where I let the 
tucks out, Cassy ? " 

" Yes ; " said Cassy, " and it's too long it's way down to your 
heels ; you look like an old woman ! " 

" I don't, either ! I should think 'twas you who looked like an 
old woman, with that cape on ! " 



144 



LITTLE PEARL. 



[April, 




They had no time to waste in words ; the clock struck two. So 
they crept softly out of the house, and ran as swiftly as they could, 
until they reached a place where they thought Miss Muggins 
could not see them. 

When they arrived at the grove, they found that they were late. 
Every one was in the parlor, the bride and bridegroom were stand- 
ing up before the minister, and the room was so crowded, that 
there was no place to sit ; so they waited at the door until the 
ceremony was over, Gassy, with her veil over her face ; and 
Agnes, with her parasol still open. 

" Oh, cracky ! look out in the entry ! " they heard Ben whisper 
to Lule, just as the minister was saying the last words. 

Lule hurried to the door, taking her little cousins with her. 

"Where did you get that good-smelling stuff?" she asked, 
smiling slightly, and looking with great curiosity at Agnes and 
Gassy. Neither noticed the question nor the smile, for they 
were looking at the little cousins. 



l868.] LITTLE PEARL. 145 

Just then, a loud " ha, ha ! " from Ben attracted their attention ; 
and, turning, they saw every one in the room looking at them. 

" Is Ben laughing at us ? " said Gassy, with a proud toss of her 
little, curly head. 

" No, I a,in't," said Ben, coming to the door ; " I'd like to see a 
fellow laugh at you, Cas ! " 

" Lule hain't you got no manners ? " said Mrs. Fenwick. 
" Come in, my little dears ; the bride wants to see you ; it's too 
bad you was so late." 

The children walked into the room, with such an air of dignity, 
that it was hard even for kind Mrs. Fenwick not to laugh. 

"Marm what have they got on 'em? they smell better than 
cloves," said Lule, standing close to Gassy, and snuffing. 

" It's cologne ? " said Agnes. 

" Co-log-ne ? " repeated Ben ; " what in time is that ? " 

" Tad, what is it ? " whispered Susy. 

Tad, was Lule's youngest brother ; he was the scholar of the 
family, and Tad knew everything ; but Tad did not know what 
cologne was. 

" It is perfumery," said Gassy ; and she took out her handker- 
chief, and passed it to Lule. 

The children appeared to receive quite as much attention as the 
bride, and they were so delighted with it all, that they quite forgot 
their promise to Pearl, and remained late in the afternoon, until 
the bridal party were ready to leave. 

" Let's go and take a walk on the road, and see 'em out of sight," 
said Lule, as the bride was bidding her friends good-by. 

Agnes and Gassy could not refuse the invitation, for Tad said 
he would go too ; and it was always great fun to go anywhere with 
Tad. They were never afraid of anything when he was with them ; 
and he always had so much to talk about, for he went into town 
to school every day. 

" We mustn't go very far," Agnes whispered to Gassy, when they 
were ready to start ; " the sun is almost down, and we may meet 
father." 

But Tad told her of a beautiful grape-vine swing that he had 
found in the woods, and planned how she and Lule should go 
with him to see it, the next Saturday afternoon, and not let Gassy 
and Susy know ; so Agnes never thought of turning back until all 
had gone some distance, and " Jero " bounded into the road before 
her. 



146 LITTLE PEARL. [April, 

" Why, how did Jero come here ? " she exclaimed, turning pale 
with fright ; for she knew that Jero never ran away from Pearl. 

Jero began to act in a strange manner. He ran backward and 
forward, from the road to the woods, whined and barked, and seemed 
to want them to follow him somewhere. They understood, and 
followed him to a tree, a little way from the roadside, and there 
they found Pearl and Bliss lying on the ground, fast asleep, and 
looking as though they had cried themselves so. Their faces were 
still wet with tears, and flushed to a burning-red; their clothes 
were covered with dust, and Pearl had lost off one of her shoes. 

"Oh! my poor little sister my poor little sister my poor 
little brother ! " cried Agnes and Gassy. " Oh ! what shall we 
do ? what shall we do ? " 

The noise soon awoke Pearl, who, finding Agnes bending over 
her, threw her arms around her sister's neck, and fairly screamed 
with joy. 

" Aggie ! " was all she could say ; " O Aggie, Aggie ! " 

At last, she told them how it all happened. Noody died, Pearl 
said ; and so she went into the woods, a little way from the house, 
to bury her under some leaves, and when she came back, she found 
that Bliss had run away. He had gone down the road, and was 
almost out of sight. She ran after him, but couldn't get him back. 
He said he was going to see his papa, and have a ride home. 
Finally, he got frightened, and began to cry, and run all the faster. 
She couldn't get to him till he fell down and hurt himself, and 
then she was so tired, that they went there and laid down. 

" Why didn't you come to us ? " asked Gassy ; " you went right 
by the grove." 

" Because, I said I wouldn't go after you ; don't you know I did, 
Gassy ? " 

Agnes and Gassy bowed their heads in shame. Had they been 
as true to their word ? ^ 

" Come, little Pearl ; I will carry you home in my arms ! " said 
Tad, bending low, to hide the tears in his eyes. 

And Bliss, no longer wilful, was very glad to have Agnes and 
Lule carry him home, too. 



1868.] THE HYLAS. 147 




THE HYLAS. 

IN the crimson sunsets of the spring, 

Children, have you heard the hylas pipe, 

Ere with robin's call the meadows ring. 
Ere the silver willow-buds are ripe ? 

Long before the swallow dares appear, 
When the April weather frees the brooks, 

Sweet and high, a liquid note you hear, 

Sounding clear from damp and quiet nooks ; 

Rich and sweet as any bird can sing, 

Fine as fluting of a fairy host, 
Hinting all the rapture of the spring, 

In the single note the hylas boast ! 

" What are hylas ? " ask you. Only toads ! 

Little tree-toads, brown and green and gray ; 
Not like those that hop about the roads, 

Smaller, slenderer, prettier, than they. 

All the winter long, they hide and sleep 
In the damp earth's bosom, safe and fast ; 

When the warm rains find them, out they creep, 
Glad to feel that April's come at last. 

Glad and grateful, up the trees they climb, 

Pour their cheerful music on the air, 
Crying, " Here's an end of snow and rime ! 

Beauty is beginning everywhere ! " 

Listen, children, for so sweet a cry ! 

Listen, till you hear the hylas sing, 
Ere the first star glitters in the sky, 

In the crimson sunsets of the spring. 

CELIA THAXTER. 



148 WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. [April, 



. w^-: ''"'.-f; * 



WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 



JUST wish I had another story as good as that," exclaimed 
Will, as he turned the last page of " Gulliver's Travels." 

" I dare say I can find you something as interesting, 
and more profitable, perhaps," said grandma, looking down 
at the young gentleman lying in the grass at her feet. 

" I know what you'll advise, ' Sandford and Merton,' ' Harry 
and Lucy,' or the ' Sequel to Frank.' I'm tired to death of 'em 
all, 'specially that prig of a Harry, with his everlasting barometer. 
I like ' Robinson Crusoe,' ' Swiss Family,' and * Gulliver,' all 
about queer places, and people, and the way they live," answered 
Will, with his boots higher than his head. 

" I could tell you about places, and creatures as curious and 
interesting as the Liliputians, whom you like so much, if you cared 
to hear of them," replied grandma, placidly. 

" Can you ? Where are they ? " asked Will, surprised. 

" You are lying on one of them ; and there is another just 
behind Polly." 

" Hullo ! " cried Will, rolling over to look, while Polly stared 
about her, with a wild expression. 

" Yes ; there are two wonderful cities, full of busy, brave, and 
accomplished little people, about whom you know nothing ; though 
you see them every day," added grandma, nodding wisely. 

" I know what she means ! I see 'em ! " cried Polly, who " sat 
on a turrit, like Miss Muffit," not eating curds and whey, but 
making a pepelum for her doll Seraphina. 

" An ant-hill and the beehive are all I see," said Will, following 
Polly's quick eyes. "We know about them, of course." 

" Do you ? Tell me how much ? " 

"Well, ants live in the ground, and get in sugar-buckets, and 
bite ; and bees make wax and honey, and buzz, and sting like 
fury," replied Will, briskly. 



i868.] WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 149 

" And how do they make their houses, and live, and work, and 
raise their little ones ? " asked grandma. 

" Oh, they that is, I believe well really, I don't know," 
was Will's rather unsatisfactory answer. 

"Shall I tell you?" 

" If you please, grandma ; " and, feeling somewhat abashed by 
his failure, Will meekly composed himself to listen, chewing grass 
meantime, like a ruminating calf. 

" Tell about the bees first I found out quickest ; and I always 
liked bees, ever since I was a mite of a girl, and used to say about 
the ' Little biddy bee,' and ' How skittly she builds her cell,' " said 
Polly, sewing away like a matron of forty with a large family to 
provide for, instead of a ten-year-older, with only one doll, a cat, 
and canary, dependent upon her. 

" We'll try a bit, and see how you like it ; " so, settling her knit- 
ting, grandma began. "If we could enter that little door, we 
should find a city full of busy inhabitants, a kingdom which has 
been prettily described by a certain famous William, who knew 
more about them than our Will, though he uses the word { king/ 
instead of queen, to suit the character who speaks : 

" 'They have a king, and officers of sorts ; 
Some, like magistrates, correct at home ; 
Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad ; 
Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, 
Make raid upon the summer's velvet buds ; 
Which pillage, they, with merry march, 
Bring home to the tent-royal of their emperor ; 
Who, busied in his majesty, surveys 
The singing masons, building roofs of gold ; 
The civil citizens kneading up the honey ; 
The poor mechanic-porters crowding in 
Their heavy burdens at the narrow gate ; 
The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum, 
Delivering o'er to executors pale, 
The lazy, yawning drone.' " 

"Why, do they do all those things really?" asked Will, looking 
at the hive, as if interested already. 

" Yes ; there are workers of all kinds, and each does his part 
faithfully. When put into a new hive, the bees at once begin to 
lay the foundation of their combs, which they prepare with aston- 
ishing quickness. Then, they make the wonderful little cells : 



150 WILL'S WONDER- BOOK. [April, 

which, being six-sided, waste no room. They are of thin wax, 
polished and smoothed by the bees' jaws, and finished with a ring 
round the edge, for strength, like the threshold of a door. The 
combs are generally arranged with streets between, so the bees 
can go up and down : they are just wide enough for two bees to 
pass one another. They often have cross-streets, which are cov- 
ered. They stop up all cracks in the hive with what is called bee- 
glue, which they collect from poplars, willows, and other trees. 
If a snail, or any creature too large for them to manage, gets in, 
they seal it up in a thick covering of glue ; and so keep the air 
pure, and render the invader harmless. 

"You know how they*get the honey, by running their long 
tongues into flowers. This honey goes into a little bag, or 
stomach, which they fill, and empty into the cells, the mouths of 
which are closed up with waxen lids. Some honey-pots are left 
without covers, for food in bad weather ; but they never touch 
these when the weather is fine, and fresh food can be got." 

" Dear me ! think of living among hundreds of honey-pots, and 
not touching them ! I shouldn't make a good bee," said Polly, 
thinking of the lumps of sugar that daily tempted her in the china- 
closet. 

"They are taught obedience, and are not gluttons," replied 
grandma, with a little shake of the head, which Polly understood 
perfectly well. 

" Please, go on, ma'am," said Seraphina's little mother, pricking 
her fingers, and puckering the pepelum, in her flurry. 

"The queen-bee is larger than the others, and lays all the 
eggs, many thousands, sometimes. These eggs are laid in the 
cells, and, a day or two after, the grubs are born, little worms, 
rolled up in rings. The common bees turn nurses, and take care 
of the babies with the greatest tenderness, feeding and tending 
them for about six days, when they are fully grown. Then they 
shut them up, to keep them safe ; and they line the walls of the cells 
with silken tapestry, in which they undergo the last change. When 
they first come out winged insects, they are very weak ; but, in a 
few hours, they become strong enough to fly oft and go to work." 

" Don't you wish our babies grew up, and got useful, as quick as 
that ? What lots of trouble it would save," said Will, who, boylike, 
didn't see the charms of " little squallers," as he called very young 
men and women. 

" Mothers and grandmas would lose a deal of pleasure, if they 



i868.] WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 151 

did," said the old lady, who had petted both children evei since 
they were born. " Well, my dears, these little friends of ours are 
loyal to death, and cling to their queen through everything. If 
she happens to die, all work stops till a new queen appears. If 
she is taken away, they follow, if they can, and will not leave her. 
A man tried the experiment of cutting off a queen-bee's wing, and 
keeping her where the rest could follow. They gathered round her ; 
and, as she could not fly away, they preferred to stay and starve, 
rather than quit her. For five days, they lived without food, but 
not one left her ; and, at last, all lay dead, with the dear queen 
still in their midst." 

" They rallied round the flag like good ones, didn't they ? I 
like 'em for that ; " and Will sat up, to watch a burly brown bee 
hard at work in a dandelion close by. 

" I heard of a man who had the power of charming bees, so that 
they obeyed him, and never hurt him in the least. They would 
swarm all over his head and shoulders quite harmlessly, and let 
him do what he liked. He played general with them, arranging 
them on a table, in regiments and battalions, where they waited 
till he uttered the word of command, when they began to march, 
rank and file, like regular soldiers. He taught his liliputians 
politeness also, for none ever stung the people who came to see 
the curious show." 

"I'd like to have seen that ! it must have been fun. Wonder 
if I could do it ? " said Will, eyeing the beehive, wistfully. 

" I advise you not to try, till you learn the charm. There are 
various kinds of bees, you know. Polly would like the poppy-bee, 
who makes her nest in the ground, burrowing down about three 
inches. Aj. the bottom, she makes a large, round hole, and lines 
it splendidly with the scarlet leaves of the wild poppy. She cuts 
and fits the pretty tapestry, till it is thick and soft and warm, then 
partly fills the cell with honey, lays an egg, folds down the red 
blankets, and closes up the hole, so it cannot be distinguished ; and 
there, in its rosy cradle, with food to eat, and a safe nook to rest in, 
she leaves her baby-bee to take care of itself." 

" How cunning ! I'll line Phena's cradle with red flannel right 
away," cried Polly, who dfo/like the poppy-bee. 

"The leaf-cutting bee makes her cells of green leaves, shaping 
them like thimbles. These little jars she half fills with a rose-colored 
paste of honey and pollen from thistles, lays her eggs, and covers 
the pots with round leaf-lids, that fit exactly. The mason-bee 



152 THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. [April, 

makes its nest of mud or mortar. It looks like a bit of dirt, stick- 
ing to a wall, but has little cells within. The mother-bee does all 
the work, sticking little grains of sand and earth together with her 
own glue. The carpenter-bee bores holes in posts, and makes 
her cells of sawdust and glue. The carding-bees live in holes, 
among stones and roots, making nests of moss, lined with wax, to 
keep the wet out, with a long gallery by which to enter. They find 
a bit of moss, and several bees place themselves in a row, with 
their backs toward the nest ; then the foremost lays hold of the 
moss and pulls it up with her jaws, drives it with her fore-feet 
under her b4fcly as far toward the next as possible. The second 
does the same ; and in this way, tiny heaps of prepared moss are 
got to the nest by the file of four or five, and others weave it into 
shape." 

" They must look as if they were playing leap-frog. Here, old 
fellow, give us a back ! " cried Will, with a laugh, and a leap over 
the brown bee still tumbling about in the dandelion. 

L. M. ALCOTT. 



THE FLOWERS OF SPRING. 

FROM THE GERMAN. 

WHERE are all the flowers today ? 

Sleeping in the ground are they, 

Covered in their snowy bed 

(Lest you wake them softly tread). t 

When our loving Lord, in spring, 

Doth the golden sunshine bring, 

The snowy blanket off he'll take, 

And say " My children must awake ! " 

Then their little heads peep, shy, 

As they come out cautiously ; 

Then springs forth each flower-cup, 

And their tender eyes look up. 

s. w. IANDER. 



1 868.] 



GEORGE STEPHENSON, THE ENGINEER. 



153 




GEORGE STEPHENSON, THE ENGINEER. 

YOU must take George Stephen- 
son's motto, and persevere, Rob, if 
you ever expect to succeed. It 
ended in most wonderful results 
to him." 

" Who was he, auntie ? What 
did he do ? Will y<fu please tell 
me about him ? " 

" But that lesson, which you say 
you cannot learn." 

" Perhaps, auntie, I can study bet- 
ter, if you just tell me about him." 

" I have but a short time to spare 
now ; sometime, you may read about 
him yourself. 

" George was the son of a very poor man, a fire-man of a pumping- 
engine at the coal mines, near Newcastle, England. All the chil- 
dren, as soon as they were old enough, had had to work. When 
the older brothers went to the mines with their father, George, at 
eight years old, earned three cents a day by taking care of cows, and 
shutting gates after the coal-wagons had gone over the road. lie 
was very fond of birds, and used to amuse himself with watching 
them and their different habits, nests, and eggs. He made whistles 
to imitate their notes, and built little water-wheels on the brooks. 
As he grew older, he led the plough-horses, and had six cents a 
day. He was very anxious to work at the mines with his father 
and brothers, and had one employment there, after another, till he 
was made assistant fire-man. His wages were twenty cents a day. 
At seventeen, he was an engine-man, and studied all the parts of 
the machine, till he could take it to pieces, clean, and put it together 
again ; and was never weary of watching its movements. It was his 
i>et. He was honest, patient, and persevering, anxious to learn, 
and laying the foundations of his future skill and success. He 
was eighteen years old before he began to learn to read ; but he 
was determined to be able to read of all those wonderful machines 
and discoveries, that he heard were described in books. He went 
to a school, three evenings in a week, where he learned to read, 



154 GEORGE STEPHENSON, THE ENGINEER. [April, 

spell, and write. At nineteen, he was very proud, because he could 
write his name. Then he began arithmetic, and worked his sums 
by the engine-fire. After this, he was brakeman, and had more 
leisure, and earned money by mending and making shoes for 
the workmen. He saved a guinea of this money, and felt him- 
self quite a rich man. When he was twenty-one, he married a 
pretty, pleasant girl, who made his home very happy while she 
lived, which was only three years. He had one little boy, Robert, 
who become as celebrated as his father, and built the bridge over 
the Menai Straits, the Level Bridge at Newcastle, and the Victoria 
Bridge, over the St. Lawrence, I believe, also. George Stephenson 
learned how to take clocks and watches apart and clean them ; 
and gained money in this way, to send his little boy to school He 
was determined his child should never suffer, as he had done, for 
want of education. He read all the books he could get, that de- 
scribed machinery; and made useful improvements in the pumping- 
engines used at the mines, and tried to study out the locomotive 
engine, which was then thought to be of no practical use. 

" The railroads then were unlike those we have now, some were 
made of wood, others of iron ; and the wagons used were drawn by 
horses. They were somewhat like the horse-railroads, and were 
called tram-ways. Stephenson studied, thought, and decided, that 
a steam-engine could be made to do the work of horses, draw 
heavier loads, and with greater speed. Some ridiculed this idea ; 
but he had good friends who assisted him in his plans, and after 
twelve years of patient labor, he took out a patent for a locomotive 
steam-engine in 1815. All the splendid engines since built are 
after this model, with, of course, improvements and additions he 
made afterwards. He also invented a safety-lamp for the miners, 
called by them ' The Geordy,' which is still used. This was made 
and used before Sir Humphrey Davy invented his ; but people then 
were very unwilling to believe that a common engine-man could 
do so much, and said he had stolen the idea from Sir Humphrey ; 
but it was proved that George first made the ' Geordy.' 

" The Stockton and Darlington Railroad, twenty-two miles long, 
was the one on which a locomotive was first run. Mr. Stephenson 
wished to have carriages for passengers attached to the wagon- 
trains, and they were used the day this road was opened. The 
engine, with a long train, went at the wonderful speed of twelve 
miles in three hours. Mr. Stephenson drove the engine, and was 
quite satisfied with the result. He made all the survey for the 
road himself, and the engine, too. 



1868.] GEORGE STEPHENSON, THE ENGINEER. 155 

"'There was all manner of opposition made to railroads and 
steam-engines. People said the land would be worthless all 
along the road ; that horses would be no longer useful ; that hay 
and oats could not be sold ; all the inns would be ruined for want 
of customers ; people would be blown to pieces ; the steam would 
kill the birds as they flew over it, and the foxes all be driven away. 
But after all these complaints, they said ' Railroads never could be 
used with steam power .' 

" Then the road between Liverpool and Manchester was surveyed; 
but the owners of estates were bitterly opposed to it. The sur- 
veyors were driven away, their instruments broken ; people came 
armed with clubs and scythes, and set the dogs on them. 

" There was great trouble and expense to get Parliament to allow 
the act to be passed, and the most foolish objections were made. 
Engines and carriages could not run on a smooth track, there must 
be friction; they could never go on a curve, they would run off; 
as to going ten miles an hour, it was impossible. " One gentleman 
said if an engine could be made to run ten miles an hour, ' he would 
eat a stewed engine-wheel for his breakfast.' But George's friends 
persevered through all obstacles and discouragements, and the 
Liverpool and Manchester road was opened September i5th, 1830. 

" Eight locomotives, built by the Stephensons, were on the track. 
George Stephenson had a right to be a proud man that day. A 
poor, ignorant collier-boy, by his industry, patience, perseverance, 
and energy, had conquered difficulties, and done what wise, learned 
men had said was impossible. Instead of ten miles an hour, they 
went thirty-six. 

" Stephenson, with two of his brothers, and his son Robert, had a 
large factory for building locomotives ; and they were sent to all 
countries where railroads were used. They made some which 
have been running thirty years. Some of their engines are in the 
United States. I should like to see one of them. 

" George Stephenson was now consulted .upon laying out new 
roads, he had pupils, and was constantly occupied for many years, 
and was considered the best informed man in England, in all 
that regarded railroads and locomotives. When he became a 
wealthy man, he retained all his simplicity, honesty, and industry. 
He was very kind to all young men who applied to him, and anx- 
ious to have them succeed. He would say to them, ' Persevere, 
as I have done. Learn for yourselves, think for yourselves ; 
be industrious ; make yourselves masters of principles ; and then 



156 GEORGE STEPHENSON, THE ENGINEER. [April, 

there is no fear of you.' He encouraged all that came to him with 
new inventions ; telling them wherein they would fail, or how to 
succeed, if the invention was worth anything. He was a devoted 
son and brother, very generous. The last years of his life he 
lived quietly, and devoted himself to farming, raising fine cattle. 
He had large hot-hou3es for melons, pears, and grapes ; and was 
very proud of his large cucumbers, which he was at great trouble 
to make grow straight. He was loved, respected, and appreciated. 

" The King of Belgium sent for him, to give his opinion upon a line 
of railroad in Belgium. He was treated with great attention and 
respect, dined with the king and queen, who were delighted with 
his conversation, so simple, and earnest. When some great road 
was completed to Brussels, he was again invited to Belgium by 
the king ; and at a great dinner, a model of his first locomotive, the 
* Rocket,' was one of the ornaments of the hall. 

" I could tell you a hundred anecdotes about him, but you have 
heard enough to understand why he should always say ' Persevere ; 
see what it has done for me.' He was always eager to learn, and 
there is always something ready for one who is. 

"George Stephenson died the i2th of August, 1848, sixty-nine 
years old. There is a statue of him, in St. George's Hall, Liver- 
pool ; and one at the Eastern Railroad Station, London. When 
we go to England, we will be sure to see them." 

" Auntie, I wish I could invent something. Do you think I ever 
can ? " 

" Very likely, if you are attentive, industrious, and persevering, 
like George Stephenson." COUSIN MARY. 




.1868.] 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 



157 




A GREAT NATURAL CURIOS- 
ITY. The Sentinel, published at 
Jacksonville, Oregon, of the I2th 
ult., says : " Several of our citi- 
zens returned, last week, from a 
visit to the Great Sunken Lake, 
situated in Cascade Mountains, 
about seventy-five miles northeast 
from Jacksonville. This lake rivals 
the famous Valley of Sinbad, the 
Sailor. It is thought to average 
two thousand feet down to the 
water, all round. The walls are 
almost perpendicular, running down 
into the water, and leaving no beach. 
The depth of the water is unknown, 
and its surface is smooth and un- 
ruffled, as it lies so far below the 
surface of the mountain, that the air- 
currents do not affect it. Its length 
is estimated at twelve miles, and its 
breadth at ten. There is an island 
in the centre, having trees upon it. 
No living man ever has, and prob- 
ably never will, be able to reach the 
waters edge. It lies silent, still, 
.and mysterious, in the bosom of the 
'everlasting hills,' like a huge 
well, scooped by the hands of the 
giant genii of the mountains, in the 
unknown ages gone by ; and around 
it, the primeval forests watch and 
.ward are keeping. The visiting 
party fired a rifle several times into 
the water, at an angle of forty-five 
degrees, and were able to note 
several seconds of time, from the 
report of the gun until the ball 



struck the water. This seems in- 
credible, but is vouched for by 
some of our most reliable citizens. 
The lake is certainly a most re- 
markable curiosity." 

CURIOUS ZOOLOGICAL SPECI- 
MENS. The French Consul-Gen- 
eral in Shanghae has just sent to 
the Garden of Acclimatization, in 
Paris, two unknown animals. The 
one is a mollusk, called " Thou-no- 
Dza," which is used by the Mongul 
Tartars, for the preparation of vine- 
gar. When the animal is put into 
a certain quantity of fresh water, it 
changes, in a few days, the liquid 
into good strong vinegar. Pater 
Hue, the celebrated missionary, 
over fifty years ago, gave a descrip- 
tion of this animal and its strange 
qualities, but was laughed at and 
sneered at by the scientific world. 
The present of the Consul-General 
corroborates now his statements in 
every particular. The second is a 
turtle, also sent from China, covered 
with green hairs. These are hardly- 
visible, until the animal .is put into 
water ; but then they become ex- 
panded like little flowers, spreading 
in every direction. 

SYMPATHY. Our little two-year- 
old fell, the other day, striking her 
head, and cried at the top of her 
voice. In the height of her grief, 
she chanced to cast her eye out of 



'58 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 



[April, 



the window, to where a worn-out, 
spiritless horse stood, with droop- 
ing head. Instantly drying her 
tears, she stepped to the wmdow, 
and, in the most sympathizing 
tones, said : 

" What's ee matter, hossy ? bump 
oo head ? " Burke 1 * Weekly. 

THE following account of a curi- 
ous experiment, we clip from an 
English paper : " Take a piece 
of pasteboard, about five inches 
square, roll it into a tube, with one 
end just large enough to fit round 
the eye, and the other end rather 
smaller. Hold the tube between 
the thumb and finger of the right 
hand (do not grasp it with the 
whole hand); put the large end 
close against the right eye, and with 
the left hand hold a book against 
the side of the tube. Be sure and 
keep both eyes open, and there will 
appear to be a hole through the 
book, and objects seem as if 
through the hole, instead of through 
the tube. The right eye sees 
through the tube, and the left eye 
sees the book, and the two appear- 
ances are so confounded together, 
that they cannot be separated. 
The left hand can be held against 
the tube, instead of a book, and the 
hole will seem to be through the 
hand. 

AN American business house, a 
few months ago, sent out a cargo of 
five hundred hoop-skirts to Japan, 
as a venture. The Japanese put 
covers on them, and used them for 
umbrellas. 

DEATH OF A REMARKABLE 
HEN. The Buffalo Commercial 
says : " Everybody knows that 
the gallant Weidrich's Battery 
(which did such good service du- 
ring the rebellion) accompanied 
Sherman on his ' march to the 
sea ; ' but everybody don't know, 
that during the march, somewhere in 
South Carolina, one of the soldiers 
of the battery captured a hen, 
he having determined, we presume, 



that Sherman should go through, 
if it took every hen along the 
whole route. This hen was not 
killed, but was tamed, and became 
a great favorite and pet with the 
men. Sometimes she would ride 
on a caisson, and sometimes on 
one of the horses. When a halt 
was called, and the soldiers ate 
their meals, she would forage about 
in quest of food, always returning 
to the battery ' to roost.' By way 
of requiting the kindness shown 
her, she laid an egg every week- 
day, in a nest prepared for her on 
a caisson > and we are not sure but 
that, 'on Sundays, she laid two.' 
She went safely through the long 
march to Savannah, thence to 
Richmond, and on to Washington, 
and was brought home with the 
boys of the battery to Buifalo. She 
was claimed by Private Jacob 
Dishinger, who doubtless, loved 
her for the dangers she had passed, 
and took the best possible care of 
her. She lived, honored and re- 
spected, until a few days ago, when 
she died at the residence of Mr. 
Dishinger, on Genesee Street. She 
was tenderly cared for during her 
illness, was deeply mourned, and 
interred with all due respect." 

A GENTLEMAN in Pittsburg, Pa., 
has whiled away his leisure hours 
in training four chickens to draw a 
small wagon in which the rooster 
is perched. They come, when 
called by name ; and when har- 
nessed, rattle over the lawn with 
great speed, while the rooster looks 
grave and dignified. 

A PROVIDENCE boy, five years 
of age, having stolen a can of milk, 
his mother took him to task with 
moral suasion, and wound up her 
discourse by exclaiming : " What 
in the world was you going to do 
with the milk, anyhow ? " "I was 
going to steal a little dog to drink 
it," was the crushing reply. 

A WALKER'S Dictionary The 
mile-stones. 



1868.1 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 



159 



WHAT KINDNESS WILL Do. 
How the wheels of the old cart 
creaked ! The Road was quite 
tired of hearing their complaints ; 
when lo ! suddenly they became 
quiet, and went smoothly on, mak- 
ing no doleful sound. 

" How now ? " cried the Road ; 
"what has happened, that you 
take things so easily, today ? Has 
the master taken off half your 
load ? " 

"No," said the Wheels; "he 
hasn't done that ; our burden is, if 
anything, heavier than before ; but 
this he has done, he has oiled us, 
so that whatever we may have to 
bear, we have no longer the heart 
to say a word against it." 

THE HABIT OF READING. The 
young should always cultivate a 
habit of reading, for it may be to 
them, not only the means of infor- 
mation, but the source of many of 
the finest enjoyments of life. They 
who make good books their con- 
stant companions will never want 
good and faithful friends in their 
prosperous days or their seasons 
of reverse. There can be no blank 
in the lives of those persons, who, 
from active love, hold daily fellow- 
ship with the wisest and best of 
their race. We think we could 
hardly be tempted to exchange our 
habit of reading for any other friend 
it may be our fortune to find on 
earth. And we are sure that any 
who will make this habit a friend, 
will ever esteem it among the 
wisest steps of their lives ; and so 
we counsel the young, from our 
own experience, among all their 
gettings in this world, to get the 
habit, the love of reading and 
always to have a good book with 
which to fill up every leisure hour. 
In this way, they may come to know 
that the gems of life are found in its 
waste places. 

THE merit of our actions consist 
not in doing extraordinary actions, 
but in doing ordinary actions extra- 
ordinary well. 



A GOOD CHARACTER. A good 
character is to a young man, what 
a firm foundation is to the artist 
who proposes to erect a building 
on it ; he can well build with 
safety, and all who behold it, will 
have confidence in its solidity a 
helping hand will never be wanted ; 
but let a single part of this be de- 
fective, and you go on a hazard, 
amid doubting and distrust ; and ten 
to one, it will tumble down at last, 
and mingle all that was ever built 
on it in ruin. Without a good 
character, poverty is a curse 
with it, scarcely an evil. Happiness 
cannot exist where good character 
is not where it is not a frequent 
visitor. All that is bright in the 
hope of youth, all that is calm and 
blissful in the sober scenes of life, 
all that is soothing in the vale of 
years, centres in, and is derived 
from a good character. Therefore, 
acquire this as the first and most 
valuable good. 

A LADY, out with her little girl 
and boy, bought the boy a rubber 
balloon, which escaped him, and flew 
up in the air. The girl, seeing the 
tears in his eyes, said : " Never 
mind, Neddy ; when you die and 
go to heaven, you'll dit it." 

THE man who can make his own 
fire, black his own boots, carry his 
own wood, hoe his own garden, pay 
his own debts, and live without 
wine and tobacco, need ask no 
favor of him who rides in a coach- 
and-four. 

OLD RACE. It has just been 
decided by one of our learned 
bodies, that the honor of being the 
Primitive Race of Mankind un- 
doubtedly belongs to the A-B-Cyn- 
ians. 

" PA, they tell us about the angry 
ocean ; what makes the ocean an- 
gry ? " " Oh, it has been crossed so 
often." 

A WORTHLESS Bond A vaga- 
bond. 



i6o 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[April, 





takes the head of a very respect- 
able class this month, and answers 
correctly twenty-seven out of the 
twenty-nine puzzles. He wins his 
second prize. 



QUESTIONS, ENIGMAS, CHARADES, 
ETC. 

88. I am composed of 17 letters : 
My 10, 2, 15, is a bird. 

My 15, 8, n, 12, is a bird. 

My 5, 16,7,9,4, 14, 17, 12, is a 

fish. 

My 8, 3, is a pronoun. 
My i, 13, 6, is the name of a 

goddess. 

My whole is the name of a toy. 
Cis. 

89. I am composed of 10 letters : 
My i, 8, 3, is to permit. 

My 4, 2, 7, is a metal. 



My 6, 5, 10, is a measure. 
My 4, 8, 9, 10, is a verb. 
My whole is one of Dickens's 
characters. Fritzchen. 

90. I hope the dear Merry's won't 
question the fact, if I venture 
to tell how remarkably active 
some parts of our alphabet 



91. 



92. 



93. 



(1) One letter is singing ; 

(2) Another is joking ; 

(3) Another is eating ; 
(4; Another is cooking ; 

(5) Another just lights a cigar. 

(6) Two letters are taking their 

part in a play, 

(7) And one is on horseback, 

fast riding away. 

(8) Another is roaming afar ; 

(9) Another is planing, 
(10) One, lining a cuff 

But this, for the present, is 

surely enough 
Now, who will explain what 

they are ? A. S. 

There is some good advice con- 
tained in the following letters. 
if you can only get at it : 
ORTUNESBY 
FNTTHEMUI 
SUOMRUSTE 
I M O TT O N D L 

Find a word of five letters, out 
of which you may make the 
nine parts of speech. 

I am a word of five letters, con- 
taining (i) four pronouns ; (2) 
an article ; (3) to inclose ; (4) 
to collect, and (5) to divide. 

Ixia. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



161 



ANAGRAMS. 

94. Pa, rob a pet. Northern Light. 

95. Cry pinch toes. Belle. 

96. Coral rope. A. O. 

97. Panic ties a cat. Joe Kose. 

98. Can I see Bo ? F. R. $. 

99. Titus tans one. Alice Tipton. 

WORDS ENIGMATICALLY EX- 
PRESSED. 

100. Fish it skilful. Auntie. 

101. Fix intended. Pearl. 

102. Show contempt for Ann, the 

tory. Rena. 

103. Illuminate dwelling. 

Violet Forest. 

104. Emma continue to flame. 

A. R. T. 

105. Indefinite article upon a tem- 
porary dwelling superior ani- 
mal is definite article nega- 
tive benefitted occupation of 
Divinity. 



116. 



106. Transpose a perfume into a 
fish. Fred. 

107. Transpose a language into a 
coin. Sigma. 

108. Behead a ruler and leave a 
bird. Florence. 

109. Behead one animal, transpose 
and leave another. Franc. 

no. Behead a weapon and leave a 
fruit. Double You See. 

in. My first should be my second, 

and does belong to my whole. 

Geo. T. McKinney. 

112. Half of a fruit and half of a 
vessel make a young lady. 

S. Harp. 

113. My first is a cake, my second 
an order, and my whole is a 
vessel. Cis. 



114. i I CY. 



H. A. D. 



115. Write the following with only 
two figures : 

51160250250900. 




Aunt Sue. 

Answers must reach me before the 8//z of May. Those received 
later will not be credited. 

fS^ Send all communications intended for the, PUZZLE DRAWER to 
"Aunt Sue," Box in, P. O., Brooklyn, N. Y. 



162 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[April, 



ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE 
FEBRUARY NUMBER. 

31. Phonography, or short-hand- 
writing. 

32. Detroit, Michigan. 

33. Andover. 

34. Greenwood. 

35. New York. 

36. Buffalo. 

37. Work, play, bounce, rent, fish, 
tie. 

38. Pond Lily. 

39. Tulips. 

40. Snow-drop. 

41. Lady's Slipper. 

42. Stone : (i) toe ; (2) ten, one ; 

(3) tone ; (4) sent ; (5) so ; (6) 
sat ; (7) son ; (8) set ; (9) not ; 
(10) no ; (i i) note ; (12) nose ; 
(13) ton; (14) nest; (15) to; 
(16) net ; (17) onset; (18) on. 

43. Gastronomy, astronomy. 

44. Colt, lot. 

45. Horse, rose. 

46. Medin, dime ; (" temin, mite," 

credited). 

47. Pitiless. 

48. Caterpillar. 

49. Pumpkin. 

50. Exitable (Xl-table). 

51. Fore-paws. 

52. Dixie. 

53. Tenon. 

54. Coriander. 

55. Snowing. 

56. Ecclesiastes. . 



57. Of two evils, choose the less., 

58. He walked back and forth (or 
to and fro). It did not seem to 
occur to many of the cousins, 
that the man was not likely to 

" backward!" 



59- I aspire to be independent of 
the world. 

Of the above puzzles, 

Snarlie answers all but 44, 46. 
F. R. S. answers all but 31, 50, 58. 
Max answers all but 46, 50, 58. 
Belle answers all but 31, 43, 46. 
Daisy answers all but 46, 53, 58. 

Florian answers all but 31, 43, 44, 
46. 

Jennie M. answers all but 43, 46, 

50, 59- 
Ixia answers all but 46, 50, 51, 59. 

Forest Rose and Laurel answer all 
but 31, 41,46, 49, 5- 

Keystone answers all but 37, 41, 50, 
53, 58. 

Robbie Eddows answers all but 31, 
43, 44, 46, 59. 

C. IV. y. answers all but 37, 40, 44, 
46, 49. 

Hero answers all but 31, 43, 50, 52, 
53- 

Northern Light answers all but 31, 
37, 41, 46, 49, 50, 52, 53. 

Gilbert answers all but 33, 43, 44, 
46,5i,52,53,58,59- 

Willie answers all but 31, 37, 41, 
44,46,48, 51, 52, 53,58. 

Freddie answers all but 31, 33, 35, 

36, 37, 43, 44, 46, 48, 52, 53, 59- 

Meteor answers all but 37, 43, 44, 
46,49, 5, 5i, 52, 53,54.56,58. 



1868.] 



AUNT SUE S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



I6 3 



Cicero answers all but 31, 33, 37, 
43,46, 49, 50, 51, 50, 53, 56, 
58, 59- 

Myron answers 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 
37, 33, 39, 42, 45, 47, 55, 57, 59- 

y\ ^. C. answers 32, 34, 35, 36, 38, 
39, 40, 41, 42, 57, 59. 

0w answers 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 38, 
39, 40. 

Carrie Hoof answers 32, 39, 40, 41, 

57, 59- 
Millard F. Richards answers 36. 

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 

Keystone. One of your verbs was 
spelled incorrectly. 

Freddie. ' You have made a very 
good beginning. 

Meteor. You are very welcome. 
Do you have thunder-storms in 
February ? 

Carrie Hoof answers No. 39 with 
"Sweet William." I credit the 
answer, and give the Sweet Wil- 
liams, in her neighborhood, notice. 

Myron. I am always glad to 
welcome back again the dear old 
correspondents. 

Pertine. Many thanks for your 
kind letter and invitation. 

Cicero. Certainly, you have the 
" right." 



Snarlit. I have sometimes won- 
dered why we did not hear from 
you ; but I see now, that you do 
not care to send answers, unless 
you have the whole list. Your an- 
swers to 44 (" Sea-horse ashore"), 
and 46 (" Pistareen piastre"), were 
very good ; but there are certain 
rules in puzzles, to which we have 
to conform. " Behead " means 
take one letter from the commence- 
ment ; " curtail," one letter from the 
end of a word. 

Ixia. Did you receive your gold 
pen safely ? 

Hero. The record of your occu- 
pation on the 4th of March, was a 
pretty good one ; " breaking road " 
for sleighs in the morning, candy 
frolic in the afternoon (I should 
like to have had a taste of that per- 
formance), and solving puzzles in 
the evening. 

A goodly list of answers from 
" Bridgewater " has no signature. 

The number of verbs sent in an- 
swer to Puzzle 37 was quite amus- 
ing. Many lists lacked the requi- 
site letters to make all the words, 
and, of course, were faulty. 

Thanks for enigmas, etc., to 
Keystone, F. R. S., Hero, Auntie, 
Lou, Max, Belle, Florian, Jennie 
M., Northern Light, and Millard F. 
Richards. 




164 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. [April, 




FINDING that a good deal of dis- 
appointment is felt by some of our 
readers at the discontinuance of 
the correspondence, we have de- 
cided to set apart a few extra pages 
for such letters as are printable. 

The "Chatter-Box " will be devoted 
to the chatterers, with the hope that, 
in return for this accommodation, 
they will make their letters not only 
lively, but sensible, remembering 
that .such correspondences may be 
both instructive and agreeable, and 
that a magazine is not the place for 
trivial gossip or personal commu- 
nications. 

A selection from such letters as 
we have on hand has been made 
for the April number, and the best 
of those sent hereafter will find a 
place in the new " Chatter-Box." 



DEAR MERRY'S, 

My beloved cousins, 

If I am permitted to come, 
And find by your merry fireside 

A welcome, and plenty of room 
Oh ! give me a kindly greeting, 

From your merry hearts and true, 
And the same good feelings for me 

That I shall give to you. 

I hear in my dreams sweet singing 

Of your charming " Nightingale," 
The ripple of Laughing Water " 

Doth my spirits oft regale, 
The notes of the " Silver Bugle " 

Bring thoughts of the sweetest 

kind, 

The songs of this pleasant dream- 
land 

Oft steals o'er my waking mind. 

And when I sleep not, I'm dream- 
ing 

Of wand'ring in " Forests " cool, 
And plucking the modest " Violet " 
That grows by the limpid pool. 

I turn ; and lo ! just before me, 

Are a pair of " roguish " eyes, 
And "Kate," with an honest 
greeting, 

Comes forward in glad surprise. 
" Oddity " joins in the laughter, 

" Jolly jingling," free and clear. 
Lo, the depths of the grand old 
forest 

Is glad with the Merry's cheer. 



i868.] 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



165 



'Neath a cloud of circling smoke- 
wreaths 

Just borne by the breezes away, 
Lo ! " W. A. R." smiles, smoking 

His pipe of peace today. 
" Bitter-Sweet " is an artful Merry, 

But wiser than many the rest ; 
At first, he is bitter, distasteful, 

But leaves for the last the best. 
I should know, by glancing at 

/< Sigma," 

He is merry, but manly and true ; 
And "Euclid," if you'll be my 

cousin, 

I'll be a cousin to you. 
There's a shout among the merry 

cousins ! 
'Neath the boughs of a " Linden " 

tree 

Standeth the form of a maiden, 
And her name is " Liberty." 

Slowly the evening shadows steal 

Over the earth and sky, 
I dream of our dance, while the 
moon 

Sits queen of the summer sky. 
Our music is rippling waters and 

Crickets and night-bird's song ; 
Our lights are lit by the glow- 
worms, 

In the emerald branches hung ; 
The flash of the fiery " Comet," 

And the darting " Shooting Star," 
Light with a flash our earthland 

From their home in the heavens 
afar. 

Do you ever have dreams, my 

cousins ? 

And when they are pleasing to you, 
Do you ask, as the little maiden did, 
That your "dreams might all 
come true ?" 

If wishing could bring but a kind 

thought 
From the depths of your hearts 

for me, 

So I knew you welcomed the stran- 
ger 

In truth and sincerity ; 
And Aunt Sue was my aunt, and 

" Merry " 

Was my Uncle Merry, too, 
I would sign myself " Yours, mer- 
rily," 
And ever be true to you. 



I am composed of 8 letters : 

My 4, 2, 7, i, 4 is an article of 
food. 

My 8, 6, i, 4 is what often brings 
gpod news. 

My 3' 7> 5> 4 i s Young America. 

My whole is my Merry name. 

DEAR MERRY'S, Shall I tell 
you of the great snow-storm of the 
season, as experienced in the coun- 
try ? Doubtless most of you have 
felt it, but not, perhaps, as I have. 

When I arose on Monday morn- 
ing, the snow was falling thick and 
fast, accompanied by a gale of wind. 
I made my way to the barn with 
some difficulty, and found things 
snowed under. No one passed all 
day, except (God pity him) a crazy 
man, called " The Old Traveller " 
by some, " Happy-go-lucky " by 
himself. He will not speak to any 
one, or accept aught but a crust of 
bread. He sleeps in barns. But 
passing over the storm proper, let 
me speak of the next morning. In 
front of the house, the walk was 
inundated to the depth of four and 
a half feet. Other drifts, larger and 
smaller, were to be seen in all direc- 
tions. Promptly we did battle with 
the mementos of "Boreas. Sud- 
denly, we heard a shout, and saw an 
ox-sled coming toward us, engaged 
(that is, the sled, oxen, and riders) 
in " breaking road." We instantly 
joined the party, and were soon dig- 
ging in drifts over one's head. Oh ! 
it is glorious, this working in the 
snow! The exercise the plung- 
ing, the bandyings of the men, the 
sudden pitching head-first into the 
snow when the oxen stop suddenly 
is glorious, at least to a boy, and 
that is my profession. There was 
plenty of work, too, for all. But 
scarcely had we finished, when the 
wind again began its work ; and 
tomorrow will doubtless bring more 
labor. Have I been tedious, Uncle 
Robert ? If so, I will try to write a 
shorter letter next time. 

How much the Museum is to me ! 
I think its value is greatly enhanced 
by its improvement. Success to its 



166 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



[April, 



editors and to its contributors, is the 
wish of HERO. 

March 30", 1868. 

We are glad to hear from you, 
" Hero." Your letter reminds us of 
old times, when, 

" Shut in from all the world without, 
We sat the clean-winged hearth 

about ; 

Content to let the North-wind roar, 
In baffled rage, at pane and door. 
While the red logs before us beat 
The frost-line back with tropic heat ; 
And ever, when a louder blast 
Shook beam and rafter as it passed, 
The merrier up its roaring draught 
The great throat of the chimney 

laughed. 

* # * * 

" What matter how the night be- 
haved ? 
What matter how the North-wind 

raved ? 
Blow high, blow low, not all its 

snow 

Could quench our hearth-fire's rud- 
dy glow." WHITTIER. 

How many of the Merry's have 
read Whittier's charming poem, 
"Snow-Bound?" 

PARKVILLE, Miss., 

Feb. 2oth, 1868. 

DEAR UNCLE MERRY, I have 
finished reading your magazine for 
this month. I am always so glad 
when it comes. I love to read the 
letters which the other girls write, 
and I thought I would try tonight 
and see if "l could not write you a 
letter, too. This is my first attempt. 
Fam a little girl, ten years old, a 
Missourian. We had hard times 
here during the war ; the rebels 
were very bad. My father had his 
printing-press thrown into the Mis- 
souri River, and he was driven from 
his home. Our town was robbed 
several times by the guerrillas. On 
the 7th of July, 1864, seventy of 
them came in here by daylight ; 
they shot at my father, but he got 



away from them (God preserved him 
from harm). The guerrillas did look 
so savage, dressed in their red 
shirts with revolvers around their 
waists. They killed a good Union 
man, and wounded a man and his 
wife, in this town. My father, moth- 
er, and myself, with many other 
friends, had to leave our home, 
and camp out on the opposite bank 
of the river in Kansas. I tell you, 
dear Merry's, our hearts did beat 
with joy when we saw the Federal 
soldiers coming into town. One of 
the officers gave me a dollar for a 
present, and I sent it for your good 
magazine in 1862 ; I think I have 
been taking it ever since. And now, 
Urxcle Merry, hoping this, my first 
letter, may be interesting enough 
to publish, I will bid you a kind 
" good night, " as I am getting 
sleepy. Perhaps I will write again 
some day. COUSIN MISSOURI. 

We bid you welcome to the Merry 
Circle, Cousin Missouri. 

BANGOR, ME., Feb. 2&th, 1868. 
DEAR MR. MERRY, I want to 
tell you how delighted some little 
folks away down east are with your 
new " Merry's Museum," and how 
much enjoyment it has afforded them 
during the long winter evenings, 
which I think have never seemed 
quite so long and so cold before as 
during the winter now just passing 
away. The kind mamma who pre- 
sides over the household where I 
am at present staying, remembering 
the happiness which her own child- 
hood found in your delightful stories, 
poems, puzzles, and friendly chats 
of long ago, no sooner saw by the 
papers that you were again in the 
field, at work for the little ones, 
than she said at once, that her chil- 
dren must be introduced to you ; 
and she immediately sent Mr. Ful- 
ler a letter, which soon brought the 
Magazines to our fireside, and very 
attractive and charming do we find 
them in their daisy- wreathed covers, 
which seem to give us bright little 
glimpses of summer every time we 



i868.] 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



167 



look at them, and which seem to 
remind us, that however cold and 
dreary the season now seems, a lit- 
tle more patient waiting, a little 
more cheerful courage, and all the 
greenness, and beauty, and sun- 
shine of June will be about us. 
Beautiful June, when we can wan- 
der out into the green fields and 
woods, plucking the sweet wild 
flowers which a dear Loving Hand 
scatters abroad so bountifully every 
new summer, listening to the glad 
songs of the birds, and drinking in 
fresh life and joy at every step, un- 
til, tired with our rambling, and per- 
haps overcome by heat, we seek the 
refreshing shade of some great ma- 
ple or oak or breezy pine, and quite 
forget ourselves in listening to the 
mysterious whisperings of the wood- 
land neighborhood. 

Yes, courage and cheerfulness 
will carry us safely through almost 
any darkness or dreariness which is 
not of our own creating, and bring 
us out into the clear light beyond. 
And as they will help us to bravely 
bear, if we cannot conquer, the chill- 
ing storms and keen blasts which a 
boisterous March and a changeful 
April may have in store for us, so 
will they prove blessed helpers in 
all the disappointments and stormy 
experiences which life may bring 
to us ; for, you know, 

"A merry heart goes all the day ; 
A sad one tires in a mile." 

And now, dear, good, kind Father 
Merry (your very name has a win- 
some sound), I bid you good-by, 
hoping that all your young readers 
may grow old as gracefully, and 
spend life as usefully, as your hon- 
ored self. AUNT MILLY. 

NORFOLK, March \st., 1868. 
DEAR MERRY'S, Perhaps you 
may remember, that in the February 
number of this Magazine, I promised 
to tell you more about the visit of 
the little Boston boys, Henry and 
Willy Otis, to my dear old State of 
Virginia, and especially about the 
" fat-backing " frolic. 



When it began to grow very warm, 
in the latter part of June, the boys 
asked, one day, " What are these 
lights we see from our chamber- 
window every night, all over the 
creek, for miles ? " 

" They are the lights of the ne- 
groes, mostly, some white fisher- 
men among them, catching fat- 
backs," Mr. Stith said. 

" Fat-backs ? what are they ? " 
the boys asked, with wide-open eyes 
and curious air. 

" A kind of fish we have here in 
the South," the gentleman answer- 
ed ; " and, by the way, as we have 
little dew now, and as the thing 
will be altogether a novelty to you, 
I'll let Uncle Mingb take you along 
in his canoe tonight and show you 
the fun." 

The boys were full of it. They 
were to go, in the afternoon, in the 
woods and fields with their sister 
and two little girl-cousins, to get 
wild-flowers. Indeed, the morning 
was to be gaily spent too, where 
they could ride on the great thresh- 
ing-machine, getting out wheat, 
but no matter what came, the frolic 
Mr. Stith had promised them was 
better than all, as they thought of it. 

In the after-dinner walk, they 
gathered garlands for the girls of 
beautiful scarlet Virginia Creeper, 
which winds in the trees and hangs 
its red trumpet-flowers to shake like 
little bells in the breeze. 

Well, there are lots of lovely blos- 
soms in our Southern woods, and 
the children went home full-handed. 

Mrs. Stith had tea ready by the 
time they got back, and the children 
took their fresh milk and corn 
cookies out on the front porch. 

Pretty soon after dusk, Uncle 
Mingo came laughing (he was fond 
of children), his paddle in his hand, 
and told the young masters to 
come along that his canoe lay 
at the shore that there was no 
moon, and they'd have a nice time, 
he reckoned. 

All down the creek, two or three 
miles, sure enough, were the little 
canoes, with their lights, knots of 



1 68 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



[April. 



pine-wood, set on fire at one end 
and placed in the head of the boat. 
This light seems to attract the fish in 
the first instance, as the candle does 
the moth; then it blinds then it 
is the poor fellow's bane, at last. 
He jumps and jumps, not knowing 
where he is going, until finally, the 
fisherman's boat is laden almost to 
the water's edge, and he comes pad- 
dling home. Some few of the fish 
jump out into the water again, but 
this is by chance, and the fisherman 
has little to do except to throw an 
old sail, or, maybe, set a basket 
upon the heap. 

It is really a pretty sight, though, 
to see these queer-looking lamps 
burning in the water, as it were, 
and, if you are near enough, the sil- 
very-looking fish fluttering up by 
hundreds around them. Some call 
them jumping-mullets, but I prefer 
the old name I used to hear when 
I was a child. Willy and Henry 
wanted to ask a great many ques- 
tions when they set out, but Uncle 
Mingo whispered they must keep 
quiet, or talk very low, or they would 
" skeer " the fish away. Everything 
around was silent, indeed, except 
the sound of distant voices, talk- 
ing and laughing on shore, and now 
and then the subdued note of some 
quaint old Methodist hymn, sung in 
soothing tones by the old darkee 

Eroprietor of one of the little craft 
ir down toward the Broadwater, it 
might be. 

Uncle Mingo's canoe, " The 
Fiddler," as he called it after the 
queer-looking small crabs that run 
along the sea-shore sand when the 
tide is low, hauled up at the foot 
of the garden at about ten o'clock, 
with dozens and dozens of nice, 
fresh fat-backs to fry for breakfast. 
The embargo had been taken off 
the little boys' lips, though, long 
before ; and they had been shout- 
ing, laughing, and singing, and list- 
ening to Uncle Mingo's stories until 
they thought they should never feel 
like going to bed and asleep again. 
" Can we go with you every night, 
all summer long, Uncle Mingo ? " 



they asked, (they had learned to 
say Uncle Mingo, too, from the 
little Southern children, their cous- 
ins). " About August, or last of 
July," Uncle Mingo said, " they get 
so fat and heavy, we don't catch 'em 
this way, you may go down with 
me to Whale Pint, here, though, 
and see 'em hauled in the seine. 
Now, they aint hardly long as my 
hand, you see ; and they can cut 
capers till you can't rest." 

My next letter will be about the 
" Great Dismal," which, to see writ- 
ten, looks as if it must be a dreary 
thing to come out of Merry's Mu- 
seum, it won't be, though, any 
more than the tales about the great 
Ogres and the Fairy Queen. 

FANNY FIELDING. 

y. O. DeF. Thanks for your 
kind words and suggestion. 

L. A. S. " Collector's notices " 
are not served on those who pay 
up, as you have always. 

Blue Bird. It is too late for your 
Christmas letter. We cannot tell 
you where you can find that maga- 
zine ; its publication has been sus- 
pended. 

K. E. P. Certainly. Any num- 
ber lost by " Uncle Sam " will be 
supplied by the Publisher. If any 
of the Merry's fail to receive the 
Magazine regularly, we hope they 
will notify us. We trust that you 
will be pleased with our new " Chat- 
ter-Box." 

F. L, writes: " The Chat was the 
best part of the Museum to me, but 
I must admit that the reading mat- 
ter of the Magazine is much better 
and much more interesting than for- 
merly. You have improved the book 
much, and I could but be fully sat- 
sfied ; only, we have no Chat." We 
hope the Cousins will make our new 

hat more interesting than for- 
merly, if possible. 

Number Two of " Uncle Robert's 
Letters " was received too late for 
this month. 




VOL. I.] 



MAY, 1868. 



[NO. 5. 



WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 




"It is 



ii. 

| ELL about the ants, grandma. I've looked into a bee- 
hive, and seen the busy folks at work ; but I never saw 
the inside of an ant's house," said Polly, as Will lay 
down again. 

a city, my dear, full of little houses, or cells, streets, 
bridges, galleries, and gates, built of earth, rushes, grass, and tiny 
twigs, in the most wonderful manner. There are many roads lead- . 
ing up to the air, and on fine days, the gates stand open ; at night, 
the sentinels shut them, also in rainy weather ; and so keep all safe 
and snug. In the lower rooms, they keep their young when it is 
cold j but whenever the sun shines, the faithful nurses carry the 
ant-babies up to the warm, light rooms above, just' as our babies are 
taken out in sunny weather." 
" Really ? " cried Will. 

" Yes, really ; and many other things do these interesting crea- 
tures do very like us. The mother-ant has pretty gauze wings at 
first, and flies about in the open air very gaily for a time. But 
when the little ones are born, she pulls off her fine wings, stays 
at home, and takes care of her family, like a wise and faithful 
mother. She can't take all the care, because she often has several 
thousand children ; so, a great many nurses are needed ; and Mrs. 
Ant is more fortunate than we often are in getting good ones. So 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by H. B. FULLER, In the Clerk's 
Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



I7<D WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. [May, 

devoted are the attendants, that they guard the eggs, from the time 
they are laid till the perfect ant flies away. They put the eggs in 
heaps in the cells, moving them to warm or cool places, as they 
think best, and often brood over them in damp weather. When 
the little grubs are hatched, they feed, wash, and tend them care- 
fully. Not a very easy task, you may see, to take care of four or 
five thousand babies at once." 

" I hope they don't all cry at once," said Will. " Wouldn't there 
be a racket, if they did ? " 

" No ; they are good babies, and don't worry ; because their 
nurses give them simple food, plenty of exercise, and don't spoil 
them as we spoil our babies," answered grandma, shaking her head, 
for she thought the old ways best. 

" What do they eat and do ? " asked Polly, forgetting to read, in 
her interest in the ant-lings. 

" The nurses feed them, at first, with a sweetish fluid from their 
own bodies, and afterward with various things, putting the food 
into the little mouths, as birds feed their young. If any one dis- 
turbs the nests, these devoted nurses think only of saving the 
young, and may be seen running away with the tiny white eggs, or 
grubs, in their mouths. I read of a faithful nurse who got cut in 
two during some accident which happened to the nest ; and so 
bent on saving her little charges was she, that the half of the body 
on which the head remained actually carried ten eggs to a place 
of safety before it died." . 

" Well, that ant was a regular brick ! " cried Will. " You don't 
like slang, grandma ; but I must say * brick ' this once, for no other 
word is good enough for that plucky little nurse." 

" I hope Betsy would do as much for us, if our house tumbled 
down," began Polly, soberly ; but went off into a giggle, at the idea 
of old Betsy's head trotting away with the baby. 

" Let me tell you one more thing about the nurseries, and then 
we will go on to the battles and language and games of our friends," 
said grandma, watching the two attentive faces before her with the 
kind old eyes that twinkled behind her glasses. " After a while, 
the grubs spin themselves into cocoons, and stay there till they are 
perfect ants. When it is time for them to come out of their yellow 
cradles, the nurses help unfold the silken covers, as mamma undoes 
baby from his blankets, and take the young ones up from their long 
naps. They wash and brush them, spread their wings, lead them 
through the winding streets, as if teaching them to walk ; and when 



1 8 68.] WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 171 

they are strong enough, the nurses follow them to the plants out- 
side, feed them for the last time, kiss, and say good-by. And as the 
young ones fly away, the faithful creatures linger, as if they found it 
hard to part from the nurselings they have loved so well." 

Polly's crying ! " said Will. 

" No I ain't," returned Polly, winking more than was necessary ; 
for she was rather touched by the tenderness of the little creatures 
whom she had never known, or cared to know, till now. 

" I shan't walk on ant-hills any more," she said, with a small 
sniff. 

Will said nothing, but lay leaning over the busy workers in the 
grass, thinking of the happy little homes below, and privately de- 
termining that he never would disturb his small neighbors again. 

" I forgot to tell you," continued grandma, " that there were three 
sorts of ants, the males, the females, and the neuters. The first 
two are kings and queens, and live in state ; the others are the 
workers and soldiers. The first have no wings ; but the workers 
have strong legs and feelers, for building, pulling, and running 
errands. The soldiers have large, sharp jaws for biting, and stings, 
also ; beside little poison-bags, from which they throw a venomous 
fluid when attacked. Each sort do their parts, and all goes 
smoothly. The fathers soon die, or fly away ; the mothers lay the 
eggs, and oversee the housekeeping ; the workers take care of the 
babies, build, find food, and wait on the queen ; while the soldiers 
guard the gates, defend the city, and march out to fight the neigh- 
boring tribes when wars occur." 

" Tell about the battles. I like that part," said Will, like a true 
boy. 

" They are very brave ; for these little fellows will attack ants 
much larger than themselves, and fight gallantly, till they win or 
die. When they once take hold, they will be torn limb from limb 
before they let go ; and after a battle, the victors may be seen 
with their enemies' heads fastened to their feelers, or legs, for they 
can't get them off ; and, proud as they may be of them, they must 
be very inconvenient. To these brave and bustling mites, a foot 
of ground is a territory worth fighting for ; the body of a beetle, a 
cargo of straws, or a drop of honey, are possessions of great value. 
The males and females don't fight; but the neuters have great 
battles with their neighbors, and sometimes with each other. Idle 
ants are driven out of the city, and have their heads cut off before 
the people, as a warning. But the famous battles are between 



172 WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. [May, 

different communities of the same species. Rival cities, like the 
Rome and Carthage you read of, Will, send out their armies to settle 
some dispute ; and one may see them meet half-way on a battle-field 
of two or three feet square. Led by their generals, some seize each 
other in their powerful jaws ; some make prisoners, who are after- 
ward used as slaves in the cities of their enemies ; others, joined 
together by legs or jaws, in long strings, pull and drag in opposite 
directions, till one side gets stronger than the other, when the 
chain breaks, and all fight again, two and two. These battles last 
for days, and at night, each army retires to its own city, only to 
march out again with fresh courage in the morning. So they keep 
it up, till one side yields, or a rain quenches the feud, when they go 
home, and forget all about the quarrel." 

" I'd like to see an ant-battle, if it was a good lively one, and the 
generals didn't get the men into scrapes," said Will, who sometimes 
read the newspapers. 

"I pity the poor ant-slaves, and hope they got away after a 
while," added Polly, who had given a dollar to the Freedmen's Aid 
Society. 

" British and American ants don't make slaves, the books say, 
and I am glad of it," replied grandma. " One curious thing I must 
tell you ; and that is, that the ants not only have slaves, but cows, 
or rather another species of insect, from which the ants get a sweet 
fluid, of which they are very fond. I don't know whether all ants 
do this ; but Huber tells us that some ants haunt the trees where 
the aphides go to get sweet sap, and as fast as the little tubes on 
the bodies of the aphides are full of honey, the ants draw it out, 
and carry it home for their young, as we do milk." 

" Well, that's the funniest thing I've heard yet. Cows, with 
wings ; and ants going a milking, up trees ! " Will lay back in the 
grass, and shouted ; and Polly's eyes were rounder than ever with 
wonders at the discoveries she was making. 

" Laugh away, my dear, but it is true ; and ants often have their 
own cows, and guard them, and build walls round them, as we fence 
in our pastures. Certain beetles are kept by German ants, who 
have droves of these yellow cattle, and take good care of them," 
added grandma. 

" It sounds like a fairy story," said Polly, with a long breath. 
" Do the ants talk, and have schools, and do everything else, as we 
do ? " 

" Not everything, as we do ; but they talk somewhat as the deaf 



l868.] THE LITTLE CAPTIVES. 173 

and dumb do, with their feelers or hands. Careful observers say, 
that when the ants want to warn others, they run and strike sharply 
against them. If one finds something good to eat, it hurries to the 
others, and waves its antennas, as if to say, ' Come, and taste it.' 
If the military ants wish to give the order to march, they touch each 
other on the trunk and forehead. In a fight, if two friends mistake 
and attack one another, they soon beg pardon by caressing each 
other. When the queen walks through the city, her people show 
their joy by tapping her lightly, dancing on their hind-legs before 
her, and carrying her on their feelers ; and when two meet, after 
being long parted, they seem to shake hands, kiss, and embrace 
most affectionately." 

" Little dears ! '' exclaimed Polly ; and down she went, to watch 
the small people, some of whom had climbed up the tall grass- 
blades, as if to listen, and be sure that grandma made no mistakes 
in telling their history. L. M. ALCOTT. 



THE LITTLE CAPTIVES. 

THERE came a little humming-bird, 

Upon a summer's day, 
Buzzing about some leaves and flowers 

That on the table lay. 

A lovely, tiny humming-bird, 

Scarce bigger than a bee j 
I put a wine-glass over him 

My prisoner was he. 

Small space was there for fluttering wings, 
Gay, golden wings, and green ; 

And leaves and flowers lose their charm 
Through prison-window seen. 


Poor, pretty little humming-bird, 

He did not like to stay ; 
And so, I lifted up the glass, 
And let him fly away. 



174 THE LOGGERS; OR, [May, 

On tiptoe, once, a little maid, 

With dimpled cheeks and chin, 
Stood peeping through our garden-gate ; 

I ran to let her in. 

I led her round among the flowers, 

Where all the prettiest grew ; 
I made for her a nosegay fine, 

But ah ! it would not do. 

Her heart was full ; her tender lip 

Just trembled to a pout ; 
She thought the wall, for good and all, 

Had closed her round about. 

Poor, little bashful Margaret ! 

She hung her lovely head, 
And gave the flowers a sidelong look ; 

But not a word she said. 

Wee Maggie ! Like the humming-bird, 

She did not like to stay ; 
And so, the gate I opened it, 

And Maggie ran away. 

MRS. A. M. WELLS. 



THE LOGGERS; OR, SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS 

OF MAINE. 

(Continued from the April Number!) 

MONUMENT BROOK, April i^th. 

|ACK again at the old camp, ready to be initiated into 
all the mysteries of "Log Driving." A great part of 
the way up, we had to walk, the roads through the woods 
at this season being horrible. The men were very 
cheerful, singing along, and showing great determination in over- 
coming difficulties. The streams are high ; and more than once, 




l868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 175 

the men caught me up, and carried me over on their shoulders. 
The ground is soft and spongy in the woods, displaying a variety 
of beautiful mosses, that would make our sisters' eyes sparkle. I 
was enjoying and examining some, and the promise of early May 
flowers, when our best dog set up a hideous howl. Poor fellow ! 
he had attacked a porcupine, and filled his nose with quills. 
" You've put yourfut in it," said Pat, as he ran after the suffering 
animal. " Your nose, you mean," I said, as I hunted up a pair of 
tweezers. "Hold the rascal, an' I'll pull them out." While I 
performed the surgical operation, some of the men amused them- 
selves killing the ungainly animal. He was an unusually large 
one ; and when attacked, ran up the trunk of a large pine, to be 
brought down at last by a ball. There he lies an ungainly 
mass of ugliness only stripped of a few quills, which I have 
saved for you. 

The " Parson " met us with a very pleasant smile. Although 
not afraid to stay alone, he is not hermit enough to prefer it. 
There is something about this man that attracts me strongly : 
whether it be his purity and kindness, or pity for his great trials, I 
hardly know. 

My uncle tells me he lost his wife, and all three children, within 
six weeks, suffering much himself from the same distemper. For 
a time, he seemed deranged ; but finally awoke from his melancholy, 
and went about, preaching in the backwoods settlements. After- 
ward, he settled down into a good woodsman, honest, and a capital 
worker. 

The absence of snow changes the appearance of things greatly. 
Stumps of the trees that had been cut, on a level with the snow, 
now stood out in every direction, like grim, dwarfed ghosts. 

Tomorrow, the driving commences. Already, the logs in the 
stream are afloat. Those left upon the river-banks are to be 
rolled in ; and then all are to be safely guided over the rocks, and 
away from the shores, until they reach the lake. 

The Parson tells us that bears are not far off ; he is certain they 
have been smelling around the provision camp already. Won't we 
have sport ? Come on, Mr. Bruin ! we shall be happy to see you ! 
The men are busy, setting traps and making pits, feeling sure he 
will come back again, having scented the provender. 

Irish Jim says " he has kept a long Lint intirely ; an' that meal- 
chist is his Easter" Poor Jim ! the men laugh at him continually, 
for deserting camp ; but he takes it all good-humoredly, saying, 



176 THE LOGGERS; OR, [May, 

" The Jamaky was too strong for me. It beckoned me down the 
river, an' I made great frins wid it, for a few days ; an' thin shook 
hans wid the same, an' said, ' Good-day, Mr. Rum ' foriver an' 
foriver. An' thin I jined the Timp'rance, an' come away to the wil- 
derness so not to smell that same ! " 

Bravo for Jim ! 

i6th. The Parson and I have just been to the head of the brook 
to see the "monument." I was hardly prepared for so fine an 
affair. A width of four rods is completely, and smoothly cleared, 
from the head of the brook, quite through the " disputed territory," 
which is almost wholly an unbroken wilderness. Iron pillars, or 
monuments, are set at regular intervals, until the line strikes the 
River St. John which then becomes the boundary between the 
two countries. 

The monument we examined was large and handsome, and so 
securely laid in a granite base, as almost to defy time ; or, at least, 
make it many years before " John Bull " and " Uncle Sam " could 
quarrel about this boundary. The top of the monument is sur- 
mounted on one side by the American Eagle on the other by the 
British Lion. The names of " Webster " and " Ashburton " are 
there, and the date of the ratification of the treaty. 

The Parson tells me, he remembers, that about twenty-seven 
years ago, there were British soldiers stationed at St. Stephen, and 
American soldiers at Calais, to protect their rights ; and very little 
they knew about them. The treaty was made at that time ; the 
line being the St. Croix River, up through the east branch, and 
lakes through Monument Brook ; and then due north, until it 
strikes the St. John. 

The great Aroostook farming country lies west of the monu- 
mental line ; and, it is said, will remunerate the farmer for his toil 
as fully as any land in our country, hardly excepting the western 
prairie. Bangor, Calais, and St. Stephen are at present the depots 
for produce, a railroad now running from the latter place to 
Houlton. 

I7//&. Some of the meal was left out last night, a-nd this morn- 
ing it was gone, and distinct bear tracks, very large ones, the 
men say. Won't we have fun ? 

i8//$. I have seen him ; and I tell you, he loomed up grandly, 
in the bright moonlight, with his very black, shaggy coat. After 
eating all the meal that had been scattered about, he made some 
efforts to get into the provision camp ; but not succeeding, he 



l86S.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 177 

walked off, growling. All are sure he will get into the pit-fall, 
and can hardly wait for morning. 

19^. Glorious ! The bear was caught, and I shot him. 

All wanted to do it ; but finally concluded to let me try my hand, 
evidently thinking the " schoolmaster " would fail (you and I 
have practiced a little at target-shooting), and I sent the ball into 
the right spot and bruin fell ! 

The men are carefully skinning him ; and I am determined to 
. send the skin down, and have it stuffed, for our managery, to set 
by the side of the moose. 

The meat looks like pork, and is said to be just as nice. It 
seems strange to me, the fellow could retain so much flesh after 
fasting all winter. I really think there's oil enough in the creature 
to shine up every head in New England. 

May ist. The logs are all down to the lakft now, waiting for the 
ice to break up before they are rafted. So far, we have returned 
each night to our old camp, as the weather is chilly. We have 
plenty of skiffs, and could be more comfortable there. Tomor- 
row, we move down, and bid good-by to the old " home on the 
brook ; " sleeping on the bank, under skiffs, and almost anywhere, 
until we get upon the raft. In pushing and managing the logs, 
the men use pick-poles and " peaveys ; " the last of which are curi- 
ously contrived to hold the log, as well as send it forward, and is 
an invention much admired by the lumbermen. 

It surprises me to observe the dexterity of the men with the logs 
here, there, and everywhere ; about them, on them, and some- 
times under them ; seldom falling in, but apparently caring as 
little for the water, as though it were their native element. They 
wear thick, high boots, with long brads in the heels, which prevent 
their slipping, and clothe themselves wholly in flannel, excepting 
the coarse, homespun pants. Before five in the morning, all are 
astir, taking breakfast of anything " that is handy," wedges of 
bread, and apple-sauce, doughnuts, gingerbread, or hard bread. 

At nine o'clock, the cook has a nice hearty breakfast, and the 
men eat, as only men can eat who labor in the open air. At mid- 
day, another hearty meal, of meats, fish, pork, with dessert of dough- 
nuts and apple-sauce, is done ample justice to. 

The men work on with great diligence until after sundown, eat 
their supper, and fall asleep on the hemlock boughs, either in 
camp, or on the bank of the river, under a skiff. Such endurance 
would surprise you, with exposure in all kinds of weather. They 



178 THE LOGGERS ; OR, [May, 

tell me that " every one can get used to it who has any kind of a 
constitution. But after all, driving is awful wearing, they are at 
it so many hours in the twenty-four ; and its well they have only 
about three months at such work." 

In driving down rivers or streams, after the first day or two, the 
camping-ground is changed every night. Each day, after dinner, 
the cook takes his light tent (if he has one), provisions, and the 
whole camp apparatus, cooking-tools, etc., and sails down as far 
as he thinks the men will work their way that night. Oftentimes it 
requires two skiffs to take everything along, if the crew is as large 
as ours. Having selected a good spot on the river-bank, he fixes 
his tent, spreads the boughs for the mens' beds, makes his fire, 
and cooks the supper, singing cheerily all the while. 

Perhaps all are not like our cook, who is really a jolly fellow, and 
quite an artist in his line ; never angry, unless some one doubts 
his capacity to cook every dish ever heard of. I really think he 
believes himself perfect in his line ; and if you proposed his making 
" turtle-soup " or " wedding-cake," he would rub his hands, throw 
his head a little to one side, and say, " Yes, yes ; of course, I ken 
cook anything that's fit to put inside a man's stomach. When you 
come to them poisonous jimcracks, that I've hearn tell on, well, 
then, I might fix them, no doubt ; but then agin, I wouldn't ; 
becos, you see, men don't need sich ; an' I'd have too much prin- 
ciple to waste my time on the likes ! " 

Our crew is so large, that several of the men, each night, roll 
themselves in their quilts, and sleep under the shelter of a canoe. 
The weather is chilly and ground damp ; but colds are unknown 
among us. 

Black tea is the only stimulus used, and of that great quantities 
are drunk. A teakettle, smoking hot, is ready at all hours, day 
and night. This primitive manner of moving each day, and 
tenting for the night, has great charms for me, perhaps, from 
the very newness of the thing. Thousands of men live in this 
singular manner for many months. 

Each morning, I am awakened by the sweet, soothing ripple of 
the brook, or the odorous airs through the forest-trees, which, like 
Eolian harps, tone them curiously and wondrously, to please the 
ear of Nature's listeners. The murmuring through the pines is a 
plaintive minor melody, subduing gayety, exciting thought of life's 
realities, and bringing back to us, in long procession, all the dear 
ones, and dear scenes that have passed beyond and away from us. 



l868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 179 

In a grove of hard-wood, the key is sprightly and inspiriting. 
We feel like pressing onward in life's duties, forgetting the things 
that are behind, and exulting in the actual labor and joys of life. 
But come, Frank, and listen for yourself to this wild-wood music. 

Of birds, you are a great admirer, and many specimens here are 
very beautiful. I shall long to take you some ; but if unable, will 
remember their names and peculiar habits. Today, I have seen 
the moose-bird, blue jay, and black-bird, and, better than all, our 
old friends, the robins. How they brought the savor of " home " 
to me, the house, the barn, the dear old orchard, and the swing 
under the trees, where my darling sister and I have spent so 
many happy, happy hours. I can see my mother's sweet face at 
the window and old Betty, in the kitchen-door, examining the 
condition of her churn. I can feel your arm on mine, and we 
are walking by the college-hedge. Heigh-ho ! Am I hoftiesick ? 
or am I dreaming, Frank ? It is not much matter ; but do not 
be surprised, if, the first week in July, I hold you, heart and hand, 
in close grasp. Won't it be delightful ? I almost feel like apos- 
trophizing my friend in the language of Ossian. But, never mind ; 
you know my " feelinks ; " and if I am not eaten by bears, or 
drowned, or "nothing happens" as the old ladies say we 
will make our tongues run much faster and more smoothly than 
I can make my pen. 

May gth. We are now on Grand Lake, which is without a cur- 
rent, and at this late day, one vast expanse of ice. The men say 
it is rotten, and will soon go. They are busy making a large raft, 
upon which we are to live during our journey down the lake. 
This raft is built by securely placing together some thirty or forty 
of the largest logs, crossing them in a contrary direction with other 
logs, and fastening them with iron bolts. On the front of this 
large raft is the windlass, or capstan, for towing, or warping the 
boom ahead. This windlass is made of a large pine, securely 
fastened into the framework of the raft, and four or five feet high, 
but made at the head to work easily. The purchase, or power, is 
gained by driving five, or six, or eight handspikes along near the 
head at regular intervals. To this, the long warp is fastened ; the 
other end being supplied with a small anchor. When all is ready 
for moving, two or three men start off in a boat with the anchor, 
which they throw to the bottom of the lake, as soon as the warp 
is paid out. Then, one or more men take hold of each handspike 
at the windlass, and slowly, but surely, bring the ponderous boom 



i8o 



THE LOGGERS; OR, 



[May, 




ahead. Again and again this is repeated, many times each day, if 
the wind is favorable ; when ahead, all remain quiet. 

Our boom, the men think, contains at least twenty thousand logs, 
or what will make three million feet of timber. The boom is made 
by boring holes in the ends of large logs, and fastening them to- 
gether with chains. This is made large enough to enclose as many 
logs as can well be warped through the lakes, say, ten, fifteen, or 
twenty thousand, seldom more. This boom is securely fastened to 
the raft (which takes the lead), and generally retains a circular 
form. 

The process of building the camp on the raft interests me ex- 
tremely. Uprights are placed at a convenient distance behind the 
windlass, and all nicely covered in with spruce bark. Along the 
centre is a nicely-smoothed " deacon-seat," or table. Nice beds, of 
hemlock, are arranged, as in camp ; cooking utensils hung up, and 
all wears a comfortable look. But where is the cooking to be 



1868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. l8l 

done ? I see an opening in the bark overhead. But one man tells 
me " they go on shore each day to cook ; " another, with a sly 
wink, passes a sprig of green to his comrade near. Never mind. 
I am verdant, but can patiently wait to see. 

15/7*. When I awoke this morning, it was upon a scene of en- 
chantment, as wonderful to me as the strangest in "Arabian 
Nights." Last night, I saw a vast expanse of ice, the whole 
lake seemed solid. This morning, the clear, blue water was spread 
before me, transparent, and almost without a ripple. The east- 
ern view was like burnished gold in the early sunrise. The air 
was soft and balmy, and full of the melody of birds. Had I been 
transplanted to some tropical clime ? The raft was there ; but 
where was the ice ? Not one vestige to be seen ! 

O Frank ! How I did long for you, and every lover of the beau- 
tiful. The gorgeous clouds, the glorious emerald setting to this 
pure gem of the forest, the exquisite beauty and peacefulness of 
the whole scene, stirred my soul to its inmost depths. It was sab- 
bath, and not a man was moving. Quietly as possible I crept from 
my hemlock bed, to a niche in the bank, where, unobserved, I 
could enjoy the whole wonderful scene. The lake is more than 
three miles across ; and yet, the different shades of foliage are dis- 
tinctly seen. The banks are so high, that the lake looks like a 
vast concave mirror. A loon, perched on a jutting rock, a few 
rods away, has a distinct reflection. 

One of our young philosophers has said, " that wonders are not 
confined to localities, but are everywhere where there are eyes to 
see them." What greater marvel, than this sudden change from a 
sea of ice to a glittering expanse of blue water, transparent enough 
to see fishes gliding about the gravelly bottom. 

The loon has flown away, and its half-human cry startled one of 
the sleepers. It is the Parson ; and from my hiding-place, I can, 
unseen, watch his peculiar face, twitching and nervous with emo- 
tion. He, too, is filled with this wondrous beauty, and now breaks 
forth in language ever ready with him. 

" The waters were hid as with a stone, and the face of the deep 
was frozen (Job xxxviii.) ! The voice of the Lord shaketh the 
the wilderness ; the voice of the Lord calls forth the waters ! 
Give unto the Lord the glory due his name ; worship him in the 
beauty of holiness ! " 

How this man interests me ! It may be, the strong contrast to 
men of every-day stamp. I do not think Beecher or Chapin ever 



!82 THE LOGGERS j OR, [May, 

held me more completely enchained, than he sometimes does, with 
his weird, heart-felt utterances. 

The men are all rousing up now, and curiously I will listen to their 
comments. " Be jabers," said Irish Jim, " the Parson is afther 
sayin' his prayers arly, this fine mornin'. Look o' there, will ye ? 
Jest look o' there," pointing to the lake, with a grimace. " Yer 
fine crust, my nice ould jintleman, had to give under, yer see, an' 
now is soaked up entirely. We'll sail on ye, me darlint, an' fish 
from ye for our breakfast. Faith, an' ye held on like a brave 
one ; but now ye'es are clean knocked under." Jim chatted on, 
but most of the men were silent. They had seen the change too 
often to wonder at it in the least. 

" I hardly thought it would go in the night," said Backer, lighting 
his pipe. " I never saw it but once afore, in more'n twenty year ; 
an' it mostly always leaves after a strong blow." 

" Well, you see," said Cook, breaking up dead branches with his 
foot, to cook the breakfast, " you see, yesterday was a scorching 
day, for May ; and its late in the season, now the nights are warm. 
Last year, the ice went the 5th ; the year afore, the loth ; but this 
is a cold spring, upon the whole, until the last couple o' days." 

" Not so cold as one I remember," said another. " About seven 
years ago, I came up with a surveyor, about the last of April, to 
make an estimate of the logs. We left pleasant weather and dry 
roads at Calais. Well, here it was cold as December ; an' it's a 
fact, that on the 2oth of April, there came so much snow, that we 
couldn't survey the logs, until a day or two of sun had melted it off. 
An' then, our surveyor was taken blind from the glitter of the 
snow and ice an' suffered sich awful pain in his eyes, that we 
had to take him home. 

" Another, that came back with me, after the first day, gave out 
in the same way, an' kept in the camp, with his eyes covered. I 
begun to feel most mad ; an', as I could do nothing alone, started 
down, to try to find a man at some of the camps. I was taken snow- 
blind myself ! an' in sich awful distress, that I had to lie down, an' 
cover my eyes with my han'kerchief an' hat. After sunset, I poked 
along an' found a camp, where I laid by a day or two, feeling as 
though hot needles were in my eyes. After a while, I started back, 
with a pair of green goggles on they lent me, and a fellow to help 
me ; an' we did the surveying. But the weather was dull and chilly, 
an' the ice didn't go that year till the 2oth of May." 

" We should all have been snow-blind, if the bright sun and ice 



1868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 183 

had hung on," said Cook ; " an' every man ought to wear them 
' goggle things,' if they do make owls of themselves." 

" I hardly thought it would go in the night," said Sacker, lighting 
his pipe. " I never knew it to but once afore, in the whole of 
twenty years." 

" Yesterday was a scorching day, you see, for May," answered 
Cook, as he broke the dead branches for his fire ; " and last night 
was the warmest I ever knew at this season, as long as I've cooked 
on these waters." 

" The thing that did it so quick," said another, " is the breaking 
of the ice by them fellers down at Haybrook. The wind got 
under, an' soon shook up the old honeycomb above. Chepetnecook 
(the lake next below) is open." 

" How do you know ? " 

" I know, because I heard a loon this morning ; and they never 
come until there is open water. This is most a summer mornftig." 

" Two swallows don't make a summer, mind ye, my boy. Ye'll 
sing another tune before night. Going to have a storm, a right- 
out blow, I reckon." 

" Hold on till I get my sail, won't ye ? " said the youth, laughing. 

" I guess ye'll have to hold on when you get it, for it always blows 
like sixty after the ice starts." 

And so the chat ran on, until breakfast was ready ; while eating 
which, I ventured to inquire how such a body of ice could disap- 
pear so suddenly. I did not fail to observe one youngster touch 
the end of his nose with a sprig of green, just then ; but never 
mind, if I get my answer, and this strange thing is explained. 

" Well, yer see," said Sacker ; " this ice has been eaten an' eaten 
away underneath, like a honeycom' ; it looked strong, but wasn't. 
As soon as the wind could get under, or the water soaked up 
through, why, it is gone, just like the sugar I put in my tea, and 
sometimes almost as quick ; an' without as much settlins." 

" It is a wonderful change," I remarked, " to be brought about 
so quickly and silently." 

" Indeed it is," said a new speaker ; " and perhaps it surprised 
you, as it did me, many years ago. 

" I was hired to come up with a load of provisions ; and other 
teams came too. Well, when we got to this lake, it looked splendid. 
It was much nearer to the camp, to cross over it, than go by the 
road ; an' I should have thought would have borne fifty yoke 
of oxen with loaded teams. But, no ! The forward driver said 



!84 THE LOGGERS. 'foy, 

'No, it wasn't safe.' I remember, I looked at it longingly, it 
seemed so smooth, an' hard, an' shinin', an' then we turned off 
into the rough road. Well, p'r'aps in a half-hour, we got on high 
land, where we had a sight of the lake again ; an', upon my 
word, if there was one particle of ice to be seen ! I looked, an' 
looked, an' looked, not knowing what was to pay, or whether I 
was cracked myself, when the other drivers set up a great shout, 
saying, ' Don't you wish you had gone onto the ice, Bob ? Say, 
don't yer ? The fishes would have had a nice dinner.' There's a 
good many curious things in this world, young man." 

i6t/i. The "blow" did come; and a right heavy one it was, 
too ! Before night, the peaceful, quiet lake of the morning was roll- 
ing in billows, dashing the raft about, and threatening to break the 
"boom," and scatter our cherished logs, the labor of a winter, 
upon the shores. The men say it sometimes takes weeks to gather 
all*" again, and enclose them in a new boom. When the freshet 
was light, they often had to lay over another winter, a great 
injury to the logs, and a still greater one to the capitalist, who 
would be obliged to lay out of the interest of his money so long. 

The boom we are watching contains logs, they tell me, at least 
worth twenty thousand dollars. Of course, it is an object of much 
interest to the whole crew. 

The Parson says, " this is the same lake, the same wind, and the 
same God that moves it. When it is bright and placid, like the 
morning, we think He does right ; but when it is stormy and 
threatening, we have as we should not many doubts." 

17^. The wind has abated somewhat, and our " boom " is safe. 
We are to leave the shore today, and live in the camp upon the 
raft. I have been watching Cook fill old flour-barrels with earth 
and sods ; and now, I see, he is spreading them smoothly, and 
pounding them down on the raft where he is to do his cooking. 

Large logs of wood are put on, and dry branches piled up, ready 
for use. Everything is afloat, provisions, tools, boats, etc., 
and we are ready to commence our homeward voyage. 

I love to work at winding in the warp ; it reminds me of some 
of our gymnastic feats. The five or six men, constantly walking 
around in a circle, make sport and dry speeches, I assure you. 
When the wind is favorable, we move ahead rapidly. Today, the 
men have paid out the anchor several times ; but I think we have 
gained less than three miles. Should the wind blow against us 
tomorrow, as it promises now, we can do nothing but lay by. 




1868.] THE TRIALS OF A LITTLE KING. l8$ 

THE TRIALS OF A LITTLE KING. 

TRANSLATED. 

BELIEVE," said our little Gretchen, "that a king 
dresses in silk and velvet every day. He can eat what 
he likes, he can drive out in pleasant weather, he can 
go to the theatre, and his servants must bring him all 
he asks for." 

" Ah, yes j certainly. Gretchen was right in some things, but 
not in everything. Let our wise Gretchen cast a glance towards a 
king's apartment in the year 1715. 

" Seventeen hundred and fifteen, that is so long ago ! More 
than one hundred and fifty years ; during which many drops of rain 
fell from heaven upon poor mother-earth, and in which many, many 
men, in different countries, wept and smiled. In 1715, a beautiful 
boy, of five years and a few months old, sat in a royal palace, in the 
kingdom of France. The child was robed in purple velvet, because 
he was in mourning for his grandfather, Louis XIV., King of France. 

" The little king, an attractive child, was seated in a magnificent 
apartment that was adorned with rare pictures, superb furniture, 
and splendid carpets. 

" He sat alone, at an elegant little breakfast-table. Every deli- 
cacy that he asked for was there, for they brought him all he 
wanted. No servants were lacking ; for, behind the chair of the 
little five-years' old king, stood two noblemen, who waited for his 
commands. There were also many other persons in waiting, in 
another part of the room. 

" Louis ate all alone a delicate roasted dove, an apricot- 
tart, and drank a glass of wine. He knew how to eat the dove 
politely, but it was tedious and difficult for him to cut everything 
with a knife ; so, he took his little royal fingers to help him. 

"'Where is my napkin?' he cried, when he had finished the 
task; ' They haven't given me any napkin ! ' he continued. ' Quick, 
quick ! I want it ! ' holding his hands up in the air, as if in great 
distress. 

" The two noblemen who stood behind him hastened to bring 
him a napkin, but they disputed to whom belonged the honor of 
handing it to him ; and so they stood, one holding it on one side, 
and one upon the other ; and Louis XV. sat crying with impatience 
and anger, because he had waited so long holding up his hands. 



lS6 THE TRIALS OF A LITTLE KING. [May, 

" A third distinguished lord who was in the room but to 
whom the duty did not belong had compassion on the little king^ 
and brought a napkin to him. 

" Poor, little, gentle king, that was a misery ! 

" 'How tedious it is today in the palace,' said Louis XV., one 
afternoon j ' why cannot I go out where all the other children are 
going ? ' He pointed to a crowd of citizens and of country people, 
gayly dressed, who passed by the palace with their children. 

" ' Where are they going ? ' inquired the king. 

" ' To the fair at St. Germain,' was the answer. 

" ' Then I will go there, too,' said his little majesty. 

"Louis XV. jumped for joy; for he thought of the pleasure of 
passing the lovely day in the open air, and of seeing all the beauti- 
fully-dressed children again. 

"The coach, with four handsome horses, came to the door. 
They lifted the little king into it, and his tutor wished to follow 

him j but the Duke of M prevented it ; for he said that the 

privilege of accompanying the king in his carriage belonged to him 
alone. 

" Then a dispute arose between the two gentlemen, and neither 
would yield. 

" ' But you may both sit near me,' said the king. 

" * Your majesty, that will not be in order/ was the answer. ' The 
court must decide, before we can go.' 

" So, Louis, who had been so childishly delighted with the pros- 
pect of a drive, was obliged to descend from the carriage, for the 
quarrel could not be settled at once. And Louis XV. remained, 
sadly looking out of the window, until night came, seeing the pret- 
tily-dressed children coming home from the fair, bringing drums 
and fifes, and cakes in their hands, while he stood alone by the 
window and wept. 

" The greatest misery of Louis XV., in his youth, was his sep- 
aration from Lord De Fleury. His grief for his beloved friend was 
so intense, that De Fleury was sought for through the whole king- 
dom of France. He returned, and Louis XV. was calm and happy 
again. 

" You ask me, dear Gretchen, where I heard about the trials of 
the little king. I cannot tell you ; but this I know, that little 
kings, and great ones, have much more to bear than you and I have. 
So, be contented with your lot ; and let kings ride in their carriages, 
while you walk on foot" s. w. LANDER. 



l868.] LITTLE PEARL. 187 





LITTLE PEARL. 

CHAPTER III. AN ADVENTURE. 

won't go away and leave you, today, darling," said 
Agnes, the morning after the wedding, as she helped 
Pearl down from the breakfast-table. " Now, you go 
and get Nelly, your doll," she said, " and come with 
Gassy and I under the cherry-tree, in the garden ; and we'll sit 
down there, and dress her all up new, make a new face, and all. 
Would'nt you like that ? " 

" Truly ? " said Pearl, with a look of joy and surprise. " Truly ? 
won't you run away once, Gassy ? " 

" No, we won't," said Gassy ; " we've promised to ourselves we 
wouldn't. If we do go anywhere, you and Bliss shall go with us." 

Now, Pearl did not care much for the privilege of going any- 
where where Agnes and Gassy led the way ; neither did Bliss. 
Both of them had known some very sad times going where they 
went. But Pearl tried to be hopeful, and think the best would 
happen. Perhaps they wouldn't go anywhere ; perhaps they really 
would stay round the house with them all day. At all events, 
" Nelly " was to be dressed up, and made new. 

Once Nelly had been just as pretty and nice as it is possible 
for a rag-baby to be, and Pearl had had it ever since she was 
a baby herself; and she was so fond of it, that she thought she 
could not sleep nights unless she had Nelly in her arms. But 
lately, Bliss had taken a fancy to play with the rag-doll, and do 
what she might, Pearl could not keep it away from him ; and he had 
played with it in such a way, had left it in such strange places, had 
given it so many rides, tied to Jero's tail, that now it was a most 
pitiable-looking little object. It was misshapen and torn, and had 
a very dirty face and a very dirty frock. Indeed, it was dirty all 
over ; and Pearl, who dearly loved what was beautiful and clean, 



!88 LITTLE PEARL. [May, 

could not enjoy playing with the doll, unless it was closely wrapped 
up in her little shawl. 

The prospect of having her " dear Nelly " brought back to her 
old self again was a very pleasant thing to Pearl. And Jero, 
seeming to know that his little mistress was happier than usual, 
that sunny morning, got into a very high frolic himself. He fol- 
lowed them into the garden, barked, jumped up and down, and 
ran in their way ; caught up in his mouth everything they put out 
of their hands, knocked Cassy's hat off of her head, and snapt up 
poor Nelly, and gave her such a shaking, that Pearl was afraid the 
doll would have to be made " new all over ; " and then he ended 
by lying down beside Pearl, and putting his head in her lap, and 
going to sleep. 

They had not been under the cherry-tree but a short time, when, 
looking toward the prairie, they saw Lule coming with the baby, 
and with her, Harry and the two little cousins. 

" Oh, dear ! what did they want to come now for ? " said Gassy. 
" That Marietta will stare with her great round eyes, and say, 
' What-are-you-doing, dressing-that-doll ? Is that your doll ? 
Haven't you got any better doll than that ? ' She is the funniest 
thing I ever saw. She don't do anything but look right at you, in 
that dreadful sober way, and ask questions just as fast as she can. 
I don't think they know very much, if their father is so ' awful rich.' 
Do you ? " 

Before Agnes could answer, Lule and her party had arrived. 

" There ! sit down there, and take care of yourself," were the 
first words from Lule, as she gave the poor baby a toss on the 
ground. " I'm just tired to death, lugging that great heavy young 
one. I should think 'twas big enough to walk itself, if that's all 
that's wanted." 

The baby was a fat, good-natured little thing, and was able to 
bear a great deal of hard treatment ; but the way Lule had been 
carrying it, and the way she put it down on the ground, was too 
much for it to bear, and its lips began to quiver. 

" Oh ! that's a shame ! " they all cried ; and Lule, who, after 
all, was kind-hearted, thought so too, and gave the baby such a 
hard kiss and such a tight hug, that it began to cry in good earnest. 
The noise awoke Jero ; and he, seeing strangers were there, 
hopped up in such a sudden fashion, that the two little cousins 
were frightened almost out of their wits, and began to run as fast 
as they could. 



l868.] LITTLE PEARL. 189 

" Oh, come back, come back ! " cried Gassy, laughing so, she 
could hardly speak. " He won't hurt you a bit. Here Jero, 
Jero ! Make him lie down again, Pearl." 

Pearl had no trouble in doing that ; and the little cousins walked 
calmly back, holding each other's hands. 

" I'm sorry he acted so," said Agnes, rising to receive them, and 
giving them a cushion to sit on ; " but he was only playing. He 
wouldn't have hurt you. He is just as good as he can be." 

" Is he your dog ? " asked Marietta ; and after awhile came the 
volley of questions Cassy had predicted. Then they talked about 
the doll ; and Lule said that Annetty as she called Annette, 
Marietta's sister had a "splendid doll to home." It had "glass 
eyes, and real hair on its head." 

"Oh, that's nothing," said Cassy; "I've seen lots of them. 
Once I had one, and it had long curls way down its back ; and 
could move its eyes all around, and cry, just like a real baby. And 
oh, 'twas dressed lovely. It had a pink-satin dress, all trimmed 
with white lace ; and lovely little red slippers, and gold earrings in 
its ears, and a gold ring on its finger ; and " 

" Why, Cassy Marsh ! " said Agnes, laughing. 

" Well, I did," said Cassy, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 
" And, don't you remember how Bliss smashed it all to pieces ? " 

" There, now," said Lule ; " I thought you were telling a story. 
That's just like you, Miss Fibber. I might have one of that kind." 

" Is she telling a story ? " asked Marietta, looking as if she had 
believed every word. 

" No, I ain't telling a story," said Cassy ; "I'm telling you about 
my doll." 

They sat there together a long time, chatting and working over 
Nelly. Finally, Cassy, unable to keep still any longer, jumped up, 
and said she was " going to the house, to get a luncheon. Per- 
haps I can find something good," she said. " If I do, I'll bring 
you all some." 

" Now, Cassy ; don't you go and get into a fuss with Miss Mug- 
gins," said Agnes. 

" Oh, I don't mind having a fuss when the weather is fine, and I 
can stay out of doors," said Cassy. " She can't get at me, unless 
I'm in the house ; " and off she ran. 

She had been gone but a few moments, when she came run- 
ning back, all out of breath, and with her apron almost full of very 
nice-looking tarts. 



IpO LITTLE PEARL. [May, 

" Oh, I had such a time getting them," she said ; " she come 
pretty near catching me. They were way up on a high shelf ; and 
just as I was getting them down, I heard her coming ; and if I 
didn't jump and run ! O Agnes ! " she went on, " I don't believe 
but she's going somewhere, or somebody's coming to see her. She 
has got on her best gown and that new head-dress." 

" Perhaps her beau is coming," said Lule. 

" I don't believe but he is ; and that is what she made these tarts 
for," said Gassy. " She always gets him something nice to eat 
when he comes. Oh, deary, eat 'em up quick. She'll find out 
about it in a minute." 

" Did you take them all ? " asked Agnes. 

" No ; I guess I left about three ; and that's enough for him, 
isn't it ? " 

Just then they looked up, and saw a carriage coming across the 
prairie. 

" Yes, that's him," said Gassy ; " and there is no danger of a fuss 
now. She is always just as good as can be, when he's here. She'll 
say ' dear] and be just as pleasant. I guess, if he knew how she 
acted, he wouldn't like her very well." 

" He is real good," said Lule. " Marm knows all about him ; 
and she says he is a great deal better than she is. I don't 
believe he'll ever have her ; he'll find out all about her before 
long." 

The carriage passed just then, and a voice called out, 

" Hollo, there ! Why, where did you all come from ? Got com- 
pany, Miss Gassy ? Well, well, a nice lot of you ; one, two 
heyday and a young shaver ! " looking at the baby. And, with 
a great many nods and smiles, " Miss Muggins's beau " drove into 
the yard. 

" Now, watch," said Gassy, " and see her when she comes to the 
door." 

Miss Muggins knew how many little eyes were watching her, and 
how very sharp they were, and she didn't come in sight. 

" I'd like to see how she acts," said Lule, after he had been gone 
in the house a few moments. " Cass, let's go, and look in." 

" She sha'n't do it," said Agnes. " I'd be ashamed, peaking." 

" I ain't going to peak" said Gassy. " I'm going in." 

But she didn't go in. She went up to the piazza, and hid behind 
the rosebush trellis ; while Lule, more bold, climbed up on a great 
tub that was under the side-window, and took a very good view. 



1868.] LITTLE PEARL. IQI 

Too good. The plank that covered the tub slipped, and down she 
tumbled into a lot of old rain-water. 

" Oh, good gracious ! " she cried, thinking of her shoes and 
stockings, for Lule didn't often wear shoes and stockings ; but 
she had them on today, because of her little cousins. 

Miss Muggins, hearing the loud laughter that followed Lule's 
mishap, came to the door. She didn't say anything; but she 
looked a great deal. Her face was pale with anger. 

" Dear me ! " sighed Gassy, thinking of tarts and punishment ; 
" I wish I could go away somewhere, and stay ! " And she began 
to cry and laugh together. 

They all went under the cherry-tree, and sat down again ; and 
soon they saw Miss Muggins come out of the house, with her bon- 
net and shawl on. 

" I'm going to take a little ride with Mr. Brent," she said, to 
Agnes ; " and I want you children to stay round the house here, 
and behave yourselves. I shan't be gone more than an hour, and 
perhaps not so long ; so, you needn't make any fuss about it. Just 
stay here, and behave yourselves ; " and she got into the carriage, 
and went off. And Mr. Brent didn't give any more nods and 
smiles ; only said something about their " not being afraid, and 
he'd bring Miss Muggins back pretty soon." 

" I suppose," said Gassy, " she has been telling him we are awful 
creatures. I'll just tell him that she is an awful creature, the very 
next time he comes here." 

" Well, I'm glad she's gone," said Lule. " I can go into the 
kitchen, now, and dry my shoes and stockings." 

" Yes," said Agnes, laughing ; " take the baby, and let us all go." 

There was a good fire in the kitchen, and Lule hung her stock- 
ings on a chair, and put her precious shoes under the stove ; then 
she got up on the table, and began looking at herself in the glass. 
Now, Lule always did this the first thing, whenever she came to 
the house ; for a looking-glass to her was a very pleasing wonder. 
She never saw one till she came to the prairies, and there was noth- 
ing of the kind at her own home. Mr. Fenwick used to tell his 
girls, " I don't want any such foolery in my house. It's a bad idee, 
gals ; a bad idee, this, seeing your own face every time you turn 
round. Your thoughts follow your eyes, and its human nater to 
give more thoughts to yourself than is right." So Lule, having no 
other chance to see her own bright eyes and blooming cheeks, 
always made the most of it. 



IQ2 LITTLE PEARL. [May, 

" You are about as proud of yourself as Miss Muggins is," said 
Cassy, who had been watching Lule for some time with a good deal 
of interest. " Get down, and let me tell you how she acts. Oh, 
wait ; I'll go in and dress up first ; " and she ran into Miss Muggins's 
room. Shortly, she made her appearance, rigged in Miss Muggins's 
dress, head-dress, and collar ; and there was a great shout of merri- 
ment, even the solemn-looking little cousin laughed. 

" Here, get down, Lule," said Cassy. " I can't be Miss Muggins, 
and not look in the glass." 

But Lule had just began examining her teeth, and didn't heed ; 
and nothing even all of Cassy's mimicking of Miss Muggins 
was able to draw her attention from herself again, until she hap- 
pened to hear one of them ask, " Where in the world the baby 
was ? " It had been creeping round on the floor and was quiet, 
so that they had all forgotten it was there. 

" Sake's alive ! " exclaimed Lule, jumping down in great fright ; 
" where is the young one ? " 

It was not in the room ; it was not on the piazza. ; it was not 
anywhere in sight. 

" Perhaps," said Agnes, " it's out in the barn, with Harry and 
Bliss." 

So they ran to the barn, and there they found the baby, sitting, 
not two feet from where the horse was standing. Bliss was kneel- 
ing beside the baby, holding its head, and squeezing the juice of 
a very sour pickle in its poor little mouth. 

" What are you doing ? " said Agnes, taking hold of Bliss in a 
rough way. 

" Noffin'," answered Bliss j " diving baby squeeze, and seeing 
him mate faces." 

Just as they were going out of the barn, they heard carriage- 
wheels ; and looking, they saw Mr. Brent driving away, and Miss 
Muggins coming up the garden-walk. 

Now Cassy had not yet taken off Miss Muggins's things. She 
still had on the long dress ; and besides that, Miss Muggins's cape 
and old bonnet ; and the bonnet was very large, and tied very 
tight. And when Agnes gave her a push, and told her to run, the 
bonnet slipped over her eyes, the dress got under her feet, and she 
stumbled and fell. Miss Muggins ran and caught her. 

" The good land ! " she cried. " What dido will that plague cut 
up next ? " And the way those things came off of Cassy, and the 
way Miss Muggins took hold of Cassy's ears, and the great shak- 



i868.] 



LITTLE PEARL. 



193 




ing she gave her for taking the tarts, put Gassy into such a wild 
passion, that she laid down on the ground, and kicked and 
screamed. 

" Dear me ! " said Agnes, " it is always just so. Gassy is always 
getting into trouble. It's nothing but a fuss, from morning till 
night. I don't know what I shall do ! " 

" And my shoes and stockings are in the kitchen," said Lule ; 
"and I'm afraid to go after them ; and she'll be so mad, she'll burn 
them up." 

Pearl was almost broken-hearted over Gassy ; and Gassy, seeing 
how badly she felt, stopped her crying after a while, and let her 
bad feelings come out in words. She declared she wasn't sorry a 
bit, not one bit, she said ; and she didn't care if Miss Muggins 
was mad ; and she'd do the same thing over again, when she got 
a chance. 

Soon, laughter drove Agnes's doleful looks away. And Bliss put 



194 



LITTLE PEARL. [May, 



on a brave air, and went in after the shoes and stockings ; and the 
little cousins began to talk again ; and Pearl forgot her griefs, in 
seeing her " dear Nelly done." And they were all as merry, as if 
there were no Miss Muggins in the world. 

" Agnes," said Lule, after they had been sitting still long enough 
to get restless again, " I'll tell you what I've been thinking would 
be a nice thing for us to do, as long as there is such a lot of us 
together go, and find out the end of that old road in the woods." 

" Oh, that would be jolly," said Gassy. And then she began 
telling the little cousins where this road was, and all about it ; how 
pleasant it looked, going straight through the woods, with the grass 
growing up in it, in stripes, and the trees meeting overhead ; " for it 
is an old road," she said, " and nobody ever came that way now. 
There was another road to town, for the people who lived on the 
other side of the woods ; and they had always wanted to know how 
it looked on the other side, and just where that road went to." 
But she didn't tell the reason why they had never found out. She 
did tell what stories they had heard of an old crazy man, who 
wandered round there, and did fearful things sometimes ; and how 
often they had made the attempt to go, and got frightened, and 
run back. And when she asked them if they would like to take the 
walk, the little cousins said "Yes ;" just as they did to everything. 

" How can we go, and take the children ? " asked Agnes. 

" Oh, I'll run home," said Lule, " and get Tad's wood-cart ; and 
we'll put in all, baby and all, and haul 'em." 

So Agnes consented to go ; and Lule, telling them to get ready 
as soon as they could, ran home after the cart. When she came 
back, she brought a great slice of bread and molasses for the 
baby, and a pocketful of apples, and a bag of gingerbread, to 
keep up the courage of the two little cousins. And Agnes got a 
rug and put in the bottom of the cart. And then Pearl got in, and 
took the baby ; and Harry and Bliss, each with a whip and string, 
seated themselves in front, and the others took hold of the rope ; 
and off they started. 

"Now," whispered Cassy to Agnes and Lule, just as they came 
to the opening, " don't let us give up this time ; let us do it, if we 
see forty crazy men." 

And on they went, going farther and farther over the shady, 
grass-grown road, chatting, eating, laughing, and singing; trying 
to make all the noise they could, trying not to see the gloom, try- 
ing not to feel the silence of the lonely woods. Once, hearing the 



1 868.] LITTLE PEARL. IQ5 

crackling of bushes near, they stopped, looked pale and irresolute ; 
but Cassy's " Oh, fiddlesticks ! it's only a turkey ! " spurred them 
on again ; and, before they thought, before they had had time to be 
weary, the sunlight shone brighter in their path, the vista shortened, 
the birds sang louder, and a great field of high, waving grass, 
spread out before them ; and beyond that, oh, wonder of won- 
ders ! a blue, shining river ! 

Now, they knew there was a river somewhere near ; but, as much 
as they had been in the woods, they had never been so far that way 
before ; and most of them had never seen a river. The little cousins, 
I am sure, never, in all their lives, saw anything more than a mud- 
puddle or a pond ; and Marietta couldn't but ask, " Where did all 
that water come from ? " 

" That's Dod's," said Bliss ; he, too, looking with wondering 
eyes. And then he said, " Tassy, do Dod wash him in that ? " 

And Pearl's blue eyes drank in all the beauty, as thirsty flowers 
drink up the dew. 

A long time the children stood there, at the edge of the woods, 
watching, admiring, and not daring to go any farther j till, peeping 
all around, they saw there was no one there, nor any house, except 
far off in the distance, and across the river ; and then Gassy said, 

" Let's go way to the river, and see how it looks close to." 

So they went onward, through the tall grass, each one keeping 
silence. When they got there, they thought they would stop, and 
go down the bank, and pick up some stones, and see what they 
could find on the shore. Just as they were getting their little ones 
out of the cart, a strain of music sounded in their ears, a low, 
sweet strain of music, and turning, they saw, under the bank, 
close to a great spreading tree, a little log-house, and a man stood 
at the door ; and he had something in his hand, that looked very 
strange ; and he wore a coat that was very bright-colored, and he 
had on his head a red cap, with a long tassel. 

" Oh, my soul, my soul alive ! " cried Lule. "The crazy man ! the 
crazy man /" And some ran, and some stood still, with fear; and 
they all screamed. 

" Children, children," called a very pleasant voice. " Don't run ; 
don't be afraid ; I wouldn't hurt you. I only want to see you." 

Now Lule, at the first moment of fright, had caught up the baby, 
and run ; and Agnes and Gassy, in trykig to run with the cart, had 
upset it, and tumbled the rest of the little ones out ; and before they 
could get them in again, the gentleman had got quite near to 
where they were. 



196 LITTLE PEARL. [May, 

He stood still, and told them he wouldn't come any farther, if 
they did not want him to ; but said " he'd like to see them very 
much." And, finally, seeing that his manner was kind, his face 
smiling, the tone of his voice pleasant, they lost their fear ; and he 
came to them. 

" I'm very sorry I frightened you all so much," he said. " I love 
little children ; I wouldn't like to give them pain." And then he 
told them how he lived there, all alone, in that little house, and 
never saw any one all the day long ; and how very glad he was that 
they should happen to come and see him that day ; and how he had 
rather see them, than all the grown-up people in the world. 

And pretty soon, Lule and the two little cousins, seeing how 
things were, came trudging back ; and the gentleman told them, if 
they would all come down to his little house, and rest awhile, he 
would give them a good luncheon, and play some music for them. 

Now, none of them were in very great need of a luncheon, but 
they all had a great desire to see how the little house looked inside ; 
not but that they had seen a log-house before, indeed, Lule and 
I shouldn't be astonished if the little cousins too lived in one. 
But this was very small, quite like a playhouse. 

So they all consented to go ; and the gentleman took the baby in 
his arms, and led the way. 

" Oh, good land ! look at the books and pictures," whispered 
Lule, as they entered the cot. 

And there were a great many books and pictures ; and the room 
being small, it seemed as if there was nothing else, except a large 
table in the centre, covered with sheets of white paper, filled with 
writing. 

As soon as they were all seated, and they had to sit on the 
floor or stand up, the gentleman went to a wooden box, and took 
out a dish of mulberries and a tray of bread, and gave them the 
promised lunch ; and then he sat down himself, and took the baby 
on one knee, and Pearl on the other, and began asking them a 
great many questions, where they lived, and who they were, and 
how they happened to come so far away from home alone, and if 
their mothers knew about it. 

And Bliss said, " his muver lived in heaven, up in the sky j " and 
wanted to know if he wasn't a "sky-man." 

The gentleman laughed a little, in a sad sort of a way, and asked 
Bliss what he meant. 

" He thinks you came up out of the river," said Agnes ; and she 
told him how Bliss had never seen a river before. 



l868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 197 

Just as soon as the gentleman was done asking questions, the 
little cousins commenced, and it was a great wonder to Agnes and 
Gassy, and even to Lule, how they thought of so many things to 
ask about. But the gentleman took it all very pleasantly, and 
seemed quite willing to satisfy their curiosity ; and when they had 
not another word to say, he took up the " funny-looking thing," 
which was a guitar, and played them some very sweet music, 
music that brought tears to Pearl's blue eyes, and a sad, strange 
feeling to some other little hearts there. 

At length, the children said they must go home. And the gen- 
tleman, telling them to be sure and come again, if their mothers 
were willing, went and got the cart himself, and put the younger ones 
all nicely in. And then the little ones, even the baby (and some of 
the big ones too), gave him a kiss ; and he said " Good-by, good- 
by," a great many times. And all the little, wandering feet turned 
homeward. 




MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 

I. BRITAIN, UNDER THE ROMANS. 

[FTEN, in taking a long journey through a large state, 
as you whirl swiftly along from town to hamlet, you 
may notice great stones, set up at regular intervals 
along the road ; and you will be told that these are 
milestones, placed there to mark your progress, mile by mile, 
towards your journey's end. 

Just so, in reading the history of a great country, you will 
always find certain epochs, that seem to stand out prominently, like 
milestones, marking its progress from barbarism to civilization. 

In our rapid passage, from month to v month, through the pages 
of this little magazine, it will be impossible for me to do anything 
more than to point out to you, the prominent events that constitute 
the milestones of English history but I shall be quite satisfied, if 
I can interest you in these, so that you will long to know more of 
the country that lies between them ; and so, at last, will be induced 
to read in detail for yourselves, the history of the great nation 
from which you are descended. 

And, first, you must forget the England of today, with which, 



198 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [May, 

doubtless, many of you are familiar, and go back to a period 
long before the first Christmas was celebrated, when the islands 
now called Great Britain were almost beyond the limits of the 
known world. At that time, Britain was an almost desolate marsh, 
inhabited by a barbarous race, gigantic in stature, fierce and blood- 
thirsty in disposition. Their religion was Druidism ; and among 
other horrible rites, they practised human sacrifice. They were 
divided into thirty or forty tribes, each with its own king, and 
were constantly at war with each other. Imagine the ferocious 
appearance these giants must have presented, as, standing in 
clumsy chariots, whose wheels were armed with sharp scythes, 
their long, yellow hair streaming in the wind, their half-naked 
bodies stained blue, with the juice of the woad, and brandishing 
short swords, rudely fashioned from the tin with which the island 
abounded, they drove madly among their enemies. 

They had no settled habitations, but wandered hither and 
thither, as they were impelled by fear of their enemies, attracted 
by good pasturage for their cattle, or induced by the abundance of 
game or fish. 

Such was the people whom Julius Caesar, a mighty Roman 
general, determined to subdue. He could not have been led by 
his insatiate avarice, since there was little plunder to be gained 
from the mud-huts of Britain, but rather by his insatiate ambition. 
It is said, that when he was a young man, and was one day 
reading the history of Alexander the Great, he burst into tears. 
His friends anxiously asked him why he wept. " Do you think," 
said he, " that I have not just cause, when I remember that Alex- 
ander, at my age, had conquered so many nations, and I have, as 
yet, done nothing memorable ? " 

On a beautiful August day, in the year 55 B. c.,you may imagine 
this brave man, with two legions whom victory had always attended, 
embarking at Calais. He beholds the white cliffs of Dover, gleam- 
ing in the sunlight of a summer morning ; and burns to possess 
himself of this unknown world, whose conquest will heap fresh 
honors upon himself. With far different feelings did the giants of 
Britain descry the approach of the hostile fleet. From the rocky 
heights of their sea-girt country, they could discern the glancing of 
the oars, as they dipped in the foam-crested waves; and, as it 
drew nearer and nearer, they recognized the high beaks which pro- 
claimed the Roman galley. They had heard of Cesar's prowess ; 
and when they remembered, that with him, to see and to conquer 



l868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 199 

were synonymous, their hearts sank within them. Yet, they crowded 
in vast numbers to the shore, armed with clubs, and urging their 
reluctant horses into the surf, with fierce gestures bade defiance to 
the invaders. After a brief struggle, Caesar, with much more 
readiness than he would have acknowledged, accepted pledges of 
submission from a few weak tribes, and recrossed the channel. 
The next spring, he again attacked the Britons, and returned, after 
having imposed an annual tribute upon them. It has been said, 
that " Caesar did not conquer Britain, but only showed it to the 
Romans." And I rather think the Romans thought so too ; for, 
though they made a great parade over his exploits there, the 
Emperor Claudius found it necessary to conquer it over again, a 
little while after ; and it was then that Caractacus, the leader of a 
tribe called the Silures, was overpowered, and, loaded with chains, 
was taken to Rome, to grace his conqueror's triumph. Not as a 
captive did he demean himself, however. Undismayed by the 
splendor of the patricians, or the jeers of the plebeians who thronged 
the wayside to witness his humiliation ; not dispirited by his own 
misfortunes, but calm and dignified, though his relatives who shared 
his fate filled the air with their lamentations, proudly he bore 
himself, as when a freeman and a king, he trod the hillsides of his 
native land, and only expressed a wonder that men accustomed to 
such regal surroundings, and possessed of such magnificent palaces 
at home, should think it worth their while to fight for the wretched 
mud-hovels of Britain. What a rebuke to Roman avarice ! To 
the honor of Claudius, be it said, that, admiring the virtue of his 
foe, he set him at liberty. 

After this, there were many invasions of Britain by Roman 
generals, the most cruel of which was that by Suetonius Paulinus 
in the year 61. You must read the story of Boadicea, the 
" warrior queen " of one of the native tribes, who resisted him 
so fiercely that seventy thousand of his army were slain in the 
conflict, and Boadicea at last put an end to her own life, fearing 
to fall into the hands of the enraged victor. To Julius Agricola, 
however, who took possession of the country A. D. 78, the estab- 
lishment of the Roman power in Britain is due ; for he realized 
what is as true now as then, that power, to be worth the 
having, must be that which is founded, not upon severe exactions 
and tyrannical enforcements, but must present to those over whom 
it is exercised superior attractions. So, he taught this half-savage 
people the arts of peace, and gradually induced them to desire a 



20O 



BE POLITE. [May, 



more civilized life. For upwards of four centuries, Rome held 
supremacy over Britain ; but at last recalled her troops to defend 
interests nearer home, and then the Picts and Scots leaped over 
the walls that had been put up by Agricola and his successors, and 
poured down like an avalanche upon the now defenceless Britons. 
In vain they sent touching letters to Rome, saying, " The bar- 
barians chase us into the sea, and the sea drives us back upon the 
barbarians. We have only the hard choice of perishing by the 
sword or by the waves." Rome cared little for the sufferings of a 
province that had added little glory to her name. 

Where they finally went for aid, and the answer they got, brings 
us to the second milestone of our journey. COUSIN ALICE. 




BE POLITE. 

]N anecdote is related of the late Hon. George McDuffie, 
of South Carolina, which we take pleasure in reprinting, 
and commending to our readers. When a very little boy, 
George was one evening holding a calf by the ears, while 
his mother milked the cow. A gentleman passing by, said : 

" Good evening, my little son." 

George returned " Good evening, sir," with so polite a bow as to attract 
the gentleman's attention, who said, 

" Why did you not pull off your hat, my little friend ? " 

"So I will, sir," said George, "if you will get down and hold the calf 
for me." 

His politeness and his shrewd remark were the making of him, for the 
gentleman, who was rich, said to his mother, 

" Your son is a bright boy, and will, one day, if he is properly trained, 
make a great man. If you allow me, I will educate him, and give him a 
start in the world." 

George's mother was only too glad to thank the gentleman for his 
kind offer, and to let him take charge of her son, who became a distin- 
guished man ; serving his country at different times as a senator in Con- 
gress and as governor of his native state. 

Boys and girls, would you be beloved and respected ? Be polite to 
all, the rich, as well as the poor ; and never fail to be polite and 
respectful to the old. Be polite at home, for politeness must begin at 
home. It has been truly said, that " nothing makes the young so lovely, 
as an habitual respect and dutiful deportment toward their friends and 
superiors. Such conduct makes the plainest face beautiful, and gives 
to every action a nameless but peculiar charm." 



x868.] 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 



201 




THE WANDERING JEW. The 
following strange account is given 
of this fabled personage. His orig- 
inal name, the tradition says, was 
Caliphilus, the porter of Pontius 
Pilate. When they were dragging 
our Saviour out of the Judgment 
Hall, or, as other accounts say, as our 
Lord was struggling painfully along, 
faint and weary, with the burthen of 
the Cross, this man brutally struck 
Him on his back, saying to Him, 
" Go faster, Jesus ! go faster ! why 
dost thou linger ? " Upon which, 
the Saviour turned to him, with a 
frown, and said, " I am, indeed, 
going ; but thou shalt tarry till I 
come." Soon afterwards, he became 
a Christian, and took the baptismal 
name of Joseph. But the fable 
says, he lives forever, and will walk 
the earth, as a homeless wanderer, 
going from place to place, until the 
sound of the Archangel's trump. 
At the end of every hundred years, 
he falls into a trance, from which, 
when he recovers, he returns to the 
same state of youth as he had at 
the time of the Crucifixion, being 
then about thirty years old. He 
always maintains the same grave 
look and deportment, and never 
seen to smile ; and recollects the 
death and resurrection of our Lord 
perfectly. 

MILITARY COURTESY. The 
theory of firing a salute, is, that it 



leaves the guns harmless, and at 
the mercy of the other party ; and 
this is so true, that firing salutes 
with blank cartridge is a modern 
innovation, occasioned, however, by 
the fact of a complimentary cannon- 
ball proving fatal once to the per- 
sonage whom it meant to honor. 
When an officer salutes, he points 
his drawn sword to the ground ; 
and the salute of troops is still des- 
ignated "presenting arms" that 
is, presenting them to be taken. 

A FROG STORY. One is half 
inclined to accept as indubitable, 
what Elian tells us about the water- 
snakes and frogs of Egypt. The 
former have, he informs us, a pas- 
sionate liking for frogs that is, 
for devouring and digesting them. 
No one knows this better than the 
frog, and accordingly, when they 
meet in a pond, wonderful is the 
cunning that ensues. The water- 
snake glides up, as if intentionless 
of evil; but our other slimy friend 
is quite aware of the intentions of 
the passionless-looking snake. He 
makes for the nearest twig, seizes 
it, and carries it across his mouth, 
and then fearlessly approaches the 
hydra. The latter now makes at 
the frog with open jaws ; but the 
twig across the frog's mouth is 
much wider than the jaws of the 
snake, and he can by no possibility, 
swallow the much-desired frog. 



2O2 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 



[May, 



The latter looks down his enemy's 
throat from the outside, holds fast 
to the protecting twig, and laughs. 
The water-snake tries again and 
again ; he glides around his antici- 
pated victim, but the frog always 
contrives to keep him in view ; and, 
the end of every attempt is, that the 
foiled snake finds the bar carried by 
his anticipatory victim, lying across 
his open jaws, and the frog once 
more laughing down his throat. 
The hydra at length gives up in 
despair; and "froggy," plumping 
into a safe spot, where he knows 
his kindred to be assembled, tells 
his exciting tale, raising a very din 
of croaking congratulations. 

PERFECT PRINTING. It has 
been doubted whether an absolutely 
perfect copy of a classical author 
has ever been printed. A wealthy 
amateur tried to make a perfect 
copy of lt Os Luciados," of Camo- 
ens ; and, with the aid of the accom- 
plished printer, Didot, got up a 
magnificent edition of it, at an enor- 
mous expense, which was not to 
contain a single error. All thought 
that he had succeeded ; but when the 
book was printed, an error was dis- 
covered in some of the copies, by 
one of the letters of the word luzi- 
tuno being displaced by some acci- 
dent, while working the sheets. 
The same experiment was made by 
a famous firm in Glasgow. Every 
precaution was taken to procure 
typographical accuracy. Six expe- 
rienced proof-readers were em- 
ployed, who devoted many hours 
to each page ; and when they had 
done with it, it was posted up in 
* u ~ hall of the University, with a 



the 



notice offering a reward "of fifty 
pounds to any person who discov- 
ered an error. Each page was thus 
posted for two weeks before it went 
to press. No error was discovered ; 
but when the work was printed, 
several errors were detected, one of 
which was in the first line of the 
first page. 

THERE is a mountain of fine salt 
on the Colorado river, in Arizona, 



lying in cubes of all sizes, and so 
pure, you would never dream of it 
being salt, if you did not put it to 
your tongue ; it more resembles 
broken pieces of the finest plate 
glass. There is not a particle of 
foreign matter in it, and there is 
enough of the article to supply the 
population for centuries. Why 
don't some of our Yankees go and 
level that mountain ? 

THE following paragraph is very 
tantalizing. Who will give us some 
more particulars ? 

"In Fayette county, Iowa, just 
east of Clermont, Captain Appleton, 
while sinking a well, came upon a 
buried forest, the tops of the trees 
being twelve feet below the surface. 
The trees are erect, showing that 
the earth by which they were sub- 
merged had been gently and gradu- 
ally deposited around them." 

A CHILD'S EVENING HYMN. 

Little child, why wilt thou fear? 
Jesus, tender Shepherd's near; 
He thy downy couch will keep, 
Tremble not to sleep. 

Little child, why wilt thou fear ? 
Night is to His vision clear, 
And the darkness knows his tread ; 
He defends thy bed. 

Though thy voice were ne'er so low, 
It will reach his ear, I know, 
For, His words thy plea shall be, 
" Children, come to me." 

Listening alway up above, 
Waiting, watching for thy love, 
Little child, 'tis easy now 
To His will to bow ! 

Put thy trembling hand in His, 
Strong and powerful it is ; 
It shall guide thee through the Night 
Into perfect Light. 

A LITTLE boy, seeing two nestling 
birds pecking at each other, inquired 
of his elder brother what they were 
doing. " They are quarrelling," was 
the answer. 

" No," replied the boy, " tiat can- 
not be ; they are brothers" 



AUNT SUE S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



203 





answers correctly the greatest num- 
ber of the March puzzles, and wins 
his third prize, the gold pen, in 
silver pencil-case If, however, he 
would prefer some book, let him 
write to the publisher (H. B. Ful- 
ler), and mention his choice. 



QUESTIONS, ENIGMAS, CHARADES, 
ETC. 

117. I am composed of 16 letters: 
Two little boys went to visit my 
whole. Their father gave each 
one a new 16, 10, 5, 9, 3, before 
they started, which delighted 
them very much, as one had lost 
his old one, and the other had 
broken his. They stopped at a 
friend's house, who gave the lit- 
tle boys a very comfortable 4, 14, 



i, to sleep in ; but offered them 
some 12, 2, n, 7, to drink, which 
they did not like at all. After 
spending a week very pleasantly, 
they returned, by boat, to 6, 15, 
8, 13, where they lived. 

Florian. 

1 1 8. I am composed of 26 letters : 
My 24, 21, 3, 26, is a kind of fur. 
My 2, 3, 12, 20, 6, is a season. 
My 16, 13, 22, 9, is a vessel. 
My i, n, 25, 15, is part of a 

vessel. 

My 5, 23, 4, is an animal. 

My 17, 7, 23, 19, is a part of that 
animal. 

My 8, 1 8, 14, is not a desirable 
companion. 

My 14, 10, is an interjection. 

My whole is a member of a Ger- 
man organization. 

C. F. W. 

119. My first is a conveyance ; my 

second is found in most 
countries ; my whole is a 
great destroyer. Monitor. 

1 20. My first is part of a ship ; my 

second is a number ; and my 

whole is a native of Europe. 

S. Harp. 

121. Divide a color, and leave a 

flower, and a girl's name. 

A DOUBLE ACROSTIC. 

122. The initial and final letters of 

the following items form the 
title of a novel by Charles 
Dickens : 



204 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[May 



A fluid. 

Noting inclusion. 

Irritation. 

A loud noise. 

The name given to certain kinds 

of animals. 
An ingredient. 

Lorain Lincoln. 

WHAT PLACES IN EUROPE MEAN 
WHEN TRANSPOSED. 

123. Ranged. 

124. Stone. 

125. A simple mechanical power. 

126. Valleys. 

127. A greater quantity. 

128. Dark. A. R. T. 

129. My first is an article of dress ; 

my second (in sound) is a 
grain ; my third is a grain ; 
and my whole is a sign. 

Violet Forest. 

GOOD ADVICE. 

130. Shower is quite a tree 
Till a th never stand 

ANAGRAMS. 

131. Teach our Phil ? My ! 

Double You See. 

132. Great manners. A. O. 

133. A sore pen ! T. Bittersweet. 
146. 



134. N. dig ore. Robbie Eddowes. 

135. Tired Max sits. 

Violet Forest. 

Fill the following blanks with the 
same words transposed : 

136. He his and was hung for 

it. Fred. 

137. You must not the 

. The are . 

Alice Tipton. 

is unchristian : to be 



138. 



139- 



140. 



is impolite. Gilbert. 

! if it storms the . 

A. R. T. 



actions prove 



her to be 
F.F. 



141. He threw his over the 

, and began to with 

trouble. Belle. 

NAMES OF PLANTS AND FLOWERS 
ENIGMATICALLY EXPRESSED. 

142. Two plain simple letters in 

syllables two. 

143. A staff for a miser, a banker, a 

Jew. 

144. The plume of a kingdom's 
presumptive heir. 

145. The children's delight, and a 

cluster of hair. 




i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



205 



fgjj^ Answers must reach me before 
the %th of June. Those received 
later will not be credited. 

gS 53 Send all communications in- 
tended for the PUZZLE DRAWER to 
"Aunt Sue," Box in, P. O., Brook- 
lyn, N. Y. 

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE 
MARCH NUMBER. 

60. Sic semper tyrannis. 

6 1. Fannie Belle Currie. 

62. Cockscomb. 

63. Hollyhock. 

64. Trumpet honeysuckle. 

65. Touch-me-not. 

66. Maple, palm. 

67. Bustard, mustard, ("ibis, iris, 

parrot, carrot, plover, clover, 
and duck, dock," credited). 

68. Mico ; Morilkm, Isca, Cicada, 

Orach. 

69. Wine is a mocker ; strong drink 

is raging ; whosoever is de- 
ceived thereby is not wise. 

70. Verbena ; (i) verb ; (2) Eve ; 

(3) Ben ; (4) raw ; (5) bran ; 
(6) ear ; (7) brave ; (8) rave : 
(9) bane ; (10) beaver, bear ; 
(11) bean ; (12) barn; (13) 
never; (14) name ; (15) near. 

71. Condemnation. 

72. Compete. 

73. Amuse. 

74. Saltpetre. 

75. Colorado. 

76. Good Hope. 

77. Missouri. 

78. Pleasures. 

79. Antitrinitarianism. 



80. Private. 

8 1. Ophicleide. 

82. Levi, live, evil, vile, veil. 

83. Barn, bran (" shop, hops," cred- 

ited). 

84. Aid came on Macedonia, 

85. Dozen pairs. 

86. A variety is delightful. 

87. All kinds of animals. 
Of the above Puzzles, 

GILBERT answers all but 68. 
F. R. S. answers all but 79, 84. 
Belle answers all but 68, 84. 
Max answers all but 62, 68, 84. 
Keystone answers all but 62, 65, 68. 

Robbie Eddowes answers all but 61. 
68, 84. 

Freddie answers all but 68, 79, 84. 

Jeannie M. answers all but 65, 79, 
81, 84. 

Ixia answers all but 62, 68, 77, 84. 

W. D. //. answers all but 68, 73, 79, 
81, 84. 

Anna W. N. answers all but 61, 

62, 68, 79, 81, 84. 

T. Hall answers all but 61, 65, 66, 
68, 77, 79, 8 1, 84. 

Lettie R. Loomis answers all but 61, 

63, 64, 68, 72, 75, 77, 84. 

Willie Faris answers all but 61, 63, 
68, 69, 77, 79, 81, 82, 84. 

T. Bowles answers all but 63, 64, 
68, 72, 73,74,78,80,81,84. 

Elmer and Myrtle answer 60, 65, 
66, 68, 69, 71, 74, 76, 78, 80, 
83, 86. 

Millard F. Richards answers 69, 
85, 87. 



2O6 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[May, 



NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 

"Freddie's Mother" You may 
depend upon it, that it is good, 
wholesome " brain" exercise for 
him. 

Lettie R. Loomis. Your list of 
answers showed that you had 
studied the subject. I was sorry to 
be obliged to scratch out any. 
Your " sentence " in 71 was pretty 
severe. 

Thomas Bowles. How is your 
brother Harry ? Your " first at- 
tempt " was very creditable. 

Tempy. Thanks for your goodly 
list of puzzles. 

Wolverine. You must post your 
answers before the 6th, if you want 
them to reach me before the 8th. 
That "notice to smokers" was 
quite ingenious. 

Saxon. Your puzzles are " ac- 
ceptable," but will need some alter- 
ation to make the definitions less 
palpable. 

Ixia. Had Puzzle 77 been headed 
" Astronomical," your answer (" Sir- 
ius ") would have done very well. 



W. D. Holden sends his love to 
the Cousins. 

Anna W. N. Yes ; I had been 
wondering what had become of you. 

Keystone. I could not credit you 
with answering No. 68 (although 
you gave "Mico "), because you did 
not name the items. 

Gilbert. Your answer to 68 
would have done very well (" Saki ; 
snipe, acorn, katydid, indian-corn,") 
if "acorn " had been an "excres- 
cence ; " but an acorn is a natural 
growth, which an excrescence is 
not. 

F. R. S. Don't be discouraged. 
Wouldn't you rather be next to the 
head, than " down foot ? " I am 
afraid you haven't such a buoyant 
nature as the boy who went home 
from school, rejoicing, and told his 
mother he " came within one of 
winning the prize ! " " Why, Jim- 
my, how was that ? " " Oh ! I 
stood next to the boy that got it ! " 

Thanks for enigmas, etc., tc Mil- 
lard F. Richards, Auntie, Saxon, 
and Keystone. 




i868." 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



207 




WE had hoped to be able to offer 
our readers a May-basket, full of 
lively letters, but the heavy snows 
seem to have blighted the " Vio- 
lets," " Daisies," and " Blue-bells," 
who used to appear, and we must 
content ourselves with a reminis- 
cence from Cousin Tribulation. 
However, as American May-days 
are never rich in flowers, perhaps 
this is all we can expect, as we had 
rather have none at all, than artifi- 
cial ones. 

DEAR MERRY'S, We never 
celebrate May-day in our family, 
for, long ago, we learned that it was 
all a pretty delusion ; and I'll tell 
you how we found it out. There 
were six of us ; and, on a certain 
May-day, years ago, we rashly re- 
solved to have a rustic revel, in 
spite of every obstacle. So, we in- 
vited six young neighbors, and after 
unheard-of fixings and fussings, all 
were ready at the appointed hour. 



We lived in a quiet country vil- 
lage, and the affair made a great stir, 
as well it might, for we were all to 
go in costume. We thought it was 
a magnificent spectacle ; but it is my 
private opinion that it was a very 
ridiculous one. Nobody hinted 
such a thing, however ; and we 
marched away, for a day in the 
woods, feeling that the eye of the 
town was fixed admiringly upon 
us. 

The Queen went first, in white, 
with a purple cloak, a garland of 
astonishing paper flowers, and a 
golden sceptre in her hand. The 
May-pole (a clothes-pole), wound 
with evergreen and gay ribbons, 
with a mammoth bouquet atop, was 
borne behind her by Robin Hood, 
all in green, with horn and bow, 
and a funny, fat puppy for a stag- 
hound. Then followed an Indian 
Chief, awful to behold, with blue 
and yellow paint on his face, a buf- 
falo-robe, hatchet, and moccasins. 
He escorted Mother Hubbard ; and 
after them came a brilliant train of 
soldiers, fairies, sailors, princesses, 
and hobgoblins. 

The crowning touch was the don- 
key, who drew the little cart hold- 
ing the feast. He had but two 
legs, and wore gray trowsers ; but 



208 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



[May. 



liis head was perfect; and oh, joyful 
to behold, a tail that waggled, and 
ears that flapped ! 

With clapping and cheers, and 
shrieks of laughter, the grand cav- 
alcade vanished from the town, to 
startle the squirrels, birds, and cows, 
as it wound its way to the wood. 
Once there, law and order ceased ; 
and the party looked like a lunatic 
asylum out for a holiday. The don- 
key danced with the queen ; the 
wild Indian chopped wood with his 
tomahawk ; the soldiers stormed 
an ant-hill ; and Mother Hubbard 
beat Robin Hood's dog, for smel- 
ling at the dinner. 

We all longed for dinner as in- 
tensely as he did, but no one dared 
suggest it till the proper time ; and 
before that happy period arrived, 
something dreadful happened. It 
began to rain ; every one scam- 
pered off to an old sheep-shed, in a 
field near by ; every one got wet ; 
and the cart upset, as the excited 
donkey rattled it through the brook. 
What a wail we all set up, as we 
heard the crash ; saw our lovely 
cake go splash into the water, and 
felt the rain drench us, as we tried 
to pick up the feast. 

The dinner was entirely spoilt ; 
but we collected the soaked and 
broken bits, and all huddled into 
the shed to eat them, trying to 
think it was good fun. But it 
wasn't ; oh, dear, no ! it was cold 
and damp, and dull, and every one 
was cross, and hungry, and wet. 
Our clothes were spoilt ; and though 
we laughed at the Indian, who was 
a fearful sight, streaked with the 
paint, as it washed off, we soon 
tell to bemoaning ourselves, and 
blaming the proposers of the fete. 

No one would go home, even 
when it set in for a steady pour, be- 
cause wiseacres had foretold rain, 
and we had scorned the idea. We 
said we'd spend the day in the 
wood ; and we'd do it, if we all got 
our death-colds. 



We were very miserable, 
stood it manfully, till several anx- 
ious fathers appeared with umbrel- 
las, and insisted on taking us home. 
Everybody would look out and 
laugh, as we passed ; and I really 
don't feel now as if I could blame 
them, for a donkey carrying an um- 
brella over his dripping ears, with- 
out spirit enough left to wag his 
tail, ivas rather funny, I confess. 
So was a queen, done up in a buf- 
falo-robe, on a man's back ; and an 
Indian, with a blue nose, yellow lips, 
and green cheeks, with a big tin- 
pan on his head, wasn't a solemn 
sight exactly. 

We were glad to be dried, 
warmed, fed, and consoled, and 
none of us would own that it wasn't 
"jolly ; " but not a soul out of the 
twelve ever tried a May-day party 
again. 

I don't wish to cast a damper 
upon other people's picnics, or nip 
their spring delusions in the bud ; 
but if my experience is a warning 
or a guide, they are very welcome 
to it. COUSIN TRIBULATION. 

Annie F. May. Your letter is 
personally interesting, but too long 
for the Chat. 

W e. Your little story is 

hardly up to the standard. Never 
use a Ion? word, when a short one 
will do as'well. 

JR. S. Yes; "Little Pearl" was 
written by a lady. We are glad 
you like it. The other day, we 
overheard a little girl say, " I do 
think ' Little Pearl ' is 'the best 
story I ever read." 

Willy Wisp. We have sent 
your puzzles to Aunt Sue. 

A. N. L. Your premium will be 
sent in a few days. The blocks 
from which the illustrations were 
printed were lost, and had to be 
replaced. 







MIXK CURT1SS AND THE BOYS. 




VOL. I.] 



JUNE, 1868. 



[NO. 6. 



MINK CURTISS; OR, LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 

BY AN OLD HUNTER. 

CHAPTER I. 

T was not many days after Mr. John 
L Martin moved his family into the neat 
and snug log-cabin he had built for them 
in the western part of Arkansas, that his 
.two sons were scouting around (as all 
city-bred boys will do when the oppor- 
tunity occurs), in search of curiosities 
and adventures. 

The house it looked very small and queer to 
them, having always lived in a large one built of 
brick, and fronting a noisy street was situated just in 
the edge of a grove of timber, on one side of which ran a river, 
and on the other, a prairie stretched away for miles, looking like 
a great green ocean when the wind is gently blowing over it. 

They were bright-faced and bright-witted boys, George being 
sixteen and Frank about two years younger \ somewhat tall of their 
age, but they knew nothing of the new life they were going to lead, 
and made all kinds of curious blunders. These were a frequent 
source of amusement to their father, who, being occupied with his 
own affairs, gave them liberty to ramble, and answered all their 
questions, as a kind father will always do at proper times. 

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by H. B. FULLER, in the Clerk's 
Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 




210 



MINK CURTISS; OR, [June, 



Thus far, however, their explorations had been confined to the 
immediate neighborhood of the house, they being somewhat held 
in check by the stories they had read of Indians ; and the more 
especially, as they had seen one at but a little distance, dressed in 
skins and a bright blanket, with feathers woven into his hair and 
paint upon his face, riding a little shaggy pony at a furious rate. 
But, as the days passed along, they became bolder, and at length 
ventured to ask their father if they might go into the woods. 

" Who knows what we might find ? " said George, who, having 
read the life of Kit Carson and Fremont, fancied that he, too, might 
turn out a great explorer. 

" Who knows what you might not find ? " laughed his father. 
" But you may go, boys, provided you will remember to be very 
careful, and to return home early." 

These things they willingly promised to keep in mind ; and their 
kind, thoughtful mother having supplied them with an ample 
amount of luncheon, they started off in great glee, hardly pausing 
to say good-by to their younger and only sister, who was crying, 
because she could not go with them. 

" Never you mind, sis," shouted Frank, waving his hat in fare- 
well ; " never you mind. I'll bring you back a rabbit, squirrel, or 
or something nice." 

Everything was new and strange to them. The trees were so 
tall, the little birds so numerous, the squirrels chattering and scold- 
ing each other so constantly, the nuts lying upon the ground so 
thickly, the brown-eyed rabbits stopping to stare at them, and then, 
with a whisk of their short, white tails, disappearing in the bushes, 
and the wild pigeons rushing through the woods in such vast num- 
bers, that the boys were for a time almost bewildered. They 
had never seen rabbit, squirrel, or pigeon before, except dead in 
the market, or confined in cages. 

" Wouldn't it be capital fun to get a nestful of young ones, and 
take home ? " questioned Frank, after he had recovered from his 
astonishment, and stained his hands so, that it would take a month 
to get them white again, trying to open the green husk of the 
hickory nuts. 

" Yes, glorious ! " replied George. " There is one, I know, in 
that tall tree. Look, how it hangs down ! It must be chock-full of 
young ones or eggs. Just give me a boost, Frank, and I'll soon 
climb up and bring it down." 

" Never hearn tell o' birds nestin' in ther autumn, or layin' eggs 



l868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 211 

in er yaller-jacket's nest, nuther," said a deep-toned, but not un- 
friendly voice. 

The boys looked around in astonishment and fear, for they had 
fancied themselves alone. 

Standing directly in front of them, and at but a little distance, 
was an old man, dressed in a well-worn blanket-coat, tied around 
his waist with a faded red comforter, with a coon-skin cap upon his 
head, and buck-skin pantaloons and moccasins. He was a very tall 
man, thin in flesh, his skin bronzed by exposure to the sun and 
wind ; with grizzled hair and whiskers, and gray eyes as sharp as 
those of a cat. In his hand, he held a long rifle ; a knife and 
hatchet were thrust through one side of his rude belt, and on the 
other were powder-horn and bullet-pouch. 

" Yer needn't have any fear o' me, boys," he said, as he saw that 
they were drawing back. " Yer needn't have any fear o' me, fer I 
hain't er goin' ter hurt yer. But who ar yer, onyway ? I disre- 
member ever seein' o' yer before." 

" Our names are Frank and George Martin," replied the elder, 
taking upon himself the office of spokesman ; " and we live just on 
the other side of the grove." 

"Martin? Many's the one on 'em I have caught in my time," 
said the old man. Then, seeing their bewilderment, he continued : 
"It war er different kind from you, though anermiles, and not 
men, or boys. Martin ? Wai, I remember now ter have heard 
that yer family had moved in. I saw yer father when he war out 
here before. So, yer his sons, ar yer ? Likely lads, too, both on 
yer." 

" Oh ! what English and grammar ! " whispered Frank. " Ask 
him what his name is, George." 

" Yes," resumed the old man ; " I saw yer father ; and mayhap 
yer mought have hearn him talk o' me." 

" That may be ; but, as I do not know your name, it is impossible 
to tell." 

" My name ? Why, I thought everybody knew me that had ever 
been in Arkansaw." 

" But, we have never been here before. It is only a few days 
since we arrived." 

" Sartin, sartin ; I ought ter have known that. Wai, boys, my 
name is Mink Curtiss." 

" That is a queer name," laughed Frank, whose love of fun could 
seldom be kept within control. 



212 MINK CURTISS; OR, [June, 

" I did have another when I war as young as you ; but it is so 
long sin' I have heard it, that I've e'en ermost fergot what it sounds 
like." 

" But, why did they call you Mink ? " 

" Ther Injuns gin me ther name when I fust begun trappin' on 
ther streams eround here, becase I could beat 'em all catching 
minks. Yer know what they ar, boys ? " 

" Yes ; we have often seen the skins made into muffs, and such 
things." 

"Wai, that's the reason they called me ' Mink.' " 

" But, the Indians ! " asked both of the boys in a breath, for they 
had terrible ideas of the Red Man. " Were they plenty when you 
came here ? " 

" Plenty ? " and the old man laughed the silent laugh of one whose 
life has been spent in the woods. " Plenty ? They war as thick 
as ther leaves on ther trees." 

" Then, you must have been in constant danger ? " 

" Wai, no. They hain't bad critters ter git erlong with, ef yer 
only use 'em right ; but ef yer don't, they're jest like other men. I 
had er leetle brush with them now and ergin ; but in ther main, it 
war all friendly bertween us, and we paddled ther same canoe." 

" Is that the Indian name for their bark boats ? " asked Frank. 

" Not by er long shot. They call it chee-maun." 

" Do you talk the Indian language ? " 

" Sartinly, sartinly. Er half er dozen on 'em." 

From that moment, the President of the United States did'nt 
stand half so high in the estimation of the boys, as the old hunter 
and trapper, Mink Curtiss. A man who could talk a half-dozen 
Indian languages, was, to their mind, greater than king or emperor. 

" War ar yer bound, boys ? " resumed the old man. 

" We came into the woods to gather a few nuts, and " 

" Git young birds in ther fall, and eggs out on er yaller-jacket's 
nest," laughed the old man, shaking all over at the thought, but 
without giving utterance to a sound. 

" What are ' yellow-jackets ? ' " asked George. 

" Ef yer had er got yer hands on that thar nest, yer'd soon have 
found out, I kin tell yer. They ar ther most pesky kind of hornets. 
But which way ar yer bound ? " 

" To no particular place. We merely came out to spend the 
day, and enjoy ourselves." 

" And yer father told yer ye mought ? " 



l868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 213 

" Certainly. We always ask him, and never do anything without 
his consent." 

" That's good boys, fust-rate boys. As long as yer mind yer 
father and mother, thar's mighty leetle danger of yer gittin' on ther 
wrong trail." 

" Perhaps you would be kind enough to show us some of the 
curiosities of the woods." 

" I have got ter go hum now, fer I have bin out all night on er 
deer-run. But yer kin walk along with me, and likes as not, we 
may see somethin' that'll look curious-like ter yer." 

" Do you live far from here ? Father said that we must not be 
out late." ' 

" Father, ergin. Right as ther sights of this ere old rifle. Wai, 
my cabin stands on ther bank of er leetle ' run ' that empties inter 
ther river, erbout two miles from here. S'pose yer come and see 
how ther old man lives. Yer kin git back as arly as yer like, fer 
yer feet ar young and actyve. I've many a thing, I allow, that yer 
never seen before horns, and skins, and teeth, and Injun fixins, 
and sich like." 

The word Indian was a talismanic one with them. They needed 
little urging ; and taking their places on either side of the old hunter, 
they walked rapidly through the forest, pausing now and then to 
look at some rare tree, and ask questions. 

The home of Mink Curtiss was a little, strongly-built, log-cabin, 
situated, as he had said, on a brook, and surrounded by grand old 
trees hickory, birch, and maple. On the outer side of the door 
were stretched and nailed the skins of coon and muskrats, to cure 
and dry. On one side was suspended from a stout branch, the 
dismembered carcass of a deer ; on the other, stood a part of the 
trunk of a hollow tree, filled with bees and honey. 

" I have ter hang it up high," said the old man, by way of expla- 
nation, as he saw the eyes of the boys resting enquiringly upon the 
venison, " so as ter keep ther wolves from jumpin' up and tearin' it 
down." 

" Wolves ? " asked the boys, in alarm. " Are there many of them 
about here ? " 

" Wai, they hain't so plenterful as they used ter be, that is, ther 
timber wolves, though every now and ergin, er pack comes erlong. 
As fer ther leetle, miserable, skulkin', perarer ones, thar's lots on 
them, but nobody makes any ercount on 'em. But come inter ther 
hut, boys ; I'll show yer ther pelts of both on 'em." 



214 



MINK CURTISS; OR, [June, 



As good as a museum was the hut of the old hunter to the boys. 
It was hung around with the horns of the deer and buffalo, and 
skins, and teeth, and claws of the bear and wolf, and even panther ; 
while in one corner were carefully piled the finer peltries, that, when 
manufactured, bring large prices for ladies' wear, in the cities. 
There were, also, Indian bows and arrows, stone-headed hatchets, 
pipes, moccasins, snow-shoes, traps, and various other articles in- 
cident to frontier-life, all mingled in the strangest confusion. On 
one side, four stout stakes had been deeply driven into the ground, 
and the tough hide of a buck stretched over them. This was the 
bed of the old man. On the other, was a fireplace, taking up 
fully one-half of the side of the cabin. This was his kitchen. In 
the centre, were a rude table and two benches. Over the fire- 
place was a huge pair of antlers. Upon this the hunter hung his 
rifle ; and then, turning to the boys, who were earnestly examining 
everything, said : 

" Aren't yer hungry ? Bin ter breakfast, I s'pose ; but I never 
saw er time, when I war of yer age, but what I could eat, jest as 
well as not." 

" Mother gave us something to bring with us," replied George, 
producing bread and cake from the basket he carried. " Won't 
you have some of it ? " 

"Wai, I don't mind. It hain't often that I git sich things. But 
I'll cook some venison ter help make out our dinner." 

" Oh, what glorious fun ! " shouted Frank. " Wouldn't our old 
schoolmates give something to have such a picnic ? " 

The old man kindled a fire (with flint and steel something the 
boys had never seen before), from the store of dry hickory-bark and 
wood he had at hand, watched it until it burned down to a mass of 
glowing coals, and then laid great slices of venison upon them, 
turning frequently, until he thought they were done. 

" Now, one on yer set ther table," he said, with a quiet smile. 

" I don't see anything to set it with," replied Frank, looking 
around, very much puzzled. 

" What ! hain't thar no plates ? Then I'll have ter go to ther 
store and git some, that's all." 

They knew that there was not a store within ten miles, at least, 
and were more perplexed than ever. But their host said nothing. 
He took an axe, stepped outside to where a log was lying, cut from 
it half a dozen large, clean chips, and returning, placed them upon 
the table. Then, with the aid of a sharp stick for a fork, he lifted 
up the hissing steaks of venison, and placed them upon the chips. 



1868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 215 

" Thar," he said, " is er meal and dishes fit for Gineral Jackson 
himself." 

He was the old hunter's beau-ideal of all that was great, and good, 
and noble. No man ever lived that could compare with him in 
the opinion of the old hunter. 

" It is prime," said George. 

" Capital," echoed Frank ; and in the enthusiasm of the moment, 
he pressed all the things they had brought with them upon the old 
hunter. 

" Yes ; take it all," assented George. " There never was any- 
thing half so good as this deer's-meat ; and I don't want a single 
mouthful of bread, or cake, either." 

" No ; and I won't have it," mumbled Frank, with his mouth so 
full, that he could scarcely articulate. "I wish I could always 
live on venison." 

The old man laughed, took a portion of the, to him, unusual food, 
ate it with great relish, forced them gently to eat their share, and 
answered, 

" I thank yer, boys ; and yer shall have jest as much venerson 
as yer choose ter carry hum \ and if yer kin git yer father ter con- 
sent, yer shall go with me sum day, and help ter kill er deer per- 
haps kill one yerself ; who kin tell ? " 

The rude, but sweet meal (sweeter to them than any they had ever 
tasted before, as they fancied), finished, the table was hastily cleared 
of dishes, by throwing them into the fire, to the huge delight of 
Frank. He, also, was about to gather up the crumbs and frag- 
ments, and dispose of them in a like manner, when the old hunter 
stopped him, took them out of his hands, carried them out of doors, 
and placed them upon a flat rock. 

" Never waste anything," he said, solemnly. " They'll be picked 
up by ther leetle birds and squirrels, and sich things. No, never 
waste anything, be it ever so small, even if yer live in ther midst of 
plenty. Ther good God gave us food for our bodies ; but he also 
gave inter our keeping ther beasts of ther fields, and ther fowls of 
ther air. I've often seen men in the buffeller country shoot down 
one, jest for ther sake of ther tongues, when they had cords ter eat, 
too, and leave ther great carcass ter rot. But it hain't Christians 
that ever do sich things, and they mought larn er lesson, even of 
ther red Injuns. They wouldn't do sich er thing no, never 
though they ar called savages. But ther good Lord saw ther buf- 
feller fall, and who knows but that he'll make them answer fer it, 
too?" 



2l6 MINK CURTISSj OR, LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. [June, 

They felt the force of the words they had heard, perhaps more 
than if they had been uttered in better and more eloquent language, 
for they came from the heart from an unexpected source ; and 
they stood with bowed heads and downcast eyes. But they were 
with one who would teach them many a useful lesson, kindly and 
and earnestly lessons of sterling, practical wisdom and charity, 
worth all the theories ever published. 

A very kind, warm, and true hearted old man was Mink Curtiss ; 
one who had learned to " look up from nature unto Nature's God," 
had drank in his crude ideas of religion from the color of the flow- 
ers, the songs of the birds, the rustling of the leaves, the murmur- 
ing of the brook, the radiance of the rainbow, the morning and 
evening sky, the whispering of the summer breeze, the thunder of 
the winter storm, and the thousand and one things that the dwellers 
in cities never give heed to. A man versed in all of woodcraft 
a humble and reverential man, according to his light, and one as 
certain to choose the path of truth and right, as his bullet was to 
hit the mark a thing it seldom failed to do. 

But he was not one to keep hammering away upon a subject, 
" ner strike er man arter he war down " (as he used to say). And, 
seeing how sorry the boys looked, he hastened to relieve them. 

" Now," he said, " yer come out here ter see somethin' of ther 
woods, and hain't seen nothin' yet, but er old hunter, who hasn't 
got any book-larnin', and his leetle cabin, which hain't of much 
ercount, onyway." 

" We have been well entertained," replied George ; " and we 
thank you for the lesson you taught us, of not being wasteful." 

" Do yer ? " and he took the hand of each in his own, and shook 
them warmly, while tears stood in his eyes. " Do yer raly thank 
me ? Wai, that's more'n most boys of er age would do, and shows 
that yer have been brought up right. But, as I war er sayin', yer 
hain't seen nothin' yet of eny ercount ; and, as thar is plenty of 
time, I'll take er walk with yer, and show yer whar ther rats build 
thar houses, and tell yer somethin' erbout them, fer they are cunnin' 
critters." 

" But, you must be tired, after hunting all night ? " 

"I didn't hunt much, though I war on er deer-run. But it 
would take far more'n that ter tire me. So, come erlong, boys ; and 
we will go down ter ther mash." 



1868.] THE KINGBIRD. 2 17 



THE KINGBIRD. 

OH, little folk, eager at. pictures to look, 

And hear wonderful stones told, 
Do any, I wonder, who read in this book, 

Know aught of the kingbird bold ? 

He's only a flycatcher, dusky and small, 

The robin is larger than he ; 
But, big birds or little, he lords it o'er all, 

As saucy as saucy can be. 

He chases the eagles, the hawks, and the crows. 

Till weary they are of their life ; 
And after his frolic, triumphant he goes, 

Singing " Victory ! " home to his wife : 

And perched on a twig by the side of the nest, 

Twitters loud of the conquests he won j 
He smooths the white feathers so soft on his breast, 

And tells her the news and the fun. 

And, " Fear nothing, sweet ! " he cries, proudly and glad, 

As she sits in her bower of green ; 
" Not a bird dare approach, for good purpose or bad, 

While I guard you, and watch, little queen." 

So, over the pretty eggs, speckled with brown, 

She patiently broods day and night ; 
Till out peep the tiny young heirs to the crown, 

All alive, and so hungry and bright ! 

And when they are grown, every prince of them bears, 

Hidden under his ashen-gray crest, 
The crown of red gold that the father-bird wears 

Of his race and his kingship the test. 



2I 8 LITTLE PEARL. [June, 

If you watch, little folk, in the blue summer sky, 

You may see him pursuing the crow, 
Or the dignified eagle, or hawk, strong and sly, 

And 'tis none but the kingbird you'll know. 

When, late in September, the maple-leaves burn, 

They gather together for flight ; 
And whither they go, you'll perhaps like to learn, 

When they vanish away in the night. 

South-westward, to Mexico ! High in the air, 

Upborne on their powerful wings, 
Flying dauntless and steady, with head winds, or fair, 

Push forward these resolute kings. 

And, when the snow chills us, and bitter winds bite, 

And tempests are roaring amain, 
In that wonderful, tropical land of delight, 

They revel in summer again. 

CELIA THAXTER. 




LITTLE PEARL. 

CHAPTER IV. FAIRY HOLLOW. 

JHEN the Saturday afternoon came, that Agnes and Lule 
were to go into the woods with Tad, Agnes felt that she 
ought not to go, and leave Pearl and Bliss again. But 
she would not deny herself so great a pleasure. " I'll 
go, just this once," she said to herself; " and Gassy will stay with 
them." She found it very hard to steal away from Gassy ; and she 
had no sooner got to the place where Tad, with his gun, and Lule, 
with her basket of lunch, were waiting for her, than she heard 
Gassy coming, running as if for her life. 

" Now, Gassy Marsh, you may just go back," said Agnes, as 
Gassy came in sight. " You shall not go one step." 

" I will, too j I've just as good right to go as you have," said 
Gassy, crying. 

" Well, we don't want you," said Lule. " You shan't have any 
of our luncheon ; and we won't speak to you once." 



1 868.] LITTLE PEARL. 219 

" Oh, let her go, if she wants too," said Tad ; " don't have a fuss 
about it." 

" Then, who'll stay with Pearl and Bliss ? " asked Agnes. 

" Oh, a great deal you care for Pearl and Bliss," said Gassy. 
" Pity you wasn't always so good ! " 

" I don't care ; I won't go, if you are going," said Agnes. " I 
declare, Cassy Marsh ; you are the worst young one I ever saw in 
my life. You've no more feeling than anything at all." 

" You feel as if you'd like to go ; don't you, Cas ? " Tad said. 
" Well, now, if you won't go, if you'll go back, and stay with Pearl 
and Bliss, you and Susy, I'll " 

" I don't care what you say," said Cassy, interrupting him ; " if 
Agnes goes, I'm going too. I've just as good right as she has." 

" Well, let us go," said Lule ; " and if she's a mind to tag, let 
her little cry-baby ! " 

So they started, Agnes and Lule going together, and talking 
gaily, and often stopping to whisper to each other, but taking no 
notice whatever of Cassy. 

" 'Nes, you don't know what else IVe got, besides what there is 
in the basket," said Lule. " See here, what Tad gave me ; " and 
she took a bright new picayune out of her mouth, and held it up, 
so that Cassy might see it. " Won't we have a jolly time with it ? " 
she went on. " We'll go down to Aunt Molly's, and get a lot of 
good things ; won't we ? " 

" Truly ? go down to Aunt Molly's ? " said Agnes, eagerly. 

" Yes, if Tad will go with us," said Lule. " Will you, Tad ? " 

" Oh, there is no need ; the swing is only a little way from the 
road," said Tad ; " and while I'm fixing the swing, you girls can go 
down there. You'll find me fast enough." 

So, when they came to the right place, Tad went into the woods, 
and the girls went down the road toward Aunt Molly's little shop. 
As they went along, Lule would take the bright little silver piece 
out of her mouth, and look at it fondly, and talk of the many nice 
things that she intended to get with it. But Agnes seemed to have 
suddenly lost her gay spirits. She neither laughed nor talked any 
more. 

" What's the matter with you ? " asked Lule. 

" Nothing." 

"Yes, there is, too. What's that you've got in your hand? 
Pearl's little shoe ? Why, where did you find it ? " 

" Right in the middle of the road," said Agnes. 



22O 



LITTLE PEARL. [June, 



" Well," said Lule ; " I should think you'd be glad you'd found 
it, and not look that way about it." 

But Agnes was not glad. The little shoe was a burden to her 
a burden heavy to carry. 

" Now, 'Nes, what would you get ? " said Lule, as they came 
within sight of the little shop-window, with its tempting display. 
" Would you get all candy ? or part nuts, and something else ? " 

" I don't know," said Agnes ; " I think figs and raisins are better 
than most anything." 

" Oh, I'll tell you what I'll get," said Lule. " I'll get three 
great sugar gooseberries ; one for you, and one for me, and one for 

Tad; and three Oh, dear, dear ! I've swallowed it! I've 

swallowed it ! " 

A loud ha ! ha ! ha ! was heard from Gassy. " Lule, I knew 
you'd do that," she said; "I was just sure of it, great goose, put- 
ting it in your mouth. I guess, I'll get as much as any of you now ! 
Ha! ha ! ha ! " But poor Lule looked so utterly woe-begone, that 
Cassy pitied her at last, and ceased teasing her. " We won't tell 
Tad how you lost it," she said, as they were going back ; " he'd 
plague you almost to death." 

It was a pleasant place in the woods where they found the swing. 
The trees were very large, and there was but little underwood, and 
flowers dotted the thick grass everywhere. The swing was a branch 
of an old grape-vine, which drooped from two tall trees that grew 
on either side of a little dell. 

"Oh, isn't it lovely here?" said Agnes. "Why, Tad, it's just 
like fairy-land ! " she exclaimed, forgetting everything in her admir- 
ation. 

" Any cool, shady place would be lovely after that old, hot, dusty 
road," said Lule, lying down on a mossy knoll. 

" It's the prettiest place I ever saw ! " Agnes exclaimed again. 
" Tad, let us name it something, and call it ours ; and not let any- 
body else know anything about it." 

" Name it ' Picayune Hollow,' " whispered Cassy, with a sly look 
at Lule. 

" We'll call it ' Fairy Hollow,' " said Agnes, laughing. " ' Fairy 
Hollow' isn't that just the name for it, Tad ? " 

They all agreed that it was ; and after spending a long, pleasant 
time at the swing, Tad went hunting, and the girls went with him \ so 
it was late when they reached home. The sun had nearly set, and 
Agnes and Cassy found that Miss Muggins had gone away again ; 
and the house was locked up. 



l868.] LITTLE PEARL. 221 

" Oh, dear, dear ! " exclaimed Gassy ; " what shall we do ? And 
where is Pearl and Bliss ? " and she began to cry. Agnes was in 
such dismay that she couldn't say anything. " Perhaps they are at 
the grove," said Gassy. " Let's go and see, Agnes." 

Just as she spoke, she saw Pearl and Bliss coming across the 
prairie, and with a cry of joy, she and Agnes ran and met them. 

" Pearl, where is Miss Muggins ? " asked Gassy. 

" I don't know," said Pearl. " She told us to go over to the 
grove to find you ; and she said if you wasn't there, for us to wait 
till you came ; and we didn't want to wait any longer when Tad 
and Lule got home, and said you'd come too." 

" She has gone off herself, now," said Agnes j " but, never mind ; 
we'll go and sit on the piazza, and wait. Father will be here pretty 
soon." 

They waited some time, and no one came. It began to grow 
dark, and they were tired and hungry. 

" It's strange somebody don't come," said Gassy. " I should 
think Tom would be here ; shouldn't you, Agnes ? " 

Tom was one of their hired men, who was always at the house, 
nights and mornings. 

" Father is always at home before this," said Agnes. " I'm afraid 
something has happened to him." 

" I'll doe after papa," said Bliss. " I tan find him." 

" Do keep quiet," said Gassy. " Hush ! Don't you hear a car- 
riage coming, Aggie ? " 

They listened ; but no sound broke the stillness, save the low 
piping of birds in the woods near, and the tinkling of a distant cow- 
bell. Awhile longer they waited, in fear and trembling, and still 
no signs of their father. 

" I can't stand it another minute," said Agnes ; " I know some- 
thing awful has happened. I'm going after him. Come, Gassy, 
take hold of Pearl's hand, and come quick." Agnes caught 
Bliss up in her arms, and ran down the road. 

" Now, Pearl, you take Bliss, that's a darling ; and go and stay 
with Mrs. Fenwick, till Gassy and I come back," said Agnes, as 
they came near the grove. 

" Hadn't we better go, and leave them there ? " said Gassy ; " and 
perhaps Tad or Ben will go with us to find father." 

" No," answered Agnes ; " I know just how it will be, if we do. 
Mrs. Fenwick will say that father is all well enough, and she won't 
let us go after him." 



222 LITTLE PEARL. [J une > 

But Pearl wouldn't go ; and Bliss cried, and clung closer to Ag- 
nes, and wouldn't let her put him down. 

" Oh, what shall I do ? " said Agnes. " How can I carry this 
great boy? Bliss, you shall get down, and go there." 

But Bliss put his arms so tight around her neck, and his little 
legs around her waist, that she could do nothing with him. So, 
they went onward, running till they would get out of breath, and 
then slackening their pace for a moment. When they had gone 
some distance, Bliss, who had been on his feet a part of the way, got 
so tired, that he could hardly take another step. 

" O Tassy, Tassy ! tate me up," he said. " I tired most to def." 

But Cassy had been helping Pearl along, and was so tired herself, 
that she couldn't take him up ; Agnes had carried him already, till 
she thought she could not carry him any longer. Every moment 
it was growing darker. It would not do to stop now ; and the last 
house that they had passed was a long way behind, and the next 
was a long way ahead of them, and Pearl and Bliss must be under 
some shelter before night ; so, Agnes took Bliss up in her arms 
again, and hurried on. Still, no signs of any one coming. Now, 
they knew that some evil had overtaken their father ; he had never 
been so late before. 

As they drew near the house that they had long had in sight, 
they saw a gentleman come out of the front-door, and go down 
toward the road. A thrill went through their hearts ; they stood 
quite still, looking eagerly. 

" Oh, it's not father," said Cassy ; " it's not father ; it's a great 
fat man, with red whiskers ! " 

" Perhaps he knows something about father," said Agnes. " Let's 
hurry and speak to him." 

Cassy ran ahead and met him first. " Have you seen my father ? " 
she asked, quite out of breath. 

" Your father, little one ? Who is your father ? " said the gentle- 
man. 

" Dr. Marsh." 

" Dr. Marsh ? Jupiter ! Do all you children belong to him ? " 

" Oh, do you know him ? " said Cassy. " Where is he ? Where 
is he?" 

"Why, I don't know, dear; but I guess you haven't lost him. 
Didn't he come home ? " 

" No ; and he never stayed away like this," said Agnes, who had 
just got there. " I know something has happened to him." 



i868.] 



LITTLE PEARL. 



22 3 




" Well, come up to the house, and wait till he does come," said 
the gentleman. " Give me that little chap," he said, taking Bliss, 
who was now sound asleep, out of Agnes's arms. 

" Yes, take him," said Agnes ; "and take her," pointing to Pearl, 
who had fallen to the ground, and could not get up. " But I want 
my father ! I want my father ! " and she and Gassy ran clown the 
road, crying. 

" Here, here ! " shouted the gentleman, trying to go after them ; 
but being very fleshy, and having Bliss in his arms, he couldn't run 
at all. " Here ! come back here, I say. I'll tell you about your 
father." 

The children stopped, and looked back. 



22 4 



WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 



[June, 



WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 



in. 




IHAT will you tell us about today, grand- 
ma ? " said Will, as the three sat, as usual, 
under the elms, just before tea. 

" Well, I don't know," began the old lacly ; 
but, before she got any farther, accident 
suggested a subject ; for, as if Polly really 
was Miss Muffit, " a big black spider " sud- 
denly "sat down beside her," and caused 
her to tumble off her grassy seat, with a 
loud " Ugh ! take the horrid thing away ; I hate 'em ! " 

" I'll scrunch him ; " and Will lifted his bat for the fatal blow, 
when grandma whisked the poor thing into her handkerchief, and 
took him out of danger. " Wait till I tell you something about 
him, and his relations ; then we'll see about killing him." 

So, Polly settled herself again, after carefully tucking up her 
skirts ; and Will laid down his bat, feeling sure he should want it 
directly. 

" In the first place, spiders have four, six, eight, or ten eyes " 

" That's the reason they see, and cut away before you can get a 

good hit at them," interrupted Will, glad to know that his failure on 

several occasions had not been entirely owing to his own want of 

skill. 

" Then they are little silk factories, and spin away, all within 
themselves. The silk is made from the juices of their food, prepared 
in a sort of laboratory they have ; then, it passes to a silk reservoir, 
ready for use ; and, when the creature wants a thread, it comes 
through the four or six tubes, or spinnerets, as they are called. 
There are many smaller tubes ; and threads of all sizes are made, 
to suit the want of the worker. These threads are finer than any 
human skill can make, and they are used for the divisions of the 
micrometer, an astronomical instrument ; though some wise 
observer says it takes four millions of the threads to make one as 
thick as a hair. 



i868.] WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 225 

" In some spiders, the threads are so strong, that small birds, as 
well as insects, are hung up by them ; and Brazilian spiders roll up 
leaves for nests, and suspend them by cords of their own making. 
The Bird-Catcher spider is a very large one ; its body is as big as 
a twenty-five-cent piece, covered with black and yellow hair; and its 
long, strong legs are as stout as a bird's quills. They make nests in 
hollow trees, in rocky crevices, and under dead leaves. In South 
America, they are still larger, being able, Dampier says, to cover 
eight or ten inches by spreading their legs ; and their claws are so 
strong, that they are often used for toothpicks, and are considered 
good for toothache. This sort doesn't spin webs to catch its food, 
but hides, and springs on its prey, killing it with one sharp bite." 

" Oh, dear ! I hope we don't have that kind here," cried Polly, 
curling up her feet, and looking anxiously at the imprisoned spider; 
for grandma had pinned the handkerchief against the tree. 

" No ; we have small ones of that species, but they are rare ; and 
don't hurt people, I believe. In Florida, there is a sort of spider 
which is eaten by the Indians ; and some one tells a funny story of 
having preserved a bottle-full in whiskey, to study, when one of the 
chiefs paid him a visit, and ate up the spiders, with great relish, 
thanking him for the treat." 

" What a treat ! ' pickled spiders ! ' Was there ever such a 
mess ? " and Will turned up his nose in high disgust. 

" As a contrast to these rather disagreeable fellows, there is the 
Golden Lactrodecta. She is a regular little fairy, delicate and 
pretty, and looking as if made of glass and gold. Her eyes and 
claws are black ; a dark orange stripe runs down her back, and 
her body looks as if she wore black lace over her yellow-satin 
gown." 

" How nice she must look," said Polly, admiringly ; for she liked 
fine clothes, as most little girls do. 

" This spider is very nimble and small, and not very common. 
Her tiny, brilliant web, spun between grass-blades, waves to and 
fro, shimmering in the sunshine ; and there she sits, like a little 
queen, in her golden suit, daintily eating the midges and gnats with 
which her table is spread. But, as soon as she dies, all her beauty 
fades ; and, in an hour, she is only a tiny, dull, black speck. There 
is another little member of the spider family, which you will like to 
hear about. I won't give you the long name, but tell you how 
bravely she goes to sea. She appears toward autumn, when the 
leaves begin to fall, and is seen on rivers and running streams, at 



226 WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. [June, 

night and morning. She places herself on a fallen leaf, which she 
bends up with strong cables, in such a skilful way, that no wind 
upsets it. In this she floats away, catching insects as her boat 
sails with the tide. She is just the color of the leaf, and one must 
look closely to see her ; for she is very quick, and it is so difficult to 
catch her, that some people think, that, like the gossamer spider, 
she can float away on the wind. At the point of the leaf, she spins 
a little tent to sleep in, and here she keeps a silken ball, full of tiny, 
yellow eggs. One seldom sees all this, but it is a curious sight ; 
and one can't help wondering what becomes of the solitary little 
sailor, sailing down the stream to some new country, with her 
babies rocked by the gentle swaying of her leafy boat." 

" I'd like to see that ship, and its rigging, and crew," said Will, 
who felt his respect for spiders much increased by this nautical fact. 

" I had a spider once, who lived in a corner of my room, and I 
used to amuse my friends with her. If I went toward her with my 
hand up, as if to brush her away, she would whirl and vibrate, faster 
and faster, till you no longer saw her, and would fancy she had 
dropped. Then, if we stepped back, she would slowly reappear, 
looking as if nothing had happened. My servant was much trou- 
bled because I left her there, and often threatened to sweep her 
down. So, I put her in a glass (my spider, I mean, not my girl), 
and painted a web and spider in the corner, and told Jane to make 
it tidy there, if she could. She joyfully whisked her broom, and 
looked bewildered when neither web nor spider fell, and couldn't 
understand the joke, till she had felt the walls." 

" What became of the old spinner ? " asked Will, after he had 
enjoyed grandma's trick. 

" I kept her under a glass, and watched her. She was a very 
common, drab spider, with white spots and long legs. She glued 
her eggs together in a silky bag, and always carried them about in 
her mouth. She didn't eat much, but hung from the top of the 
glass, swinging to and fro, as if getting her little ones to sleep. At 
the end of two weeks, she hung the bag by a strong thread, and, 
dropping to the bottom, lay there, waiting her fate. Soon, two or 
three hundred little spiders came sliding down, and, pouncing on 
the poor mother, ate her up. Then, they turned and ate each 
other ; though I put in gnats, and bugs, and flies, for them. Such 
little cannibals, I never saw ; for they went on, till there were but five 
spiderlings left. These moulted, and ate up their skins ; and then 
went at each other again. I was so angry at them, that I put a big 



i868.] WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 227 

one in, who finished them ; and that was the end of this bloodthirsty 
family. I couldn't understand the cause of this seeming cruelty to 
each other ; but, as so many are born at once, it is probably well for 
us that few live. One thing is to be said in praise of them ; the 
mother is the most faithful of parents, and never ceases to watch 
and guard the ball of eggs. She holds it under her with four legs, 
and rights stoutly with the others ; and, when the battle is over, she 
carefully examines her treasure, often spinning a new cover, and 
then takes it in her mouth again, to watch and wait with untiring 
patience, till her undutiful little ones are born." 

" Poor Mrs. Spider ! If I had one, I'd take her out before the 
bad children ate her up ; and I'd keep her all safe, and pet her 
with fat worms and nice flies," cried Polly, warmly. 

" I thought you hated spiders," said grandma, with a sly smile. 

" I don't now, only the big, fierce ones. I didn't know they 
were so pretty and sensible ; and I'm going to have a spider-bottle, 
and see them spin, and eat, and all the other queer things they do." 

" Isn't there a kind that makes people fly about, and dance like 
mad, when they bite them ? " asked Will, wishing to show off a little 
for Polly's benefit. 

" Yes, the Tarantula j the bite isn't poisonous, and the spider 
can be tamed till it eats out of the hand of its keeper. The story 
goes, that when a person is bitten, they grow sick, and sad, and 
weak, till music is made for them, when they dance wildly till they 
are cured. I believe there is no truth in it ; but a story is told of 
a man who hired a girl, at Naples, to try the effect of a bite. She 
agreed ; and, after a bottle, with the spider in it, had been applied 
to her arm, and a sharp prick assured her that she was bitten, she 
sat a little while, looking pale and wild, then suddenly she flew up, 
and danced frantically, till she could skip no longer j when she sank 
down, declaring she had never been so badly bitten before, and was 
afraid she would not recover. Then the man showed the bottle, 
and told her that there was no spider in it, but that he had pinched 
her arm ; and all the rest was her own imagination or cunning." 

"That was a good joke ! But, why don't people make things out 
of spider-silk, as they do out of cocoon-silk ? " asked Polly. 

" People have tried, and, I dare say, will succeed some day, 
since greater wonders have been wrought. A Monsieur Bon made 
a few pairs of gloves and stockings ; but they cost so much, he could 
not go on. It was found, that two hundred and eighty spiders did 
not yield more silk than one industrious silk-worm ; so the experi- 
ment was given up." 



228 THE LOGGERS; OR, [June, 

" Yes ; in my ' Gulliver,' I read how he went to a place where a 
spider-man told him he would soon have spiders trained to spin 
silk of all colors, for he was going to feed them on food that would 
make them do it," cried Will, firmly believing that Gulliver was a 
most reliable authority. 

" Miracles as curious as any in fairy tales sometimes come to pass; 
so, we may yet wear spider-silk, and teach them to spin for us as 
industriously as they do for themselves. Now, what shall we do 
with our prisoner ? " asked grandma. 

" Let him go," said Will, at once. 

" I want a look at it first, just to see if it's one of the pretty ones," 
added Polly, peeping carefully into the handkerchief, hoping to find 
the lady in black lace and gold-colored satin. 

A big black fellow darted out, ran straight up grandma's arm, 
and hid in the rough bark of the elm, after he had paused an instant 
on her white cap to wiggle his long legs, as if waving an adieu with 
a polite but inaudible 

" Thank you, ma'am ; thank you." 



THE LOGGERS; OR, SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS 
OF MAINE. 

(Continued from the May Number^) 

MONUMENT BROOK. 



AY i^th. Another favorable day ; and the 
men in fine spirits, as we are moving rapidly 
forward. At night, there are several watches, 
as the work constantly moves on. " No 
stoppin'," Jim says, " until the logs are in 
hailin' distance of the mills." My hour last 
night, for watch and work, was two ; and as 
I " crept out of the cedars," I found the 
moon shining brightly upon waters so clear, 
you could see the pebbly bottom. As I slowly moved around and 
around, taking in the whole beautiful scene, I longed for your tal- 
ent at sketching, that I might make a picture for our menagerie. 
Think of us, alone on this grand, broad lake ; the large circular 




l868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 229 

" boom " following the long, narrow raft, upon which live fourteen 
men. On the front is the huge capstan, with its six wind-spokes, 
or levers, and as many men, slowly winding in the warp. Farther 
back, a lazy smoke is rising from a smothered fire, which is keep- 
ing the tea hot for the "night watchers." If you could look within, 
you -would see six men sipping it, and some of them devouring 
huge slices of bread covered with apple-sauce. 

Upon one side of the raft are piled the boxes and barrels of pro- 
visions ; on the other, are skiffs and canoes, ropes, tools, wood, 
etc., etc. From the capstan, you may trace our warp, like a glitter- 
ing thread in the moonlight, reaching to a boat far ahead, where 
two men are carrying forward the anchor. Now, they have reached 
the limit of the warp; and, plash goes our "safety" into the 
gravelly bottom. 

The boat is dark, and the mens' faces are dark, and serious. 
You must paint them, in red flannel shirt-sleeves as that is their 
dress, even in the night-time and red will make a fine coloring in 
your picture. One has a slouched black hat ; the other, a cap, with 
visor down behind. On my right, is a sweet little cove, and a new 
birch canoe afloat, or, " merely tethered with a stone." You can 
imagine it owned by some Indian hunter, from the lake below, who 
has sought the lodge of his bright-eyed Minnehaha, in the forest. 
On the left, an owl is making himself heard for miles. / can't 
see him ; but perhaps you can, with your artistic eyes. Now, 
Frank, commence your picture, not forgetting the splendor of the 
moon-rays, and the silvery tinting ; the grand forests surrounding 
us, with their various shades of green ; some light, brilliant, and 
feathery others dark and funereal. 

On a point, at a little distance, stands an immense dead tree, its 
skeleton limbs stretched out over the water, one of which looks like 
a huge arm, imploring, or beckoning. Dead for years, but ma- 
jestic in proportions ! I observe, as we come nearer, that it is cov- 
ered with a drooping, feathery moss ; and the giant arms, stretched 
over the water, are festooned with the exquisite drapery with which 
nature sometimes garlands her dead. 

2$d. The last few days we have moved slowly. Adverse winds, 
or none at all, have been the order. One day, we " laid by " en- 
tirely, expecting to be driven on to the shore, the wind was so 
strong. Pete and I have spent some time in the forest, shooting 
small game ; or on the lake, fishing. Black ducks, sheldrakes, and 
wood-ducks, are becoming abundant, and taste nicely in the ab- 



230 THE LOGGERS ; OR, [June, 

sence of fresh meat. The water-fowl and small birds are, many of 
them, very beautiful, and of brilliant plumage. I will not stop to 
specify ; for, knowing your predilection for ornithology, I am re- 
solved to "take notes " of all I see, and bring you a catalogue of the 
birds of these wild woods. 

Solomon's seal, checkerberry, and bunchberries, are everywhere ; 
but I am most delighted with a delicate vine, that twines and creeps 
about in all directions scrambling up gnarled trees, or laying it- 
self lovingly among the May-flowers and scarlet berries, coquetting 
with, and greatly enhancing their beauty. Sometime, I mean to 
study botany ; for every day my love of flowers increases, and I 
long for their coming. Of shrubs, the arbor-vitae and high-bush 
cranberry are my favorites. The cranberry grows very much like 
the snowball, and the leaf is just the same ; the blossom white, 
and of the same form, but less double. But the glory of this shrub 
is the fruit. First, glossy green ; then, larger, and yellow, gradually 
changing to scarlet. When in this state, pure orange and scar- 
let commingled, with a sparkling brilliancy, you can conceive 
of nothing more beautiful. The large clusters of scarlet, shining 
fruit, from top to lowest branch, remain, long after the frost has 
destroyed the foliage. All along through the woods, in February, 
I saw birds feeding on the shrivelled fruit ; which even then retained 
the scarlet color, and contrasted prettily with the whiteness of the 
snow. As a dinner sauce, or made into jellies, it is nice, having 
more pungency of flavor than the ordinary cranberry. 

Ten days we have been reaching the outlet to this lake, a distance 
of some eighteen miles. Now we are near the Grand Lake stream, 
which connects this with Chepetnecook. As it is both narrow 
and rapid, of course, the boom and raft must be taken to pieces. 
Six or eight men have gone forward to construct a new boom at 
the mouth of the outlet, where it enters the next lake. 

Again, we are upon the shore to live awhile ; the men busy with 
the logs. The water is so high and rapid, that they pile up in 
every direction ; and it requires great strength and agility on the 
part of the men to keep them clear. They are oftentimes to their 
waists in water, dripping with wet, working from dawn until dark, 
these long days, and yet cheerful-, and regardless of hardship. It 
is really wonderful what men can endure, who live in the open air, 
and exercise vigorously. Pete and I keep the table well supplied 
with salmon-trout that would make an epicure's mouth water. I 
caught one yesterday that weighed four pounds. If you don't be- 



1868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 23! 

lieve it, come and see that's all. I truly think it would be worth 
a journey from Cambridge, to troll, and bring out a dozen of these 
shiners. Just think, then, of innumerable multitudes ! 

Pete caught a porgy today, that weighed seventeen pounds ; a 
splendid fish, but not to compare with the trout in delicacy of 
flavor. Oh, those delicious salmon-trout ! the most exquisite of 
all the finny tribe. For three whole days, I have fed upon them ; 
and yet now, at midnight, I am longing for a taste . I am resolved 
to salt, and take home a barrel ; although, of course, they will not 
be much like the article fresh from the water. 

2<)th. Our five miles of quick water and rapids are safely passed, 
the logs boomed, and again we live upon the raft. The same proc- 
ess of warping ahead is used here ; but as yet, we move slowly. 
This lake (Chepetnecook) is broad and long, surrounded by a 
growth of sumach, alders, choke-cherries, cranberries, thorns, etc., 
on the water-edge ; while, behind and above them, rise the glorious 
forest trees. There are many islands, and charming little coves, 
where water-lilies " lose their sweetness on the desert air." But, 
to me, the lake is less lovely than the Grand Lake ; it lacks its 
purity and grandeur ; for the banks are lower, and the bottom 
muddy. In a high wind, the water is rolled up into billows, that 
makes a fellow pretty sea-sick. 

Pete and I have much sport in shooting ducks, which every day 
become more and more abundant. Our plan is, to go off in a skiff, 
with small green trees stuck up along the edges, and green droop- 
ing all around. Once in a good position, we lie still, and wait. 
When a large flock are within range of our guns, both fire at the 
same time ; and we have taken thirty in one day. I have never seen, 
in any aviary, more beautiful specimens of " water-fowl." There is 
one, of a glossy green, with two delicate white feathers, like tiny 
ribbons, starting from the head, and flowing gracefully down over 
the back, parting, and drooping on each side of the tail. Loons 
are here, of a prodigious size, and splendidly mottled. I have 
secured for you a large collection and variety of eggs, I think ; for, 
strange as it seems, the sea-fowl come to these inland lakes for 
hatching. The cook has given me some boxes and cans he has 
done with, and I have packed them with the dead, dried needles 
from the pines. 

Yesterday, Pete and I wandered off to where we saw a smoke 
rising. It proved to be the home of a settler, who had come away 
here into the wilderness, " to make a farm, where the land cost 



232 THE LOGGERS; OR, [June, 

him nothing." A coarse-looking woman, and squad of shock- 
headed children, were planting potatoes in the soil burned over 
last autumn. A good crop is always sure the first season with- 
out dressing, with but little attention, and no fear of rot. The 
baby of the family too small to work seemed to busy him- 
self feeding a large black dog (as I supposed), in a coop. Upon 
inspection, the dog proved to be a young bear ! In a moment, I 
longed to own him for our menagerie ; and I did buy him ; but 
not without some parleying. Pete is to come back for him, and 
have the charge, perhaps, all the way to Boston ; for I have a fancy 
that a savage can better train the beasts of the forest. 

At present, bruin is about the size of your Newfoundland dog 
" Brave," gentle, but a very imp of blackness. If he only would 
live to reach Cambridge, with " Lulu," my stuffed monsters, ant- 
lers, eggs, etc., etc., I think our quarters would be quite attractive. 

June ^d. We have had heavy easterly winds ; and of the many 
booms upon this lake, two or three have broken, and are scattered 
upon the islands and shores, in every direction. There are many 
brooks and streams emptying into the Chepetnecook, and from 
each of any size, there are booms ; so, that at any time, we could 
see several. On Grand Lake, the brooks of any size are but two, 
Monument and Hay ; consequently, we were much alone there. 

*lth. Now commences our progress down the river. The logs 
are " turned over " (as it is called) here at the outlet, and the 
river is very rapid ; therefore, they pile up upon the banks and 
rocks in great confusion. Men are sent in advance to keep the 
current open, and to make what are called " shoots ; " or, in other 
words, to place the logs that pile upon the edge of the current in 
such positions, that logs from above will pass rapidly by. When all 
the logs are turned over from the lakes, the real driving com- 
mences. Men stationed in the rear turn all from the banks and 
rocks, and so work their way downward. Different crews are sta- 
tioned a few miles apart, or wherever there are falls or difficult 
places for driving. The dams are also carefully watched, as dur- 
ing a freshet they frequently " blow," or wash away. 

Queer names are given to some of the localities, " Meeting-house 
rips," " Teakettle rips," " Eel works," etc., etc., all having their 
separate crews to keep the channel clear. Immense "jams" of 
logs frequently take place, and it is dangerous business breaking 
through them. The water is high, and river rapid ; the men tell 
me, many hundred feet higher here, than where it meets the tide. 



l868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 233 

About as we have lived, so we live now, the same cook, the same 
regular meals, retiring and rising with the sun. Most of the men 
seem to enjoy the life they live ; those who have families, I notice, 
work the hardest. 

Several of the men have received letters today from the " up 
train ; " which is, an arrival of a loaded team of provisions, sent 
to us with much trouble over the soft and springy forest roads. 
Sacker is reading some " love-marks " from his " little gal ; " 
while I rejoice in a long letter from my mother, and shorter ones 
from several of my friends. I wish every man and boy was made 
as happy as I am by these " despatches." 

The Parson looks on the excited crew with his sad, calm face, 
hoping nothing, expecting nothing, until the great call that takes 
him to his family and his home. What an influence this man 
exerts among us ; what a philosophy he teaches. I could not feel 
willing to lead such a life as he does ; but truly, Frank, I would be 
willing to give more than half of my prospect of success in life for 
his firm, unfaltering faith in a glorious future. 

Irish Jim is making the men roar with his nonsense ; even the 
Parson is smiling ; and I must listen, for he really knows some- 
thing of ventriloquism. 

" Be jabers ! " shaking a new pair of trousers that came on the 
load, "be jabers! an' it's me'll shake the spach out iv these 
same (feeling in every pocket) ; not a word yet, is it ? (another good 
shake) ye won't spake, will ye, till yer own father ? " Presently, a 
voice comes from the deepest pocket. " I loves ye, dad, an' wants 
ye to come home ; an' bring lots o' gum." 

" That's you, Teddy, is it ? Spake up, my man ; an' tell us, 
wher's yer mither ? " 

" It's me you're wanthin'," spoke up a shrill female voice. " I'm 
the same Kathleen ye married in ould Irelan' ; but niver a minute 
for foolin' with the nasty ink." 

" Rade yer trouserloons ; that's my kin' o' love-letters. If I 
hadn't thought of ye, Jim, I wud never made thim for yer bandy 
legs. Kape clear iv the rum, Jim ! kape clear o' the whiskey." 

In this way, Jim consoles himself for the want of a " letther." 

I am often astonished at the good-nature that prevails, almost 
constantly. This out-door life has much to do in curing nervous 
irritability. I do not think I would shake my worst enemy if I 
had him in my power now, much as I once longed to flog him. 

2oth. We reached the Grand Falls this morning, which is 



234 THE LOGGERS; OR, [June, 

the highest falls the logs have to pass over on the St. Croix. 
Logs innumerable are here, coming in from the western river. If 
you will examine your map, you will see that the St. Croix, or 
Schoodic, divides here, the " eastern branch " forming the boun- 
dary between the British Provinces ; the western, stretching off 
towards the Penobscot, and the mountainous region in Maine. This 
branch is said to be almost a succession of beautiful lakes. 

22d. An immense jam is "piled " up just above the falls ; and, 
for more than half a mile above, the logs are piling and crash- 
ing together in this great freshet. The river narrows as it ap- 
proaches these grand falls, and the logs are curiously interlaced 
and bound together. Some I observe, fifty or sixty feet high, 
standing in upright positions, wedged in among rocks, or standing 
in among logs, criss-cross, or every way. 

The view of the "jam " from below the falls is terrific, in connec- 
tion with the maddening rush and roar of the waters. The falls 
themselves are high ; and just above them is this immense barrier 
of logs, pushed in the rear by a mile of the same, vainly striv- 
ing to force their way through and downward. But the jam is solid, 
and will never move, until men peril their lives to cut away the ob- 
struction. Hundreds of people have been up from the towns and 
villages to look at it. Sometimes, it appears, many logs have to 
be cut, and for quite a distance back, before the jam moves. At 
other times, and especially on the brink of a fall, the cutting of one 
log starts the whole ponderous mass. Here, and at this time, two 
logs, the " master-driver " thinks, must be cut at the same time ; 
but who is to do it ? Time is valuable ; more than twenty men 
are waiting to drive ; so, it is decided that today, the perilous cut- 
ting shall be done. 

I was never half as excited before. Who will venture ? No one 
can be compelled. The master-driver calls for volunteers, assuring 
them " they shall be drawn up safely before the jam starts." 

" Don't fear, boys ; if you mind my word, not a hair of your head 
shall be hurt." 

There is a great hush. The sun is shining brightly ; but we 
hear no voice, but the deep, angry bass tones of the waterfall. It 
seems a long time since the call for volunteers was made. No one 
moves ; but all look serious. Ah ! the Parson has stepped forth ; 
looking calm and dignified as ever, as they tie the rope around 
under his arms. Now follows who ? Irish Jim eyes twinkling, 
and face twitching from a queer medley of emotions. 



i868.] six MONTHS 'IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 235 

" Faith ! " he says, hitching up the trouserloons he had made talk ; 
" faith, an' iv the thing's got to be did, why, Jim's the boy to do it ; 
that's all ! " Grasping his axe, which stood by the trunk of a tree, 
" I can make this strike lightning (feeling the edge), as quick as 
any ither man. Come on ! come on ! " brandishing his axe like a 
shillalah. " Hurrah ! an' the howley Vargin kape us, an' brake 
up this murtherin' jam ! " 

After the ropes were adjusted, and men all stationed, ready 
for hauling them upon the high rocks upon the banks, a few of 
the drivers who had not been visible came rushing forward to offer 
their services, but the " forlorn hope " was complete, as they 
supposed, and they could not be taken. The "key-logs," or those 
supposed to cause the obstruction, were pointed out ; and the men 
clambered down to perform what might be the cause of their in- 
stant death. On each side of the river, the men ranged themselves, 
upon the high banks and rocks, looking on breathlessly upon the 
choppers below. Together the axes made the first stroke, and each 
after-cut was in unison. My nerves were wrought up to such ten- 
sion, that the roar of the falls seemed louder than Niagara ; and 
the twitter of the insects and ground-sparrows was an intolerable 
noise. 

Each stroke of the axe sounded clear, distinct, and solemn. 
Suddenly they ceased ; the men were drawn up, and the jam 
started. Tumbling, clashing, and leaping out of the water, the 
logs rush madiy over the falls, and on their downward course. 
The rush of the long-pent waters, the roar of the cataract, the 
crashing of the immense masses of logs, and the wild huzzas of 
the men, for awhile made the direst confusion. 

The jam had been quickly broken the men drawn up safely ; 
but, alas ! one poor fellow a green hand, and young who had 
carelessly ventured upon the logs, lost his foothold, and went down 
with the moving mass. 

Poor, poor fellow ! A merry, kind-hearted youth, who had won 
many of our hearts by his cheery, honest manner, and the singular 
beauty of his deep blue eyes. 

The eddy set the body into a little cove below ; and every man 
sorrowed, and ran to help, as we saw his light hair, for a moment, 
floating on the water. Tenderly .and cautiously, we lifted him into 
the boat ; but our help was of no avail. The Saviour and his angels 
had his loving spirit in their safe keeping ; and we could only care 
for the poor, bruised body. His sufferings were but brief; the first 



236 



THE LOGGERS j OR, 



[June, 




crush undoubtedly destroyed all consciousness. But he was an 
" only child, and his mother a widow." Who could endure to look 
upon such grief as her's must be ? 

Some one must carry the sad news ; some one must follow with 
the body. Who would go ? Not a man offered ; but many shrunk 
away out of sight, wiping their eyes with their red shirt-sleeves. 
There had befcn volunteers to risk their own lives ; but not one had 
courage to pierce the heart of the bereft mother. 

The body was arrayed in the best clothing any of us could con- 
tribute. A low cart was covered with quilts, of many thicknesses ; 
and poor Charlie, so full of life in the morning, lay helpless and 
dead upon it. He looks peaceful, almost smiling ; but how terri- 
ble death is ! So sudden, so relentless. 

One hour he has lain there, and no one offers to take him to his 
mother ; although the master-driver has offered any two of the 
men a month's wages if they will go. 



l868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 237 

" You was brave this morning, Jim ; and would like to see your 
children. You go." 

" Niver a ha'porth will I stir on that tack, any way, yer honor. 
Yer may tell me to face a big jam, or a starved bear, or a wild-cat, 
an' I'd considther ; but that mother ! niver, niver, yer honor." 

" S acker, where are you ? " 

" I'm here, sir. But I've been thinking, if my little nine-year-old 
gal were dead, how I'd feel ; an' I can't go." 

The day was warm ; and the perspiration started on the driver's 
uncovered head, as he ordered a horse to be harnessed, saying, he 
must go, if no one else would. 

At this moment, the Parson stepped forward, saying, " I have 
seen enough of death and of grief. The thought of that mother's 
suffering fills me with pain ; but it is not your duty to leave the 
* drive ' until it is in. I will go ; but pay I will not take." 

A row of small trees was set around the edge of the cart, 
and ropes drawn around it, for the road was rough. After the 
men had crowded around to take their last look at the body, it 
was carefully covered with our only white cloth ; and across, from 
tree to tree, to protect from the sun, we twined the beautiful creep- 
ing vine, that is so abundant here, and the pure white blossom of 
the wild pear. 

As this singularly-improvised hearse moved slowly away, the 
Parson repeated, in his clear, distinct tones, those glorious words : 
" We know that if our earthly house of this tabernacle be dissolved, 
we have a building of God, a house not made with hands ; eternal 
in the heavens." " I am the resurrection and the life : whoever 
believeth on me shall not die, etc., etc." 

Many of the men followed a few miles in simple procession ; and 
long after they were out of sight, I could hear, above the rush of 
waters, their strong, earnest voices, singing the quaint old melody, 
" I would not live alway." 



2 3 8 



MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 



[June, 



MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 




II. ENGLAND, UNDER THE ANGLO-SAXONS. 

MONG the barbarous nations of antiquity, 
the Germans seem to have been the most 
distinguished by their bravery and love of 
liberty ; and, of all the German tribes, the 
Saxons (who had taken possession of the 
German coast, from the mouth of the Rhine 
to Jutland,) were the most warlike, and the 
terror of the neighboring nations, on account 
of their frequent piratical depredations. 

They had had an eye on Britain for some time ; and were, no 
doubt, vastly pleased when they were invited by the Britons them- 
selves to come over, and help them against the bold marauders of 
the North. So, in the year 449, Hengist and Horsa, two Saxon 
brothers, with sixteen hundred of their tribe, sailed away for Brit- 
ain, and soon put to flight the Picts and Scots ; but having found 
victory over them so easy, determined to turn their arms against 
those whom they had come to protect, and to occupy the land they 
had been invited to defend. It would be tedious to relate the his- 
tory of this struggle ; but it is but fair to tell you that the story of 
the two brothers, the romance of Vortigern and Rowena, and the 
wonderful adventures of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round 
Table, that are related in connection with the Saxon invasion, are 
by some historians believed to " belong to an age of fable that lies 
between two ages of truth." However this may be, one thing is 
certain. The Saxons were invited to Britain, and went ; though it 
must be owned, that they wore out their welcome, by staying and 
inviting other German tribes, until at last, the unhappy Britons fled 
some to Cornwall ; some to the mountains of Wales, where their 
descendants still live ; and others to the northern coast of France, 
which, in remembrance of their dear, native land, they called Brit- 



l868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 239 

tany. And it is a curious fact, that even to this day, the peasant 
of Bretagne can understand the mountaineer of Wales, and the 
Welshman the Breton, when each speaks in his native tongue. 
The few who remained were too weak to resist ; and their language 
and customs were soon absorbed in those of their conquerors. 
Their country was divided into seven kingdoms ; and this period, 
known as the Saxon Heptarchy, continued until Egbert united these 
petty monarchies into one. Meantime, the whole kingdom had 
gradually embraced the Christian religion; and "the country which 
had been lost to view as Britain, reappears as England," or Angle- 
land. 

This was about the year 800, and nearly four hundred years after 
the Romans withdrew from the island. 

A mixed race now inhabited England ; and to this compound 
nation of native-born Britons, German-born Saxons, Jutes, Angles, 
and Saxons English-born, the compound name of Anglo-Saxon, has 
been given. 

The history of England, for two hundred years after the accession 
of Egbert, is the record of an almost uninterrupted warfare between 
the Anglo-Saxons and the Danes, so-called. I say so-called, be- 
cause these Danes were originally Saxons. You will remember, 
that only a part of this great tribe went with Hengist and Horsa 
to Britain. The rest remained in quiet possession of their German 
home, until Charlemagne, in 768, ascended the throne of France. 
I should like to tell you of the great deeds of this magnificent em- 
peror ; but the subject belongs more properly to French history. 
He did good service for the cause of Christianity, in long and 
bloody wars against the Saracens. And, indeed, he seemed to think 
his special mission was the conversion of all Pagans ; though I 
am inclined to believe, that he must have realized, before he had 
done with it, that the sword was the very worst means he could 
have used for the purpose. His energies were principally directed 
against the Saxons ; for it sorely tried his Christian zeal, that, 
though he had made his name a terror to the heathen of far-away 
countries, there should still be, close to his own capital, a race of 
idolaters, who rejected the one true God, for the worship of Woden 
and his ravens, and Thor with the great hammer. 

This handful of warriors, brave as they were, were no match for 
the illustrious Charlemagne ; and, fleeing from his persecutions, 
they escaped to the coasts of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway. 
From that time, they are known in history as Danes, Norsemen, or 



240 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [June, 

Northmen ; and as, by law, the oldest son inherited the family lands, 
the younger were driven to the sea for their support ; and it seems 
a just retribution, that, as in former times, the Saxons took posses- 
sion of Britain by pirate law, so, later, these sea-rovers, descended 
from the same stock, visited upon England the same atrocities. In 
the middle of the ninth century, these vikings, as they were called, 
ranged over the English channel, now in France, anon in England ; 
and when, in 872, Alfred, the grandson of Egbert, began to reign, 
he found his kingdom in a sad state. 

Poor Alfred ! It was a legacy he did not covet. He had been the 
idol and constant companion of his father, who took him on a journey 
to Rome, when he was only six years old. The mind of the thought- 
ful boy was deeply impressed by the sights he saw in that magnifi- 
cent city ; and his father, seeing the dawning ambition of his child, 
sent him again to Rome, to spend some time in study there, thus 
wisely laying the foundation of the future greatness of his son, and 
the future glory of his kingdom. But the time was coming when 
old Ethelwolf s darling must leave the Saxon poems he loved to 
recite, and the Latin grammar, over which, strange as it may seem 
to the schoolboys of today, he hung with delight. When Ethelred, 
his next older brother, came to the throne, he wrongly took Alfred's 
portion of the money left by their father. But Alfred was too noble 
to cherish anger against him for this ; so, he helped Ethelred in 
all his battles against the terrible Danes ; and once, in particular, 
when the enemy were pressing in on all sides, and Ethelred was 
obstinately mumbling his prayers in his tent, this brave boy, by his 
courage and boldness, saved the day for England. Ethelred was 
soon after killed in battle ; and, as by the will of their father, Alfred 
had been named as the final heir of the kingdom, there was nothing 
for the young student to do but to accept the trust. So, he sadly 
buried his brother, and sorrowfully shutting his beloved books, 
went out to fight the Danes. 

This Was in 872 ; and, though Alfred was only twenty-two years 
old, he fought as well as he studied ; and not only conquered 
Guthrum, their chief, but converted him ; and having settled him 
on English soil, he set about framing a wise code of laws, to make 
of Saxon and Dane a united and happy people. 

He made it as great a crime to kill a Dane as to kill an English- 
man ; passed rigid laws against pillage, to which the country had long 
been given over and at last, won over his rough subjects to such 
obedience, that, it is said, he even hung up golden bracelets by the 



1868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 24! 

wayside, without fear of robbers. Then, in the interval of peace 
which his valor had secured, he went back to his studies with re- 
newed devotion ; not merely for his own pleasure, but that he might 
educate his people. He invited learned men to his court, estab- 
lished schools, commanded all the youth to be "put to learning till 
they could read English writing ; " and gave places of honor to 
those only who had made some progress in knowledge. He said 
that " a king's tools to govern with, are, that he should have his 
land well peopled, and that he should have prayermen, workmen, 
and armymen." He saw to it, that these three classes were well 
represented in his kingdom, and inspired them by his example to 
labor diligently for the improvement of the rest. With his prayer- 
men, he studies incessantly. Night and day, though often suffer- 
ing from terrible pains, to which from childhood he was subject, he 
reads and talks with them ; and together they translate from Latin 
into Saxon many useful books for his people. See how modest 
he is in telling of this. He says : " I did it, word for word, as I 
had learned it from my prayermen ; so that I understood it as well 
as my understanding would allow me." 

With his workmen, he repairs roads, rebuilds London ; and con- 
structs ships in which they may meet the northern pirates on 'their 
own element. Of his armymen, he is always the intrepid leader, 
and they find plenty to do ; for, after twelve years of peace, Hast- 
ings, a famous viking, brought the Danes again to ravage England ; 
but in 89 7, the Saxon white-horse was finally triumphant, and chased 
the Danish raven 'screeching home. 

Four years later, Alfred died. " Alfred the Truth -Teller^" as his 
subjects fondly called him ; for, in the books he wrote for them, he 
" published no wild stories, such as are found in other Saxon writers 
who came after him." " Alfred the Great," said later generations, 
who admired him as the hero of fifty-six pitched battles. Alfred the 
Pious, the Noble, the Modest, the Good, we say, when we read such 
words as these from his own pen : " Whilst I lived, I wished to live 
worthily ; and after my death, to leave to the men who were after 
me, my memory in good works." 

And the good king had his wish ; for, though " Fine Scholar " 
and " Lion Heart " came after him to the throne of England, there 
was none in whom all the virtues were united as in this one ; and, 
above all, the memory of Alfred the Great is still fondly cherished ; 
and his character may well stand as a model for all youth of 
Anglo-Saxon descent. COUSIN ALICE. 



242 



AUNT SUE S SCRAP-BAG. 



[June, 



5UNT 




ARMIES OF THE WORLD. At 
the present day, the standing armies 
of the world are larger than they 
have been since the great wars of 
the first Napoleon. The army of 
the United States now numbers 
56,000 men in all. For the extent 
of our territory, this is the smallest 
army in the world ; and we have 
reason to congratulate ourselves 
upon the fact. 1 " The cost of our 
army is $100,000,000, or nearly 
$2,000,000 per 1,000 men. The 
army of France has been fixed at 
750,000 men in the " active army," 
and 550,000 in the " passive," the 
latter being named the National 
Garde Mobile. Total, 1.300,000 
men available for war. A contin- 
gency of 100,000 men is annually 
available to recruit the army. The 
British army numbers about 200,000 
men. The bulk of this army is at 
home, Ireland absorbing about 25,000 
good troops. Of the colonies or 
foreign possessions, India takes the 
largest body of troops ; the Domin- 
ion of Canada next ; Australia next. 
The Prussian army numbers about 
600,000 men. The Italian army 
now numbers 215,000 men, and is a 
very effective one. In one of its 
arms, the Bersaglieri, or rifle battal- 
ions, it excels even the French army, 
whose Zouaves were supposed to be 
the first light infantry in the world. 
The Austrian army numbers about 
700,000 men ; its cavalry is said to 



be very fine. The Government 
breeds its own horses, and thus 
secures good mounts. The Russian 
army numbers about 800,000 men ; 
it could be quickly increased to 
1,200,000 in time of war. It is 
spread all over the empire, from the 
Baltic to the Caucasus. The Span- 
ish army is small, not exceeding 
80,000 men; but it is very well clothed 
and disciplined. It is also receiv- 
ing breech-loaders. The number 
of men maintained in the standing 
armies of civilized nations is not 
less than 3,000,000. All these are 
snatched away from useful indus- 
tries and condemned to idleness and 
a vicious life, while the laboring 
people are taxed for their support, 
and for the costly armaments they 
require. 

THE highest mountain pass in 
the world is the Ivy Gamin, 20,459 
feet. The highest peak in the 
world is Mount Everest, 29,002 feet. 
The highest permanently inhabited 
place in the world is Ladak, 15,117 
feet. The greatest mountain height 
visited by man is beyond Ivy Gamin, 
22,359 f eet - The highest point at 
which a man can ascend, without 
having his health seriously affected, 
is 16,500 feet. The highest bal- 
loon ascent yet made is 40,000 feet. 

THE first bus in America was 
Columbus. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



243 




answers correctly the greatest num- 
ber of the April puzzles, although 
she lacks four of the entire list, and 
wins her second prize, the gold 
pen. 

QUESTIONS, ENIGMAS, CHARADES, 
ETC. 

147. Wly first approached the castle 

walls, 

Early that summer morn, 
" What ? ho ! " the warder 

loudly cries, 
And quickly blew his horn. 

The warriors hasten to the 

gate, 

And to the hall they bring 
My first j who, in despair and 

rage, 
My second off doth fling. 



"Go, search," he cried, "by 
Agnes' Well, 

Your Lord is lying there, 
Alone, but for the little Page, 

Who of his cup did share ! " 

Then, Knights and Squires 

and men-at-arms 
Pushed to St. Agnes' Well, 
But Baron bold, and gentle 

Page, 
Had only lips to tell 

How my whole was mingled 

with the wine 
They drank at Ronald's 

Tower. 
Then, with wail and woe, they 

bore the dead 
Home to My Lady's bower. 
M. C. Fletcher. 

148. I am composed of 19 letters: 

My i, 9, 10, is gained. 

My 7, 13, 6, is a liquor. 

My 1 6, 2, 3, 4, is an article of 
food. 

My 8, 9, 2, n, 15, is also an 
article of food, that is fre- 
quently served up \^ith the 
other. 

My 12, 5, 14, 17, is some- 
thing that flies. 

My 4, 1 8, 19, is of great 
importance to farmers. 

My whole is honored by all 
true Americans. 

S. M. B. 

149. I am composed of 10 letters : 

My 9, 7, 8, 9, 10, is a town in 
Austria. 



244 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[June, 



> 5> 8, 7, is a domesti< 
produce. 
My i, 4, 2, 3, is a part of a car 

riage. 

My 2, 3, 10, 6, is meagre. 
My whole was one of the 
most beautiful cities in the 
world. 

Perseverance 

150. I am composed of 17 letters : 

My 9, i, 2, 16, 13, 7, ii, is 
much used by builders. 

My 17, 15, 14, is a product of 
the destructive distillation 
of wood. 

My 5, 6, 10, 12, is a state of 
confusion. 

My 3, 4, 8, is a line of light. 

My whole is said to be the 
name of a man much talked 
about at the present time. 
Willie D. Holden. 

151. When a certain Irishman was 

once sailing on my first, he 
ate my whole, and drank my 
second without spilling it, 
while he stood on my third. 
Joe Kose. 

152. My first (two syllables) is the 

same as my whole, and must 
have some of my second. 
My whole every one is. 

Ego Ipse. 

153. My first is a vehicle ; my sec- 

ond, transposed, is a judge ; 
my whole is a cordial. Cis. 

154. My first used my second to 

draw my whole, a flower. 
May of Irvington. 

155. Transpose a king mentioned 

in the Bible into a verb. 

H. C. Hazen. 

156. Transpose a shield into part of 

a stove. Fred. 

157. Entire, I am a bunch of flow- 

ers ; transpose, and I am a 
bird ; curtail and transpose, 
and I am a fish ; now behead 
and transpose, and I am a 
girl's name. Ixia. 



158. My first (two syllables) desig- 

nates a man ; add an adjec- 
tive, and show his condition. 
K. C. 

159. Add to something mighty a 

pronoun and a covering from 
the storm, and make what we 
all should be. Ego Ipse. 

NAMES OF GENERALS IN THE LATE 
SOUTHERN ARMY ENIGMATI- 
CALLY EXPRESSED. 

1 60. The value of stuffing. 

161. Cast a conjunction. 

162. Jack's weight. 

163. Any one who is paying atten- 

tion to a lady, take notice ! 

Kate M. 

ANAGRAMS. 

164. Wet cash. Fred. 

165. Men's money. Violet Forest. 

166. Cheat trials. Double You See. 

167. Scale its chin. Tommy. 

1 68. Heart bolt. F. F. 

169. Should fire. Max. 

170. What word of two syllables 

did the discoverers of Can- 

dia say on first beholding it ? 

Hero. 

171. When are clocks and workmen 

alike ? Blue Bell 

172. What king rules in America ? . 

Eddie E. Perkins. 

173. Curtail a color and leave a 

flower. G. T. McKinney. 

174. Behead a coin and leave a pill. 

Ixia. 

BIRDS AND ANIMALS ENIGMATI- 
CALLY EXPRESSED. 

175. A boy's nickname, an interjec- 

tion, and part of a chain. 

C. F. W. 

176. Not the whole, and part of a 

mountain range. C. F. W. 

77. A domestic animal and a hill. 
Ned W. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



2 45 



178. Part of a ship's rigging, and 



what rowdies like. 



181. O 5010. 
182. 



E. E. W. 
Quaker. 



179. Poniscusi dan stirdust rea het 

gastreet seemine ot redpin- 
fish. P. IV. 

1 80. 5050. A. R. T. 




835 
1333 



RE It BLUE 
GREEN 



nswers must reach me before 
the $>th of July. Those received 
later 'will not be credited. 

Uglr* Send all communications in- 
tended for the PUZZLE DRAWER to 
"Aunt Sue," Box in, P. O., Brook- 
lyn, N. Y. 

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN APRIL 
NUMBER. 

88. Autoperipatetikos. 

89. Little Nell. 

90. (i) N-chanting ; (2) E-quipping; 

(3) S-chewing ; (4) M-broil- 
ing ; (5) A-lighting ; (6) N- 
acting, X-acting ; (7) D-rid- 
ing ;> (8) E-racing; (9) X- 
plaining ; (10) D -facing. 

91. Yield not to misfortunes, but 

surmount them. (Begin at 
the Y, and follow the letters 
downwards, then to the left, 
etc.) 

92. Haste. The, as, hat, he, ah ! 

as, set, hate, at. 



93. Theme. Them, me, thee, he, 

the, hem, meet, mete. 

94. Approbate. 

95. Pyrotechincs. 

96. Corporeal. 

97. Incapacitates. 

98. Obeisance. 

99. Sustentation. 

100. Charitable. 

10 1. Arrangement. . 

102. Historian. 

103. Lighthouse. 

104. Emblazon. 

105. An honest man is the noblest 

work of God. 

1 06.. Amber, bream. 

107. Latin, altin. 

108. Victoria, ictoria. 

109. Hart, rat (zebra, bear, added). 



246 



AUNT SUES PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[June, 



1 10 Spear, pear. 
in. Mankind. 

112. Damsel. 

113. Bungo.' 

114. Oneiromancy. 

115. 1 6 (51 = VI = six, etc.). 

1 1 6. Most riches may be hard to 

gain, but are still more diffi- 
cult to keep. (M ostriches 
may bee hard 2 ga in butt 
Rs till M oar difficult 2 Key 
P.) 
Of the above Puzzles, 

BELLE answers all but 100, 107, 113, 
114. 

F. R. S. answers all but 90, 92, 

107, 112, 114. 

Florian answers all but 88, 90, 92, 
100, 106, in, 114. 

Joe Kose answers all but 88, 90, 92, 
93, 102, 1 06, 107, 1 08, 114. 

Robbie Eddowes answers all but 88, 
90, 92, 106, 107, 108, 109, 
in, 113, 114. 

C. W. J. answers all but 90, 91, 92, 
93, 100, 102, 107, 1 08, in, 
114, 115. 

Gilbert answers all but 90, 92, 93, 
97, 99, 100, 1 06, 107, 1 08, in, 
114, 115. 

Freddie answers 89, 94, 96, 97, 98, 
99, 101, 103, 104, 105, no, 

III, 112, Il6. 

Cicero answers 89, 91, 94, 96, 103, 
no, 116. 

Myrrha answers 89, IQI, 103, no, 
in, 116. 

Millar d F. R. answers 89, 103, 108, 
no, 116. 

Harry of the West answers 116. 

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 

The original Puzzle Drawer 
intended for June, went astray ; 
where is a puzzle which I defy 
any of the Merry's to solve. I beg 



all my correspondents to believe 
that the notices to them in that lost 
MS. were just what they wanted 
to know ; and that, if I have of- 
fended any of them, I forgive them. 
I remember, I told Saggitaiv " how 
to get at anagrams." Print the 
anagram on a piece of card (for 
instance, " Sly ware ") ; then cut 
the letters separate, and twist 
them about until you find out the 
original word ("'lawyers"). And I 
told somebody that original puzzles 
were acceptable, but that those as 
old as the " buckwheat cakes " and 
butterfly were not. I told M. C. 
Fletcher that I was only waiting to 
know if her Charades, etc., were 
original, to thank her for them. I 
assured a Morning Glory that her 
puzzles were much too easy. I 
thanked Ternpy for a goodly lot of 
riddles, and his father for the share 
he had in the " bell letter." And I 
thanked all the Cousins who had 
taken the trouble to send enigmas, 
etc. I praised Czrm?forthe gener- 
ous manner in which he wrote down 
the figures of the puzzles he did not 
solve, as well as those which he did 
find out ; saying, that some Cousins 
sent me lists of answers, all so 
mixed and cramped into a little bit 
of paper, that it gave me consider- 
able trouble to sort them out. If I 
have neglected to answer any ques- 
tion, my correspondents will excuse 
me, under the circumstances, and 
ask the question again. 

M. A . Price. The dominical let- 
ters are used to mark the Sundays 
throughout the year. They are of 
use as a means of discovering on 
what day of the week any day of 
the month falls in a given year. 
Rules and tables for finding them 
are given in prayer-books, brevia- 
ries, etc. I do not know " the origin 
of the custom of strewing flowers 
upon graves," but I should think it 
was as old as death and flowers and 
love. 



i868.] 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



247 




" APRIL showers bring May flow- 
ers," says the old rhyme, but this 
year it does not hold true; and unless 
May showers bring June flowers, 
I don't know what we shall do. 
Nature seems to have made the 
same mistake with her posies as 
we once did with ours, and planted 
them so deep, they won't come up. 
Such a cold, snowy, rainy, unspring- 
like month, is rather disappointing 
to those who love sunshine and 
like to make life a sort of perpetual 
picnic in summer time. If birds 
sing sweetest after rain, as the 



so, as it is one of the sweetest and 
most useful of the virtues, let us wel- 
i come whatever nourishes it. 

Two true stories are sent this 
month ; and as both have a little 
moral, we will hear them. 

DEAR MERRY'S, A young lady 
of my acquaintance lost her purse, 
with eleven dollars in it. Not a 
large sum ; so, after a few inquiries, 
she gave it up, never expecting to 
see it again. But a little while after 
there came a letter, not very well 
spelt or written, yet sensible and 
straightforward, telling her that 
Michael Donovan had found her 
purse and spent a dollar advertising 
it. As no one answered the adver- 
tisement, he now wrote to the ad- 



pretty Swedish proverb says, what [ dress on a card which was in the 
a concert we shall have by and by. 
Now they seem to twitter, inquir- 
ingly, and turn their little heads up, 
as if asking, " Why don't the sun 
shine ? " Squirrels pop out, eat a 
nut, take an observation of the 
weather, and pop in again disgusted; 
dandelions shut their golden eyes 
very early, and the irises hide under 
their green umbrellas. 



It is all right ; and I dare say 
erybody's patience will be th 
greener and stronger for the rain 



purse, thinking Miss F. might know 
about it. The writer's address was 
given, and Miss F. and her father 
went to recover the lost purse. 

They found a poor house in a 
poor street, and up in one poor 
room, a woman and a flock of little 
children. Miss F. soon proved her 
right to the property, and offered a 
reward for their care of it. 

" Thank ye kindly, ma'am ; but 



everybody's patience will be the! Mike is away, and I'm thinking he 

tin ; i wouldn't like me to take anything 



248 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. [June. 



for just being honest. He works 
for his living ; so, if ye like to pay 
the dollar he spent advertising, it 
will be quite enough." 

Now Miss F.'s father is one of 
the famous men of America, and I 
fancy many people would have been 
proud to receive the smile he gave 
poor Mrs. Donovan, as he said, 
looking at the poor place, the many 
children, and remembering that 
" Mike worked for a living," yet 
wanted no reward for "just being 
honest," 

" We happen to be the strongest, 
so I think we will insist on leaving 
something to prove our thanks." 

So " something " was left, and has 
not been rejected, I believe ; but 
Mike Donovan's name has been 
uttered with regard by one of the 
most eloquent pairs of lips in Amer- 
ica, and I think a very sweet little 
thing happened when the great man 
felt and acknowledged the beauty of 
the poor man's honesty. 

The other story is this : An old 
lady was waiting for a car, at the 
corner of Temple Place. She had 
lost the sight of one eye, and the 
other was very dim ; so dim, that she 
found it hard to read the names on 
the cars, and was feeling her loss 
very keenly as she stood there, look- 
ing anxiously as each passed, and 
wishing some one was near to help 
her. A warmer heart never beat than 
that which ached a little just then 
under that old lady's black cloak. 

As she turned round to shield her 
poor eyes from the sun, she saw 
something which made her forget 
her own loss in sympathy for a 
greater. Just behind her stood a 
poor man, with no eyes at all ; quiet 
and patient, holding a little placard 
before him, and letting his sad face 
appeal to passers-by better than 
any words could do. The old lady 
couldn't read the story on the little 
board, but the empty sockets told 
ner enough ; and, never stopping to 
think whether she had money 
to get home, she took one of the 
man's hands, and folded something 
in it, saying, in her motherly voice, 



" My friend, it r s only a dollar ; 
but I wish it was more, for I am 
nearly blind myself, and I feel for 
you very much." 

The blind, patient face lighted up, 
as if sudden sunshine had touched it; 
and groping for the kind hand that 
helped him, he said, so gratefully, 

"Oh, God bless you, ma'am; 
it's a great deal to me ; and I thank 
you, I thank you." 

" How did you lose your sight ? " 
asked the old lady, forgetting all 
about her car. 

" At Cedar Mountain ; a ball put 
both out at once, ma'am." 

" Have you any family ?" 

" No, ma'am ; not a soul in the 
world to be a burden to, thank the 
Lord," said the poor fellow, think- 
ing first of others, in spite of his own 
helplessness. 

"How do you live, then ? " 

" Oh, a person I know leads me 
here and takes me home again. 
Folks are good to me, and I get on." 

"Do you get much,standing here?" 

"Some days, nothing at all ; other 
days, I do pretty well. I hate to 
beg, but there don't seem any other 
way just yet." 

As the old lady was wondering 
if she could do anything more, who 
should pass but her daughter ; and 
by the time she had heard the story 
and added her mite, the car came. 

" Good-by, my friend ; I hope you 
will get on. I shall stop, if I see 
you, next time I come this way; and 
I shan't forget you," said the old 
lady, as the man groped to find and 
shake her hand again. 

When the old lady told me the 
little incident, saying how rich she 
felt with her one eye after that, and 
how soon she was taken care of 
after she had done her best for 
another, I thought how grateful 
those should be who possess both 
eyes ; how patient they should be 
with the afflicted, and how gladly 
they should give, even of their little, 
to those who have less, feeling sure, 
that as they pity and help, they will 
be pitied and helped again. 

COUSIN TRIBULATION. 




VOL. 



I.] 



JULY, 1868. 



[NO. 7. 




Susan, 
saying 



ROBERT GAFFIELD. 

O come out on the shore with me, Nellie, dear, 
and help find some shells for Miss Susan. Win- 
ter's coming soon, you know," said Robert Gaf- 
field to his little sister. 

" Oh, dear ! what a fuss ! " sighed Nellie. 
"We've got lots and lots of shells for Miss 
I want to stay in and play party. Miranda Jane's just 
how do ' to the rest. I don't believe it's the shells you 
want half as much as to get me out. You always do, when father 
comes home so ; " and the little girl of seven staggered across the 
room, in imitation of her drunken father. " What makes him walk 
so, Robby ? Is he so tired, 'cause he can't get no fishes ? " 

" Hush, hush ! Nellie ! Father isn't well ; and mammy has the 
headache." 

" Why don't Dr. Lane give him some medicine, then ? some strong 
medicine, so that he can walk better ? Just like he gave you, Robby, 
when you had the rematick fever ? " 

" Oh, bother ! " said Robby. " Don't ask me any more questions, 
Nellie ; but put on your warm sack, and come out with me." 

" Oh, what a fuss ! " again said Nellie ; " if I must, I must. It's 
a good chance to do as I'd be done by. That, Robby says, is short 
for the Golden Rule. But I won't always be hushed and hushed 
about father ; I'll ask Dr. Lane for some medicine for him, the 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by II. B. FULLER, in the Clerk's 
Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



250 ROBERT GAFFIELD. U u tyj 

next time I see him. Good-by, darlings," kissing her hand to her 
" party," which consisted of dolls, of home manufacture, of paper 
and cloth. " I'm so glad you don't any of you have headaches and 
shaky legs." 

Thomas Gaffield, the father of Robert and Nellie, was a fisherman 
by occupation. He lived in a poor, tumble-down cottage, on a 
point of land about a mile from the town of Westport, where he had 
a very good market for his fish, whenever he was not too drunk to 
catch and sell them. His wife, a pale, broken-spirited woman, had 
little courage or energy to meet the trials of her lot, and depended 
very much upon Robert, who was a good, industrious lad, twelve 
years of age. Robert went to school in Westport ; but, his poor 
clothes, frequently ragged and dirty, made him an object of scorn 
and derision to some of his thoughtless, cruel schoolmates. He 
was often greeted with shouts of " What's the price of rags, today ? 
Any goods for the market ? How's old Gaffer Grey ? " and similar 
questions, which boys, with more animal spirits than conscience, 
mistake for wit, little heeding the effect they have upon the objects 
of their sport. 

Some of the lads protested against this treatment of Robert, par- 
ticularly Charlie Hall, brother of " Miss Susan," who was a fine, 
manly boy, a year younger than Robert. " It's mean," he said, one 
day, when two or three of the boys had been teasing Robert ; " he 
can't help his clothes. They're poor. His mother's sick half the 
time, and his father " 

" Oh, we all know what Gaffer Grey is ; don't tell us. I guess 
his mother could mend his rags, if she had a mind to. We're only 
chaffing him for his good. I'm sure it's only acting out the Golden 
Rule our Sunday-school superintendent was talking about the 
other day ; isn't it, Sam ? " asked one of the boys of another who 
stood by. 

" That's so ! Ha ! ha ! Very good. Dr. Lane hardly expected 
you to be one of the first to practice upon it, though." 

Charlie bit his lip, to keep down angry words ; and when he could 
speak calmly, said, " It's not Robert's fault, at any rate ; and I 
end as I began. It's mean to twit a poor fellow for what he can't 
help." 

Robert overheard the boys, and went home that night in a very 
unusual frame of mind. He did not speak, unless spoken to ; and 
then he gave the shortest answers possible. His mother's atten- 
tion was at last attracted to him, by hearing Nellie use her favorite 



l868] ROBERT GAFFIELD. 251 

expression, when anything troubled her : " Oh, what a fuss ! " for 
the child had vainly been trying to interest her usually willing 
listener, in an account of her doll-party, which had at last come off, 
much to her satisfaction. 

" Why, Robby, dear ! What is the matter ? " asked his mother, 
anxiously. " Are you sick ? " 

" No ; but couldn't you mend me up a little ? The boys all 
mock and laugh at me so, I'm most tired of it j and I should like 
to look a little better myself. It makes one feel more comfortable." 

" That reminds me, Robby, that Miss Susan gave me a real nice 
suit of her brother Jack's. I meant to fix 'em over for Sundays ; 
but, if you'll be careful, you can wear 'em to school. Some day, 
when my head don't ache, I'll do it." 

" Does your head ache this day, mammy ? " asked Nellie ; while 
Robert, who knew from past experience, that " some day " was long 
in coming, added, " Couldn't you begin tonight, mother ? I'll rip 
for you." 

" To be sure I can," answered his mother, quite eagerly ; and 
going to a clothes-press in the next room, she took out the suit, 
and tried it on. Much to Robert's satisfaction, she found that the 
clothes needed so little alteration, that she could easily have them 
in readiness for the next day. 

That night, the first snow of the season fell ; but the sun shone 
beautifully bright in the morning, and Robert walked off to 
school in high spirits, followed by the admiring gaze of his mother 
and sister \ and thinking, as he went, "now Charlie will be pleased; 
now the boys can't tease me about my old clothes.'' When he 
reached the school-yard, he found several of the boys there ; for 
they had just come from skating on a neighboring pond, the pleas- 
ure of that sport enhanced from their being obliged to sweep off 
the snow. They had made up a quantity of snowballs, and were 
pelting one another, when Robert, with his face all aglow with the 
walk and satisfaction in his new suit, came towards them. 

" Hallo ! who comes here ? A grenadier ? We don't know this 
fine chap, with his jaunty cap and smart clothes. Can't speak, eh ? " 
shouted one and another of the boys. " We wanted a target, and 
here's one. Hallo, boys ! He's not an automaton, after all," as 
Robert took up some of the balls lying on the ground to defend 
himself with. " Here goes ! " and ball after ball went whizzing 
through the air, some hitting, some missing Robert. At this junc- 
ture, Charlie Hall came running up ; and, placing himself between 



252 



ROBERT GAFFIELD. 



[July, 




Robert and the boys, cried out, " Stop ! stop ! Let Robert alone ! 
Fire at me, if you dare ! Brave boys, ar'n't you ? Yesterday, tor- 
menting and worrying a fellow, because he was ragged and dirty ; 
today, because he is clean and whole, and looks as nice as the 
best of us, abusing him, and pelting at him. For shame ! for shame ! 
Oh ! " stamping his foot, and almost screaming with anger ; " you're 
poor, mean, pitiful, cowardly boys ! I'd rather, ten thousand times 
over, have Robert Gaffield for a friend, than one of you ; such " 
" Charles, Charles ! " said their teacher, who, at this moment 
appeared ; " control yourself. I do not wonder at your indignation j 
for," his whole face indicating the contempt he felt, as he looked 
at the cowering, mortified boys, " I have seen and heard all ; but, 
remember, that your getting into a passion will not help Robert, 
while it will only harm yourself. As for you, brave young gentle- 



l868.] ROBERT GAFFIELD. 253 

men," turning to the culprits, " we will talk this matter over by our- 
selves, after school." 

What transpired in that interview was not known to the other 
boys. The result, however, was a marked change in most of the 
lads in their treatment of Robert ; some of them, indeed, who had 
followed the others, more in thoughtlessness than cruelty, showing 
him kindness, and all ceasing to molest him. This day proved a 
crisis long to be remembered in Robert's life ; for, combined with 
Nellie's consulting Dr. Lane, great good came to Mr. Gaffield, and 
through him to all his family. It so happened, that this was one of 
the rare days when Mr. Gaffield was sober enough to attend to his 
business ; and, being in the town of Westport that afternoon, he 
heard an exaggerated account of his son's treatment. He went 
home full of the matter, and found Dr. Lane there, with Nellie upon 
his knee. The good doctor was riding by the cottage, when a little, 
shrill voice cried out, " Stop ! do stop, Dr. Lane ! I want you to 
come right in, and describe for my father. He do have such sick 
legs ; and I know you can help him. Please, do." 

" Why, you queer little puss ; who told you to ask me 'this ? " 

" My own self," was the child's answer, drawing herself up to 
her full height. " I know somefin', if I am little." 

Dr. Lane could not resist Nellie's confidence in his skill ; though 
far from responding to it, he muttered, " It's about the most diffi- 
cult case I was ever called to prescribe for." He followed the child 
into the house, told Mrs. Gaffield why he came, and being a kind- 
hearted man, found her thankful to open her heart upon a subject 
hitherto avoided. 

When Mr. Gaffield came in, excited and angry, threatening ven- 
geance against the boys for abusing his son, it at once gave Dr. 
Lane the opportunity he needed for speaking to him of his habits. 
While he did not, in the least, excuse the boys for their wanton 
cruelty to Robert, he showed him plainly that his own habits, and 
consequent neglect of his family, was the primary cause of it. 
Kindly, but unsparingly, he told him truths he had never heard 
before ; for he was too good a physician not to know that there are 
cases in which the tenderest mercy is to cut deep. As he went on, 
the poor man looked red and white, by turns, till at last he hid his 
face in his hands, and burst into a passionate fit of crying, which 
so incensed Nellie against the doctor, that she got down from his 
knee, and running to her father, put her little chubby arms round 
his neck, and begged him to stop ; and then, turning to the doctor, 



254 TRANSPLANTED. [J u ty> 

said, " Go away, you naughty man ; go right away. I asked you 
to describe for him, not to make him cry." 

" I think I may go, Nellie ; I have done my best for your father. 
Love and kindness will do the rest, I hope," said the doctor, gently. 

He was right. From that moment, the work of reformation com- 
menced. The loving clasp of his child's arms, to which he had 
heretofore been a stranger, set the seal to the resolution the doc- 
tor's words had induced him to take. When the anniversary of that 
day came round, a more orderly, industrious, or happier family 
than Mr. Gaffield's could not be found in Westport limits. Robert 
looked back gratefully to the scene which the picture in the com- 
mencement of this story represents, as the cause of the change in 
his father. And even Nellie has almost forgiven the doctor for 
being so " naughty " to him ; though she still warns her " dollies " 
against ever asking that Dr. Lane to describe for their complaints. 

F. w. A. P. 



TRANSPLANTED. 

Memorial of little M. and H. 

SHE was our little Rose, a bud half blown, 
Pink, dewy, sweet, its beauty half unknown ; 
O little Rosebud ! blighted, tfead, and gone ! 

The baby-blossom was our Violet- 

Forget-me-Not, in our heart's garden set ; 

O new-made grave ! with lonely tears how wet ! 

Yet, in sweet Paradise, our treasure flowers, 

Forever beautiful forever ours j 

Christ cherished bloom, in his celestial bowers. 

MAY HAWK. 




i868.J WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 255 



/ WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 





|'VE got him ! Isn't he a fat one ? " cried Will, slowly 
opening his hand, to show the plump, black cricket he 
had just caught. 

" Don't hurt him. I like crickets ; they make such a 
pretty noise, and have such queer, stiff tails," said Polly, looking at 
the little head which peeped through her brother's fingers. 

" That reminds me of one of your funny mistakes when you were 
a little girl," said grandma, smiling. " You came to me one day, 
with your eyes staring, and told me that the cook kept a big, black 
spider, with a stiff tail, in her closet. I went to see the wonder, 
and found it was an old-fashioned iron spider, for cooking." 

" That's just like Polly ! she's so stupid. I guess if you told her 
to bring you a cricket, she'd go and get one of these fat fellows ; 
wouldn't you, Poll ? " asked Will, who never could resist teasing his 
sister. 

" Yes, I should, if she did it now ; for I want to know about 
them," returned Polly, trying to look at him with dignified indiffer- 
ence. 

" Are they interesting chaps, grandma ? " said Will, holding his 
prisoner fast, in spite of his struggles. 

" I think so ; and I'm as fond of them as Polly. The house- 
cricket is a social little thing, and likes to live in the crannies of 
kitchen chimnies or bakehouses. Most insects sleep in winter, or 
die as soon as summer is over ; but these always live in a warm 
region, as it were, and are always brisk and merry. A good hot 
fire is like the dog-days to them, though snow may lie deep and 
cold outside. They are often heard by day ; but usually take 
their walks abroad by night, and have fine concerts on the warm 
hearth when every one is asleep. Living in such a hot climate 
makes them a thirsty set ; and they are often found drowned in the 



256 WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. [J u ty> 

water-pails or milk-pans, where they have gone to drink. What- 
ever is moist delights them ; and they sometimes gnaw holes in 
wet woollen stockings, or clothes hung by the fire. They eat, also, 
almost anything they find, yeast, salt, bread, whatever is left, 
where they can get at it. They have wings, but seldom use them, 
except for travelling, when they move through the air in waves, 
rising and falling as they go. When running about a room in the 
dark, if any one enters with a candle, they give a shrill chirp, as if 
warning one another, and all scamper to their holes in a great hurry. 
It is said, that in some places, they are collected, and fed in a warm 
oven, and sold to people, who hang them up in little wicker cages, 
as they like their noise, and think it lulls them to sleep." 

" What makes the noise ? " asked Will, who always liked to know 
why and how things were done. 

"I'm not sure, whether it is a little membrane under the wing, 
which opens and shuts, or a joint of the leg, rough, like a saw, with 
which they rasp when they please. The noise can be made after 
they are dead, by moving this tendon, they say ; and I've heard 
that crickets will chirp, even when their heads are off. But I should 
be sorry to see any one try such a cruel experiment." 

" Is this a house-cricket ? " asked Polly, as Will suddenly let his 
prize hop away, instead of pulling his legs off, as he had intended, 
before the old lady spoke of cruelty. 

" No, dear ; this is a field-cricket. This sort live in burrows, or 
holes in the ground, where they lay their eggs, about the size of 
caraway-comfits, and guard them carefully. The nest is like a little 
fort, with fortifications, avenues, and sometimes a ditch all round 
it. They have strong jaws, with which they fight each other, but 
never hurt us. They eat the plants that grow about the fields ; and 
pass the evenings, sitting and singing at their doors, like cheerful 
little neighbors. 

" Locusts belong to this class of insects, and in some countries 
do great damage ; for the ground will be covered with them, for 
miles : and the noise they make in feeding on the leaves and grass 
can be heard like a loud rustling. In Asia, the people make great 
clouds of smoke, to drive them off; and dig trenches round their 
fields, where the locusts fall in, and are buried. Sometimes there 
are so many, that it looks as if a dark cloud was passing overhead ; 
for they have a leader, and follow in immense swarms, wherever he 
goes. They march like an army, over fields and woods, destroying 
every green thing they touch ; but at night, they rest ; and at this 



1868.] WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 257 

time, the people try to kill them. In Africa, they are eaten some 
persons- dry, pound, and boil them in milk ; others broil them over 
the coals, and consider them good food. Our locusts don't do much 
harm, I believe, as we have but few in this damp, cold climate." 

" I don't like the noise they make as well as the crickets' chirp ; 
and I'm going to make a paper cage, and put some crickets in it, 
to sing lullabies for me," said Polly, whose fancy was taken by that 
fact. 

" I hope you will find them easier to catch than I did once," said 
grandma. " Many years ago, I was travelling in Italy ; and on 
Christmas Day, after a picnic in an orange-grove, I went to my 
room, very tired. But I did not get my rest very soon ; for, just 
as I was about to put out my candle, something bounced on my 
head. I looked in the glass, and beheld an immense brown cricket, 
promenading over my night-cap. He looked so home-like, I was 
very glad to see him ; but, as I didn't care about his prancing round 
the room to disturb my sleep, I tried to catch him. That didn't 
suit Mr. Cricket; and he gave a great leap to the clock, and 
stared at me with his big eyes quite reproachfully. I made a rush 
at him, and he skipped into the wood-basket, turning heels over 
head as he went. I was determined to have him ; so I rummaged 
among the pine cones after him ; when, bang ! up he came against 
my very nose, and was off like a shot. I hunted him all over the 
room ; while that lively insect leaped and chirped derisively, till I 
got him in the window-curtain, and shut him up in a little drawer, 
to amuse himself with postage-stamps and guide-books. The jolly 
old soul took it very coolly, and chirped away with all his might ; 
while I went to sleep, very much exhausted with my gymnastics. 
I forgot him till several days after, and then ran to the drawer, ex- 
pecting to find the brown ballet-dancer dead ; but he popped up 
his head as brisk as ever, gave a skip and a chirp, and vanished as 
gaily as if nothing had happened. I quite missed him, and hoped 
he'd come again ; but he never did." 

" I heard papa talking about some of the old Greek fellows, who 
made songs to grasshoppers, and thought a great deal of them," 
said Will, when they had laughed at grandma's midnight dance. 

" Yes, they called them cicada ; and loved and honored the little 
things for their gay music. Some wore golden grasshoppers in 
their hair ; and the image of a cicada, sitting on a harp, was an em- 
blem of music, which is accounted for in this way : Two musicians 
were trying which could play best ; and one of these chirpers flew 



258 WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. [J u ty> 

to the harp of Eunomus, and supplied the place of a broken string 
so well, that he won the prize. I remember part of a pretty little 
song, by one of the '.old Greek fellows/ as you say, Will, about 
the cicada : 

" ' Happy creature ! what below 

Can more happy live than thou ? 

Sipping, on the dewy lawn, 

The fragrant nectar of the dawn; 

Little tales thou lov'st to sing, 

Tales of mirth an insect-king. 

Thine the treasures of the field ; 

All to thee the seasons yield ; 

Cares nor pains to thee belong, 

Thou alone art ever young ; 

Rich in spirits, health thy feast, 

Thou'rt a demi-god, at least.' 

"There is one sort of locust which is called 'the little fiddler,' 
because it draws one leg over the other, like a fiddle-bow, they say. 
Another sort is called the nightingale of the fairies, for it sings 
when other insects sleep ; and its lively tune would do for an elfin 
dance." 

" Dear me ! How I should like to see a fairy ball," said Polly. 
" I read about one once ; and they had fireflies for lamps, and 
crickets for pipers, and moths and mosquitoes danced ; and they 
had a splendid time. Do glowworms and fireflies really have fire 
in them, like lanterns, grandma ? " 

" One of these bright creatures is called the ' lantern-fly ; ' and is 
so brilliant, that in South America, the Indians tie a few to a stick, 
and use it as a torch, when travelling. The light is in the head of 
this firefly, but the glowworms have it in the body ; and it only 
shows when they are moving. Some are so brilliant, that people 
read and work by their light ; and ladies wear them in little gauze 
bags, sewed on their dresses, to glitter as they walk in the soft 
darkness of southern nights. These insects always have their small 
lamps trimmed and ready ; yet can hide the light in a minute, if any 
enemy approaches. They are very useful too, in killing the gnats, 
which fill the houses in the West-India Islands ; and the natives 
catch the pretty creatures for that purpose, enjoying their light 
while they devour the gnats, and make themselves both useful 
and agreeable." 

" I shall try that dodge tonight, when the sheets come," said Will, 
as the tea-bell rang. 



i868.] 



NAN'S HOUSES. 



259 




NAN'S HOUSES. 

NAN has houses everywhere, 

Kept to look at, not to use ; 
All so dainty and so fair, 

She is puzzled which to choose. 

Houses far and houses near, 

In the world and in the sky ; 
Sometimes grand and sometimes queer, 

Cheap enough for Nan to buy ; 

Grand enough for any queen, 
Built upon the stars and clouds ; 

Built amid the grasses green, 

Built amid the flowers, in crowds ; 

Built in shade at even-fall, 

Built in sunshine, just at noon ; 
But, the greatest one of all, 

That is standing in the moon. 

Nan is poor as any mouse ; 

Yet, like others poor as she, 
She can build herself a house 

Just where she would like to be. 

She is always glad and free, 

She may work, or she may sing ; 

She has all the world to see, 
She can wish for anything. 

H. B. HUDSON. 



260 



THE LOGGERS; OR, 



[July, 








THE LOGGERS ; OR, SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS 

OF MAINE. 

(Conclusion.) 

MONUMENT BROOK. 

UNE 2$d. The intense excitement of yesterday has 
made me recollect there are such things as nerves 
in my body; and so, I am to leave. with my uncle 
for a few days, and go to Western Grand Lake 
stream afishing. 

For many years, Western Grand Lake stream has been the resort 
of amateur fishermen. They come here from Boston, New York, 
and Philadelphia ; and so many of them clergymen, that one of 
the Indians called it "ministers' fishing-ground." Dr. Bethune 
resorted here for many years, and was always " in luck," taking 
more fish than any one on the ground, and packing them for 
home use. More than forty followers of Isaac Walton are camping 
here now ; and several among these wear white neckties when at 
home. The fish are perfect ; and the facilities good for taking 
large quantities if one has the least skill. 

From Calais, a railroad runs to Princeton, a distance of nearly 
thirty miles. There, Indians are ready, with canoes, to take you 
to the fishing-ground ; or, you can cross Lewey's and Big Lake in 
the little steamer " Sepoy," or " Capt. Lewey," a steam tug-boat. 
Both lake and boat are named for an old Indian, of the 'Quaddy 
tribe, who lived long upon its banks, and expressed himself " much 
happy 'bout that little steamirf canoe, what speaked much loud, an' 
say, him Cap'n Lewey." 

From Lewey's Lake, we passed into Big Lake, a clear, placid 
sheet of water, dotted here and there with skiffs and canoes, filled 
with gaily-dressed Indians. " Something more than usual is going 
on," said my uncle. " Perhaps a wedding, or a funeral ; no one 
could tell by an Indian's countenance which, as it is a part of their 
nature to conceal their emotions." 

Pretty soon, we met the little " Gipsy," steaming down with a 



1868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 261 

picnic party. From them, we learned that a wedding was to take 
place at the Point ; the governor's daughter was to be married, a 
great dance, etc., etc. 

"We must be there," said uncle, laughing; "and see all the 
fun. The weddings are always private ; but to the dance, we all 
can go." 

About five o'clock, the boat was tied to a tree at Governor's 
Point, where there is quite a settlement of Indians. Many live in 
small wooden houses, which have quite a comfortable look, espe- 
cially the governor's. A gay flag was flying from a tall flag-staff, 
and, as we came in sight, a small cannon was fired several times 
in succession, making curious echoes from the opposite shore. 
We spent the hour, until time for the " dance," in roaming about 
this beautiful spot. Indians, I observe, always select for vil- 
lages, spots that are high and have an extensive outlook. 

The chapel is of wood, and surmounted by a cross ; around it 
is their burial-place, neatly enclosed with a fence. Many of the 
graves looked old and sunken ; the wooden slabs, that had stood at 
the heads, decaying and illegible. Some crosses were bright with 
fresh paint, and of large dimensions, bearing rudely carved names. 
The settlement at this " Point " has long been made, and yet 
there is no progress in agriculture. It is certain, the red man has 
no taste for farming ; the game he takes, with what little he 
exchanges for baskets, keeps him alive ; and, half barbarous as 
he is, but little suffices, as he has no artificial wants, and but few 
ideas of what constitutes comfort or neatness. 

A few exceptions I must notice. Among our river " drivers " are 
some smart, active Indians ; and, in one instance, a father and son 
have charge of a drive. Among the squaws, I observe a fondness 
for bright colors. At the " dance," the women wore gay-colored 
dresses, large tin or plated breastplates, gaudy ear-rings, beaded 
anklets and moccasins, and high-colored ribbons floating from 
their braided hair. 

In manners, they are quiet, and chaste, joining in the slow dance 
with serious, almost stolid faces. This peculiarity of concealing 
all emotion belongs to Indians everywhere. When with whites, 
they never seem excited or curious ; the calm, unconcerned look, 
they think necessary to their dignity. 

The bride was rather pretty, but scarcely more than a child in 
yaars. Uncle, having long known her father (Joseph Neptune), 
the governor, talked with him about her. 



262 THE LOGGERS; OR, [July, 

" Yes, yes," he said ; " she be too young to marry. My squaw 
say so ; I say so. Then, when her Sanop speak 'em for her, we 
say no, no ; can't hab her one, two, so many years," counting 
three on his fingers. " Then my gal, she hang down her head, an' 
he talk half night ; an' he say he must hab her, an' will. An' I say 
no ; an' my squaw say, she only baby. Then, nex day, come again ! 
(he very smart, you see), an' he talk, talk ; say he must hab her, 
coz he goin' way, stay a long time; and she much hansome ; so 
s'pose maybe when him long way off, somebody speak ; then, 
other Indian get her fore he come, coz she so hansome." 

" And you said yes ? " asked my uncle, laughing. 

" No ; I said nothing ! " with a look of much gravity. " I no 
speak ; but the priest, he marry 'em ; and she be got nice-looking 
Sanop, and he a great hunter. But, my squaw much solly." 

The next morning, Pete took us in a canoe to " Grand Lake 
Stream," the grand fishing-ground. We did not attempt to pole 
up the rapids, but walked from " Gould's," a distance of two 
and a half miles, carrying our fishing-tackle, Pete the tent. The 
wagon that would have taken us had gone ahead with some earlier 
fishermen. After a pretty heavy tramp, in the warm, June sun, we 
arrived safely, excepting from the onslaught of mosquitoes and 
midges, which are foes more to be dreaded than bears or any 
large enemies. When we go, we will have nets to envelope the 
whole head, fastening with elastic below the collar ; and we will 
bring ammoniac tincture, to bathe ourselves (insects have a great 
aversion to it), or, better still, we will arrange to get here early 
before the lakes break up, as then, the insect-reign has not 
commenced. No one, who has spent a week in these forest 
regions, will forget these precautions. 

Just above the dam, on a broad clearing, there are at least 
twenty-five tents, belonging to amateur fishermen. Some of these 
are nice and tasty, as you can imagine, and the fishing-tackle 
exquisite. Philadelphia, New York, Boston, and many smaller 
places, have here lovers of nature and the piscatorial art. Some 
stay several weeks in succession, and take away quantities of these 
land-locked salmon, which they assist in curing. 

It would seem strange to me, if any one could resist the many 
attractions here at this season. The rare, quiet beauty of the 
lakes; the rich verdure surrounding them; the variety of birds 
of song and of water-fowl ; the purity and health-giving of these 
odorous breezes; but, most of all, the trout the wonderful trout 



l868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 263 

handsome enough to delight the eye of any Isaac Walton, with 
their rapid, graceful movements, and spotted, chameleon coats j 
abundant enough to set a fellow like me crazy with delight, and so 
delicious when cooked, that an epicure might feel his appetite fully 
satisfied. Before tea, last night, I had caught nine ; and one fellow, 
weighing three or four pounds, I trolled an hour, before I suc- 
ceeded in drawing him. Each camp has an Indian, or some one, to 
cook for them ; and I think we had, at least, one dozen invitations 
to dine, while Pete was arranging our tent. Hospitality is largely 
practised here, and, as my uncle is a veteran fisherman, he was 
received right joyfully. Our tramp had given us a keen appetite. 
The cooks vie with each other ; and I assure you, the two dinners we 
accepted, were delicious. Most of the company here are refined 
and intellectual. Uncle says, among them, he recognizes some of 
the rarest thinkers about our modern Athens. 

Last night, by moonlight, I saw several on the dam, still handling 
the rod. Pete said, " 'Coz tomollow, sabber day ; no fish; ha ! ha ! 
Catch 'em all 'fore Sunday ; that 'em way ; no cheat Yankee ; ha ! ha ! 
ha ! " And so, this morning, we had no fishing, but a sermon, elo- 
quent and impressive, on the river-bank ; and the morning lesson 
was the reading of the story of our Saviour and his disciples, on 
Lake Galilee. After the sun had set, I imagine I saw fishers again 
on the " dam ! " But, don't be severe ; the fascination is so great, 
that if heavy Johnson was here, with hook and line, I am sure he 
would be at one end, whatever might be at the other. 

I never enjoyed a week better ! But the best times must have an 
end. Uncle felt obliged to go, and I reluctantly accompanied him ; 
with the pleasing consolation, however, that this trout-mine is inex- 
haustible. Innumerable numbers have been taken for many years ; 
and yet, they were never more abundant than now. The waters 
are clear ; and it would delight you, to watch the fish in them. 
Next year, we will come together, Frank j and every year, until the 
pickerel destroy the trout, or until time (more insatiable) destroys 
our love for such things. 

Again we pass over these lovely lakes, just touching the surface 
in our canoe, almost as lightly as the morning breeze. Many 
others were moving about, carrying the red people hither and 
thither to their different camping-grounds. As we came to Lewey's 
Lake, we met the tiny steamer " Gipsey," loaded with gay young 

folks from C , who were on their way to a sheltered nook by 

the lake-side, where they came to enjoy a picnic dinner. 



264 THE LOGGERS; OR, 

We reached Princeton before the afternoon train was ready to 
leave ; and employed ourselves looking into the woollen and saw 
mills, and fishing a little from the bridge. At three, we started for 
Sprague's Falls, fifteen miles down the River St. Croix ; and here a 
very pleasant sight met our view, as the cars stopped to let us out. 

A broad intervale seemed dotted over with men at play; chasing, 
rolling, playing leap-frog ; pitching stones into the river, or quietly 
resting in the shade. "Well done," said uncle, as he took in 
the scene ; " the drives are in, and the men are having their dis- 
charge, with a treat, I see. Poor fellows ; they have worked hard, 
and richly deserve it." 

The " master of the drive " had sent down for lemons, sweet 
cakes, biscuit, and cheese, in abundance ; and the men were having 
a real good time, as free from care as schoolboys after examina- 
tion. A whole barrel had been filled with lemonade, which Jim 
was dealing out as we came near. Handing us a flowing dipper, 
with a grin, and a flourish, he says, " Here's yer fine ould Jamaky ; 
an' long health to yer honors ! " 

About six, the cars returned, and took the happy men to their 
homes, after they had given " hearty cheers " for their employers. 
Many bright, childish, and womanly faces were waiting at the 
depot, as we left the cars. I saw Jim's Kathleqn, and his 
Teddy. I saw Sacker fold his " little girl " in his arms, and 
the lonely Parson walk his solitary way. 

Another " river-driving crew " were entering town on foot, a part 
of the drivers from the Eastern River. They were jolly fellows, 
singing songs, and cutting up queer antics. Comical expressions 
passed between the two crews as they met, and outbursts of mother- 
wit, that caused explosions of laughter. I think I never saw the 
same number of men together, of such noble, manly proportions. 
Many were tall, but all were straight, and broad-chested, walking 
with a firm, lofty tread. Only a strong man could endure their 
labor ; therefore, only strong, hearty men return from the " drives." 

" Noble fellows to work," said uncle ; " it's a pity so many of 
them will think they must go on a spree tonight. But that's their 
fashion, to treat themselves to a good drink, after their task is 
finished, and before they commence their farm or mill work ; 
many of them spend half their spring wages (the young fellows) ; 
and it is lamentable ! " Sacker's salvation is in his " little girl ; " 
but Jim, I fear, "will shake hands again with Jamaky." 



l868.] SIX MONTHS IN THE FORESTS OF MAINE. 265 

And now, I have done with forests and forest trees, trusting we 
shall both know, in future, where the houses we live in come from. 
It has interested me, to know something of the life so many thou- 
sands of men lead, for at least six months in every year, in these 
lumbering regions. I have been improved in health, and amused. 
If you have enjoyed these jottings by the way, ever so little, I am 
more than repaid. 

Before the Fourth, I shall be with you. Don't look for a delicate 
collegian, but a healthy backwoodsman ! I must prepare you, for 
the change is almost marvellous. If ever your nerves and health 
fail, come east, and do likewise. In the future, my large-souled 
uncle and his forest shall be my Mecca ; and yearly pilgrimages I 
will make, to what has proved my physical salvation. I remember, 
when a little chap, my white-haired grandfather placing his hands 
on my head, and saying, " There are possibilities here, daughter ; 
but, the first thing for you to do for Bob, is, to get him a body. 
Brain is of little use without muscle." Now, Frank, I'm bound to 
try the " possibilities." I challenge you to outrun me in study. 

The catalogue of birds, I send. The boxes of eggs, and natural 
specimens, leave tomorrow, in a lumber vessel ; and this is the 
invoice: "Lulu, the deer, a perfect beauty ;" "Max, the bear, 
as tame, and not much larger than your Newfoundland dog ; " 
" Various antlers, and deers' heads ; " " Rare specimens of ferns 
and mosses ; " "A bald-head eagle, stuffed ; " and, above all, " The 
very moose I shot, set up in fine style," a gift from my charming 
uncle ! Won't we have a chamber of curiosities ? Won't the boys 
stare ? for Pete, the red-skin, is to go and take charge of all, 
remaining with me a little while. Keep watch at T wharf. 
And have my chamber cleared out ; no matter about the bed ; 
I can sleep on the closet-floor, anywhere ! Good-night. 




266 LITTLE PEARL. [July, 





LITTLE PEARL. 

CHAPTER IV. FAIRY HOLLOW. 

(Continued from the June Number!) 

'OME, come ! I'll tell you ! " he shouted again. 

With pale faces and beating hearts they ran up to him. 
" Oh, what is it ? What is it ? " they cried. " Is father 
hurt ? Is he dead ? " 

" No, you little rascals ! Your father is well enough ; but you've 
taken all the breath out of me." 

"Tell us," said Gassy, " about father." 

" He went out of town, to see a sick person, and hasn't got back 
yet. That's all." 

" Do you know ? Have you seen him today ? " asked Agnes. 

" Why, of course, that's it. Come up to the house. My sister 
will tell you all about it." 

The children began to cry afresh, and would have got away from 
him again ; but he caught hold of Agnes, and forced them to yield. 

" Why, Samuel ! " exclaimed a dignified-looking old lady, meet- 
ing them at the door. " Where on earth did you get all of those 
children ? " 

" Picked them up. Don't look much like an old bachelor now ; 
do I, Polly ? Here, take this little chap, and lay him down ; and 
give the others some supper. They are Dr. Marsh's children." 

" Dr. Marsh's children ? " repeated the old lady. " Why, what 
is the matter?" 

" Their father didn't get home as soon as usual ; and they got 
frightened, and came after him," said the gentleman. "But I 
wouldn't let them go any farther. They got away from me once ; 
and would have ran away into town, I suppose, if I hadn't been as 
spry as a cat." 

" You poor little dears ! " said the lady. " Why, you needn't be 



l868.] LITTLE PEARL. 267 

afraid; your father will take care of himself;" and she put Bliss 
down on the sofa, and took poor little Pearl, who was almost sick 
from fright and fatigue, and bathed her blistered feet, and gave her 
some warm drink, and pillowed her up in a great arm-chair. But 
she could do nothing with Agnes and Gassy. They would neither 
eat nor sit down to rest ; but stood at the window, and cried, and 
watched for their father. It was now quite dark. The moon had 
risen, and was shining brightly ; but the father had not come. 
The children were still watching at the window, straining eye and 
ear to catch every sight and sound. At last, they heard a carriage 
coming. 

" It's him ! " cried Gassy ; " I know the sound of the wheels ! " 

" Hush ! " said Agnes ; and they listened breathlessly. The 
carriage came in sight. 

" It is father ! It is father ! " they cried ; and they would have 
rushed out of the house after him ; but the fat gentleman stood 
at the door, and held them back, while he called to the doctor to 
stop. 

" Well, well, children ! How does this happen ? " said the father, 
as he drove up to the door, and jumped out of the carriage. 

Their only answer was murmured words of tenderness and sobs 
of joy ; while they clung to him so closely, that he could not release 
himself. 

" My poor little ones ! My poor motherless ones ! " he said ; 
and the children had never heard such low, loving tones in their 
father's voice before. 

" What detained you so, doctor ? " said the fat gentleman, whom 
the doctor called Mr. Humphrey. 

" Business at the shop. One of my clerks was out ; and I waited 
to see if a box of drugs that I was expecting, came by express," 
said the doctor, as he took little Pearl up in his arms, and kissed 
her. 

" Doctor, you must not think of going home tonight," said Miss 
Humphrey. " It is late, and the children are very tired." 

But the doctor refused the invitation to remain. He should have 
to go, he said. 

"Well, you must have supper first. The children have eaten 
nothing yet ; " and Miss Humphrey, going about in a quiet, dig- 
nified way, soon had the room pleasantly lighted, and a most invit- 
ing meal prepared. Never were children happier. They forgot 
hunger, fatigue, and everything else, in their joy. 



268 LITTLE PEARL. [J u ty> 

" Oh, dear, dear father^! I do love you so ! " they kept saying 
as they clung around him, and showered kisses upon his face 
and hands. 

" Doctor, I begin to think that it is a jolly sort of a thing, after 
all," said Mr. Humphrey, " to have a few of those little, rosy-lipped, 
curly-headed imps to call one's own. I'd not like the trouble of 
catching them, though, if they should happen to run away from 
me ; " and he leaned back in his chair, and looked very comfort- 
able and happy, though he was a bachelor. " I think I'd like this 
little girl for my wife, doctor," he said, putting his hand on Cassy's 
shoulder. " What do you say about it, Bright Eyes ? " 

" Only big people get married," said Gassy. 

" Well, ain't I big enough ? " 

Gassy laughed, and said that she thought " her grandmother 
would do best for him." 

" Oh, I don't want your grandmother," he said ; " I want you ; 
and I think that I shall come to your house some day, and take a 
minister with me, and carry you off for my little doxy." 

Gassy stopped laughing, and looked as if she thought he was in 
earnest. 

" Samuel, don't be foolish, and tease the child," said Miss Hum- 
phrey. Just then, Bliss awoke. He had been sleeping since Agnes 
had put him out of her arms. 

" Is nat you, papa ? " he said, as his father bent over him, and 
kissed him. " Robbers didn't dit you, did they, papa ? " and the 
little fellow began looking around the room in great fear. The 
father took Bliss to the table ; and Miss Humphrey prepared a 
bowl of bread and milk, and gave him. He was so hungry, that 
he stopped asking himself questions, and began to eat. " Papa," 
he whispered once, "is nat Santa Glaus?" meaning Mr. Humphrey. 

The father was so much amused, that he had to repeat the whis- 
per ; and, when Bliss saw Mr. Humphrey laugh, he was sure that 
he was Santa Glaus. 

The doctor was now ready to go home ; and Miss Humphrey 
begged that Pearl might remain with them till the morning, fearing 
that the night-air would not be good for her. But Pearl looked so 
distressed at the thought of leaving her father, that the doctor said 
that he would rather take her with him ; that some of the others 
might stay, and give him a better opportunity of taking care of her ; 
and it was decided that Gassy and Bliss should remain, and the 
father said that he would come after them early in the morning. 



i868.] 



LITTLE PEARL. 



269 




Bliss cried a little, and Cassy was not pleased ; but the carriage 
had no sooner got out of sight, than they seemed quite contented. 
Mr. Humphrey talked and played with them till it was late in the 
evening, and Miss Humphrey said that they had better go to bed ; 
and she went upstairs to prepare a place for them to sleep in her 
room. 

While she was gone, and when Mr. Humphrey had left the room, 
Cassy was tempted to do a very wicked thing. She was hungry. 
She had eaten but little at the table ; and in a closet, near to where 
she was sitting, there were slices of buttered bread, and luscious 
little cakes, and great sugared plums. " Could there be any harm 
in just helping herself to a little of what she so much needed ? Of 
course, Miss Humphrey would be willing ; only, she didn't like to 
ask her. I'll do it," she said. " I can't starve to death ; " and she 
opened the closet-door. Everything was temptingly arrayed before 
her. She had only to reach out her hand, and take what she 



270 LITTLE PEARL. [J u l>'> 

wanted. But, she couldn't reach out her hand. Something held 
it back. " It is too much like stealing," she said to herself. " I 
won't do it ; " and she turned to close the door, when Bliss, who 
had followed her into the closet, dipped his hand into an uncovered 
jar of preserves that was setting on the floor. She caught hold of 
him, to get him away ; but his hand was in the preserves, and 
before she could get it out, she heard Miss Humphrey's step in the 
hall. She closed the door in an instant, and shut Bliss in ; and 
Bliss was so frightened, that he could neither cry out, nor stir. 

"Where is the little boy? " said Miss Humphrey, as she entered. 

What should Cassy answer ? How could she tell ? "I I 
don't know. He went out somewhere ; " she stammered, at last. 

Miss Humphrey looked at her a moment, and then took her 
hand, and led her directly to the closet. There was Bliss, crouch- 
ing on the floor, daubed with preserves, and stricken with terror. 
Miss Humphrey took him out, sat him on a little cricket by the 
fireplace, led Cassy to a chair ; and said, in a very stern voice, "A 
thief and a liar ! a thief and a liar ! " and left the room. 

The weight of guilt and fear and shame bowed Cassy to the earth. 
Never had she felt what sin was before. Those horrid words, "A 
thief and a liar ! " were echoed by ten thousand voices, and stunned 
her deaf. She caught a glimpse of herself in the glass. There 
was something on her forehead a mark. She thought of Cain. 
" God has marked me ! God has marked me ! " she screamed ; and 
she started to go to the door, but was conscious of nothing else, un- 
til she found herself in Mr. Humphrey's arms, and saw Miss Hum- 
phrey, with a face no longer stern, standing near, bathing her head. 

" I don't see that the child has done anything so very wrong," 
she heard Mr. Humphrey say. "You was too severe with her, 
Polly ; too severe." 

" Samuel, don't talk in that way," said Miss Humphrey. " Per- 
haps I was too harsh ; but the child did a very wrong thing, and 
you must not make her think that she did not. You must not be 
blinded by pity. For my part, I'm glad that she felt it so keenly. 
It will do her no harm." 

When Cassy was quite restored, and had began to feel like her- 
self once more, she and Bliss were undressed, and put into a little 
bed beside Miss Humphrey's bed. Miss Humphrey sat down with 
them, and taking Cassy's hand in hers, said, "I did not mean to 
be too severe with you, my little girl ; but I was so shocked and 
grieved, that I hardly knew what to do or say. I thought that you 



i868.] 



MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 



2 7 I 



had been so well taught by a good mother, that you could not do 
such things." 

Gassy told her that she did not steal anything ; that she could 
not do that. She only told a lie. 

Miss Humphrey seemed relieved to hear it. " 'Twas God alone 
who kept you from it," she said. " But, Gassy, you must remember, 
that to tell a lie is worse than to steal." She then began talking 
to Bliss. " Bliss," she said ; " do you know who saw you when 
you was in that dark closet ? " 

" You did," answered Bliss, hiding his face under the pillow. 

" Who else saw you ? " 

" Dod, I 'pose." 

" Yes, dear ; God did see you," said Miss Humphrey. " God 
sees you always ; and he sees every naughty thing you do, and 
hears every naughty word you say." 

" Are the 'tars Dod's eyes ? " asked Bliss. 

" No, my dear ; but He can see just as well, as if every star was 
an eye ; just as well, little Bliss." 

Miss Humphrey talked with them awhile longer ; then she heard 
them say their prayers, and kissed them "good-night." Early in 
the morning, their father came and took them home. 



MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 

III. DECLINE OF THE ANGLO-SAXON POWER, AND OCCUPATION 

OF THE DANES. 




O Alfred the Great succeeded his son Ed- 
ward, called the Elder, because he was the 
first Edward who ever ruled over England. 
This prince inherited the military talent 
of his father, but not his love of learning ; 
and the kingdom neither gained nor lost 
during his reign. All that he achieved 
was due to the assistance of his sister, 
known as the " Lady of Mercia," a great- 

souled and noble-hearted woman, of rare energy, and, like Mrs. 

Gargery, decidedly "given to government." Meantime, in the 



272 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [July, 

household of this remarkable woman, there was growing up a youth 
under whose sway the glory of the Anglo-Saxon name was to cul- 
minate. This was the little Athelstan; Edward's eldest son, a boy 
of astonishing beauty and grace, and the idol of his grandfather, 
Alfred. No doubt, the two often walked, hand in hand, down to the 
river-side, where the workmen were building the long ships, in which 
the great king sailed away to drive the Norsemen home ; and per- 
haps, the commercial enterprise, for which Athelstan afterwards 
became noted, began in the days when he sailed his little chip- 
boats on the muddy Thames, while his grandfather superintended 
the ship-builders. I suppose, too, that they went together to the 
cells in the old monasteries, where the patient prayermen sat, tran- 
scribing the books from Latin into Saxon ; and that Alfred taught 
the boy his letters from the beautifully-illuminated capitals with 
which the page was dotted. At any rate, they were famous friends ; 
and it seems as if Alfred saw, in the precocity of the child, a prom- 
ise of future greatness, for he called him, one day, to his side, and 
patting his flaxen curls, put on him a scarlet cloak, a belt, studded 
with diamonds, and a Saxon sword, in token that he was hereafter 
to rule j and then, praying that the reign of his grandson might be 
a happy and prosperous one, he sent the boy to his strong-minded 
aunt, to be educated. No sooner had Athelstan succeeded to the 
throne of his father, than a great league was formed against him 
by the Scots, Danes, and other nations, who were jealous of his 
power. But Athelstan, with his brother, Edmund the Etheling, * 
defeated them in the famous battle of Brunanburgh. Here is a 
fragment of an old Saxon ode, describing the battle: 

" Offspring of Edward, they in battle oft, 'gainst every foe the land de- 
fended, its hoards and its homes. 

Such was their noble natures, derived from their fathers ; the foe they 
crushed ; the Scottish people and the shipmen fated fell. 

The field reek'd with warriors' blood since the sun was up at morning 
tide ; there lay many a warrior, by javelins strewed. 

Northern men shot over shields ; also Scots, weary and war-sad. 

Five lay on the battle-stead, youthful kings by swords in slumber laid ; 

So, seven eke of Anlas's earls ; shipmen and Scots of the army countless. 

There was made to flee the Northmen's chieftain by need constrained to 
the ship's prow, with a little band. 

* Etheling, or Atheling, is a Saxon word, signifying noble, applied to 
the son of a king. 



1 868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 273 



So, Constantine also, hoary warrior, came to flight to his north country. 

He had no cause to exult in the communion of swords ; here was his 
kindred band of friends o'erthrown on the folkstead, in battle slain ; 

And his son he left in the slaughter-place, mangled with wounds, young 
in the fight. 

The Northmen departed, in their nailed barks, o'er the deep water Dub- 
lin to seek, shamed in mind. 

So, too, the brothers, both together, King and Etheling, their country 
sought, in war exulting. 

Carnage greater has not been in the island ever yet, never before this, of 
people slain by edges of swords. 

Since, from the east, hither Angles and Saxons came to land ; 

Since o'er the broad seas mighty warsmiths sought Britain, and earls 
most bold this land obtained." 



This victory left Athelstan in quiet possession for the rest of his 
reign. Like his illustrious grandfather, he proved himself as wise 
in statesmanship as he had been brave in war ; and by his just 
administration, he rendered himself equally beloved by his subjects, 
feared by his enemies, and courted by all the other European pow- 
ers. Foreign princes counted it a privilege if they could buy his 
friendship with gifts, or ally themselves with him by marriage. 
Norway sent him a splendid galley, with golden beak and purple 
sails. Hugo, the powerful Duke of the Franks, fell in love with 
his fourth sister, " in whom," says the chronicle, * " the whole 
essence of beauty had centred," and asked her in marriage of 
Athelstan, sending him, as gifts, the sword of Constantine the 
Great ; the spear of Charlemagne ; a piece of the holy cross ; a 
spine from the crown of thorns ; emeralds, so large and brilliant, 
that the faces of all who beheld them were illuminated by them ; 
and an alabaster vase, so exquisitely chased, that all the figures on 
it seemed endowed with life and motion. Strange to say, the king 
was not at all puffed up by this adulation ; but remained a liberal- 
minded and sensible man. Knowing that it was only by commer- 
cial relations with other nations, that his own country could be 
elevated and improved, and having a great deal more respect for 
that nobility which a man earns for himself, by great enterprises 



* The ancient history of England was written in Saxon, by the monks, 
in detached portions, called chronicles. These have been translated into 
English by modern scholars, and furnish the most interesting sources of 
information. 



274 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [J u ty> 

for the public weal, than for that which he derives from his ances- 
tors, he decreed that every merchant who should make three 
voyages should be entitled to the rank of thane, or nobleman. He 
made the Welsh pay him tribute of gold, silver, and also of hounds, 
with which he might rid the forests of the wild beasts with which 
they were infested. He made it a rule never to hoard riches for 
himself, but to spend all his gains on his faithful followers, or on 
the church. The Abbey of Malmesbury he especially endowed, 
and made it a sort of family tomb for the bones of his ancestors. 
There he, too, was buried, in the year 940 ; but his memory still 
lives in the hearts of the country-people thereabouts. And, if 
curiosity should ever lead you to the little old town of Malmesbury, 
you will find that the peasant-lads talk of good King Athelstan, as 
the boys in America talk of George Washington ; and that they 
think as much of the yearly festival, which, to this day, is held there 
in his honor, as the Boston boys do of the 22d of February. After 
Athelstan had slept with his ancestors, in the vaults of the old 
abbey, for upwards of a century and a half, his remains were, for 
some reason, disinterred ; and, in the chronicle of William of 
Malmesbury, who assisted at the ceremony, we find the following 
curious passage concerning this great king, whom we first saw as 
a yellow-haired laddie, toddling at his grandfather's side : "He 
was of becoming stature, thin in person ; his hair flaxen, as I have 
seen by his remains, and beautifully wreathed with golden threads." 
With the death of Athelstan began the decline of the Anglo-Saxon 
power. His brother, the young Etheling, was assassinated, after 
a short reign, by a wicked robber, whom he had banished the 
kingdom. 

During the next thirty years, the throne was successively occu- 
pied by Edred, the brother, and Edwy and Edgar, the sons of the 
murdered king. But their power was only nominal ; while Dun- 
stan, Abbot of Glastonbury, was really absolute monarch of Eng- 
land. Of noble birth and superior education, this Dunstan was, 
in the time of Athelstan, a courtier, whose varied accomplishments 
rendered him a general favorite. Having displeased the king by 
the practice of magical arts, he sought the protection of his uncle, 
the Archbishop of Canterbury, to whom he confided the secret of 
his attachment to a lady of the court, and besought him to inter- 
cede for his restoration to the royal favor. His uncle, seeing in 
Dunstan an instrument of great power for the advancement of the 
church, opposed his desires, forbade his marriage, and so worked 



1868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 275 

upon the mind of the distracted youth, by threats and promises, 
that, at last, in a moment of bodily illness, he yielded, and re- 
nounced the world and its pleasures. So, the gayest of courtiers 
became the most austere of monks, and betook himself to a hut in 
which he could not stand upright ; and there, in fasting and prayer, 
with a harp and a blacksmith's forge as his recreations, he spent 
his wretched days. And, when his groans and shrieks under the 
torture of his self-inflicted penance rung out on the midnight air, 
the superstitious rustic would bid his wife listen to the holy St. 
Dunstan, who was tweaking the nose of the Evil One with his tongs. 
In this way, Dunstan soon established a reputation for sanctity, 
such as no one ever had before ; and under the Etheling, he 
became Abbot of Glastonbury. 

The accession of Edred was, to him, a golden opportunity, for 
the king was weak in body and mind ; and the energetic and 
talented monk assumed so much authority, that he was secretary 
of state, of war, and of the treasury, -all in one. Up to this time, 
there had been no rigid distinctions between priest and people. 
The priest took his wife from his parish, and the people loved and 
trusted the clergy. It was Dunstan's aim to reform all this. He 
forbade the priesthood to marry ; deprived them of all secular inter- 
course with their people ; and labored to surround the church with 
such majesty, that ultimately, both people and prince should ac- 
knowledge prelate and pontiff as the supreme authority of the land. 
Perhaps this was religious zeal ; perhaps too, he thought that holy 
St. Dunstan stood as good a chance as any one of being Pope him- 
self some day ; but, from the moment when Dunstan wrested the 
realm from the hands of warrior kings, to place it in those of wily 
priests, the Anglo-Saxon power hastened with rapid strides to its 
downfall. He made love of country subservient to love of church ; 
he seized the wealth of the nation to enrich the monasteries ; he 
interfered in every way with the social and political rights of the 
people ; arbitrary laws were passed, and severe punishments fol- 
lowed their violation. But when, upon the death of Edgar, usually 
called " the Peaceable " (but more properly the Arrogant), who had 
been the mere tool of the ambitious churchman, Dunstan placed 
Edgar's son, a boy of thirteen, upon the throne, the people, hereto- 
fore sullenly obedient, now openly resisted. The stepmother of 
the boy, who wished her own son Ethelred, to be king, secretly 
favored the opposition ; and one day, when, tired with hunting, he 
rode up to her castle-gate, she met him with loving words, and, 



276 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 

offering him a cup of wine, betrayed him with a kiss to the dagger 
of an assassin. So, Edward the Martyr gave place to Ethelred the 
Unready. Dunstan, who had hated the latter from his birth, and 
cursed him even while he crowned him, did not long survive to 
witness the degradation into which the kingdom was dragged by 
the imbecility and treachery of this king. A divided people and a 
cowardly monarch brought the Danes once more to ravage the 
shores of England. 

Ethelred, always " unready " to meet his foe in battle, skulked 
from the contest, and weakly bought them off, from time to time, 
with tribute-money, forty-eight thousand pounds of silver at a time, 
levied from his unhappy subjects, till at last, when the sturdy 
Saxons refused to furnish any more Dane-geld, and begged their 
sovereign to lead them out to a fair fight with the enemy, he con- 
ceived and executed the vile plot of murdering all the Danes in his 
kingdom, on the festival of St. Brice, the i8th of November, 1002. 
Down came the northern raven with fell swoop, to revenge this 
cowardly massacre; and, in 1013, after a reign of thirty-seven 
years, the Saxon king fled for protection to the Duke of Normandy, 
whose sister he had married, and Sweyn, the Dane, lorded it over 
England. His son Canute, succeeded Sweyn. He at first shared 
the government with Edmund, Ethelred's son, called the Ironside, 
from his courage and manliness ; but he finally claimed the whole 
kingdom, married Ethelred's widow, banished her children by the 
former king ; and after he had thus made his power felt, he ruled 
with moderation. In the year 1030, he went to Rome, in the garb 
of a pilgrim ; and repenting of his sins, despatched a noble letter 
to his subjects, in which he declared that, having now dedicated his 
life to God, he meant to be just and merciful to poor and rich, and 
not to extort money from any, by fear or favor. In carrying out 
this Christian principle, he so engrafted his own race upon the 
native stock, that Dane and Saxon were never after distinguishable 
in England. After Canute, came Harold, his son, noted only for 
his swift running, which gave him the surname of Harefoot ; and 
then, the drunken Hardicanute, with whom, in 1041, ended the 
Danish dominion in England. 

COUSIN ALICE. 




1868.] KATIE AND SUSIE j OR, THE USEFUL DRESS. 277 



KATIE AND SUSIE; OR, THE USEFUL DRESS. 

HEN I was a little girl, I lived in a pleasant country 
village. Among my schoolmates were two little 
sisters, by the names of Katie and Susie Cutting. 
Their mother was a poor widow, and she had to 
work very hard to pay the house-rent, and buy 
food for herself and the children. But Katie and 
Susie were good little girls ; and, in their summer vacation, 
instead of going to the sea-shore, or to some nice place in the 
country to board, they staid with their mother, and went every day 
and picked berries, and sold them to help buy their food and 
clothes. 

At times, when there were no berries to pick, these little girls 
used to braid straw to sell. Even when school kept, they would 
braid, morning and evening, to help their moher all they could ; 
for they were thoughtful children. One winter, their mother was 
sick most of the time, and all that Katie and Susie could earn 
had to be spent for fuel and food ; so, they could not buy them 
any clothes ; and how to manage, when the summer school began, 
they could not tell. 

Their mother was much better ; so they could both be spared to 
go to school ; but, alas ! they had but one dress that was decent 
to wear. This one belonged to Katie, the elder of the two ; so it 
was decided that she should go to school, and then teach Susie at 
night what she had learned in the course of the day. Katie went 
every day, for a fortnight ; but Susie's little sad, sorrowful face was 
too much for her ; they must think of some way in which they could 
both go. At last, they decided that Katie should go one day, and 
Susie the next, and every evening, review the lessons of the day ; 
and, as they were nearly of a size, the same dress would do 
for both of them to wear. They had tried this plan about a week, 
when, one day, the good and gentle .teacher, Miss Buttrick, said to 
Susie, " You were not here, yesterday, I think." 

Susie's neck and face crimsoned at the remark of the teacher ; 
but looking up, and meeting her gentle glance, she answered, 
" No, ma'am ; I was not ; but sister Katie was." 
" Yes ; I remember, now," said Miss Buttrick ; " but, why didn't 
you come too ? You seem to be fond of study." 



278 KATIE AND SUSIE ; OR, THE USEFUL DRESS. [July, 

" We can't both come together, very well," answered Susie ; " but 
we are going to take turns. Sister is coming one day, and I am 
coming the next ; and then, in the evening, we are going to teach 
each other what we have learned through the day. It is the only 
way we can think of ; and we want to study very much, so we can 
keep school ourselves sometime, and take care of mother ; for now, 
she has to work very hard to take care of us." 

At recess-time, Susie still continued to study ; and the teacher 
said, " Susie, you had better lay aside your book, now, and go out 
and play with the other little girls ; the fresh air will do you good." 

" I had rather not. I am afraid I should tear my dress ; but I 
will stand at the window, and look out. if you are willing." 

There was such a peculiar tone in Susie's voice, as she said, " I 
am afraid I should tear my dress," that Miss Buttrick was led to 
notice it particularly. It was nothing but a dark- colored, ninepenny 
print, very neatly made, and had never been washed. While look- 
ing at it, she remembered that every day Katie had been at school, 
she had worn the same dress, or one just like it. The next day, 
Susie was absent, but Katie occupied her seat. There was some- 
thing very interesting in these two little girls, one twelve years old, 
and the other ten and a half, agreeing to take turns in attending 
school ; and Miss Buttrick was led to observe them closely. 

They were very pretty children, of delicate forms, and quite small 
hands and feet. Katie had beautiful dark eyes and chestnut hair ; 
while Susie's eyes were the color of the June sky, and her neck was 
covered with a profusion of golden curls. She noticed that they 
both paid close attention to their studies ; and Katie retained 
her seat at recess-time, the same as Susie had done. Miss But- 
trick advised her to go out and play ; but she received the same 
answer, "I might tear my dress." This led Miss Buttrick to 
scrutinize the dress more closely, and she became certain that it 
was the same dress which was worn by the two. It did not fit 
Susie as well as it did her sister ; it was rather long for her ; and 
she evidently did not feel at ease when the teacher looked earnestly 
towards her. 

This discovery was one that made a deep impression upon the 
truly benevolent heart of the teacher. She ascertained where they 
lived and although quite straightened in her own circumstances, 
she went, that night, to the only store in the village, found a few 
yards of the same material, purchased a dress for little Susie, and 
sent it in such a way, that the donor could not he detected. 



l868.] KATIE AND SUSIE ; OR, THE USEFUL DRESS. 279 

Very bright and happy looked Katie Cutting the next morning, 
as she entered the school at an early hour. She only waited to 
take off her things, and hang them up, ere she approached Miss 
Buttrick, and said, " After this week, Susie is coming to school with 
me every day ; and oh, I am so glad ! " 

" Well done ! That is good news," replied the teacher, kindly. 
" I see that Susie is fond of her books ; and I am thankful that 
you both can have an opportunity to study ; but, can your mother 
spare both of you ? " continued the teacher, pleasantly. 

" Oh, yes, ma'am yes, ma'am ; she can now. Something hap- 
pened, that she didn't expect ; and she is just as glad about it 
as we are." She hesitated a moment ; but she was too happy to 
keep still ; her heart was brimming over with joy ; and when 
children are happy, it is just as natural for them to tell the cause, 
as it is for a bird to warble its morning-song when the sun rises. 
And out of the fulness of her heart, she told the teacher her story. 
She told of her mother's sickness ; that they had been obliged to 
use what they could earn for household purposes ; that they had 
only one dress between them, so that but one of them could come 
at a time; and then, she added, "O Miss Buttrick! last night, 
somebody sent sister a dress, just like mine ; and now she cart 
come to school too. Oh, if I only knew who it was, I would get 
down on my knees, and thank them ; and so would sister too. 
But we don't know, and can't imagine ; but we have done all we 
could we've prayed for them. And, O Miss Buttrick! we are 
so happy, and so glad ! Ain't you, too ? " 

" Yes ; indeed, I am," the teacher replied. 

The next Monday, little Susie entered the schoolroom, her face 
radiant with smiles, and approaching the teacher, she exclaimed, 
in tones musical as a nightingale's, " O Miss Buttrick ! I'm com- 
ing to school every day ; and I am so glad ! " 

Miss Buttrick told me afterwards, that she felt then, as she had 
never felt before, " that it was more blessed to give, than to re- 
ceive." I think, no millionaire, when he sees his name in public 
print, lauded for his thousand-dollar charities, ever felt half as 
happy as did the poor school-teacher, who deprived herself of some 
coveted pleasure, that she might buy that little fatherless girl a 
calico dress. ANNIE PHILLIPS. 



280 MINK CURTISS ; OR, [J u ty> 





MINK CURTISS; OR, LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 

BY AN OLD HUNTER. 

CHAPTER I. 

(Continued from the June Number!) 

|HE boys followed the old man willingly, as he strode 
before them, rifle in hand, pausing now and then to 
shoot a squirrel for their mother's supper. 

" I tell yer, boys, it requires mighty clus squintin' ter 
pick them fellers off of ther top of er tall tree with er single bul- 
let," he said, somewhat proud of his skill as a marksman. " But 
thar's enuff now fer yer supper, and thar's ther mash and ther rat- 
houses." 

They saw, stretching away between them and the river, a low, 
swampy piece of ground, and understood his corruption of the word 
" marsh." They saw some things, too, that looked like little round 
hills ; but were puzzled about the rats. 

" I never knew that rats lived in such a place," said Frank. " I 
always thought that they stayed about houses and barns." 

" I don't mean them kind o' rats," replied the old man, with one 
of his quiet smiles ; "but mush-rats." 

" Oh ! muskrats ? I understand now." 

" Wai, them ar things that look like hay-cocks am thar houses j 
and I kin tell, jest as soon as I see one, what kind of er winter and 
spring we ar goin' ter have." 

" I don't see any difference in them." 

" Likely not, fer yer hain't hunter-wise. But I'll jest tell yer how 
it am. Ef ther winter be ergoin' ter be hard, and cold, they make 
thar houses very thick ; and ef ther spring am goin' ter be wet, and 
ther water high, they build 'em with two stories out of ther water, 



l868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 281 

and one in. Ef not, only two stories. I've dug inter them many's 
ther time, and allers found that ter be ther case." 

" But, how can they tell ? It is more than a man can do." 

" Very like, very like. It's ther instinct that does it ; ther same 
kind er knawledge that makes er bird build its fust nest, jest as 
well as any other ; that makes ther squirrel hide nuts ; ther bee 
lay up honey ; ther coon curl up in er warm tree ; ther bar, in its 
den ; and ther wild geese and ducks, and sich like, go south. It's 
instinct, boys ; and that ar is erbout ther same thing as reason in 
man both come from the good Lord." 

" And do they, also, lay up something to eat when the streams 
are frozen over ? " 

" Not er bit on it. All they need they kin find in the water, most 
as well as in the summer-time ; for they live on fish more'n ony- 
thin' else, though they ar mighty fond of some kinds of vegertables. 
Parsnips, now, am ther very best kind of mush-rat bait." 

" But, don't they ever freeze in their houses ? " 

" Not much. They ar too cunnin' fer that ; and have it allers 
fixed, so that they kin slide inter ther water jest whenever they 
want 'er." 

" Is their fur valuable ? " 

" Not very ; and it hain't worth nothin' in ther summer. When 
ther weather gits cold, then we ge arter them." 

" How do you catch them ? Excuse me, sir but I always like 
to learn when I can." 

" That's right, my boy ; that's right. Never be afeard ter ax 
questions. It's ther best way ter learn, that I know on ; and er 
man that won't answer as civil er spoken boy as yer ar, must be 
crosser nor er bar. How do we catch 'em ? Wai, sometimes in 
steel traps ; but ther Injun way am ther best, arter all. They're 
knowin'some critters, them same red-skins, in all that berlongs ter 
huntin' and fishin', and sich like (that was a favorite expression of 
the old hunter) ; and it's mighty leetle ther white man kin teach 'em 
except what am bad. But I'll tell yer how they catch 'em. Some- 
times they creep up softly, and drive er long, sharp spear down 
through ther houses ; and then dig 'em out. I've known as high as 
three taken in that way at er time. Sometimes, when ther ice is 
thin, and easy ter see through, they drive' em out, and chase 'em, 
until they git kinder short of breath, and put ther noses out er ther 
water fer air. Then they strike er heavy blow on ther ice, which 
kind'er stuns them, and cut them out." 



282 MINK CURTISS. [J u ty> 

" Are they good to eat ? " 

"Wai, ther Injuns eat them, as they do almost everythin' ; and I 
have too, when I war nigh erbout starvin' ; but I can't say that I 
have any hankerin' arter them." 

" Are there any other curious things about the ' mash ? ' " asked 
Frank, saucily, mimicking the honest old hunter. 

" Yes, yes ; lots on 'em. But ye'll have ter see them another 
time. It won't be very long berfore the sun goes down." 

" How can you tell that ? You have no watch." 

" Wai, thar ar er thousand ways ; but it's enuff fer me ter see 
yonder crows. They know its comin' on night, and ar flyin' strait 
as er gunshot to ther nest. And, jest harken ter ther frogs. Thar's 
music fer yer. Some other time, I'll tell yer more. Come, go back 
with me ter ther cabin ; and I'll gin yer some venerson, and put yer 
in ther way of goin' as strait hum as ther crows did. Do you know 
how ter tell ther pints of compass which is north, and which is 
south ? I mean, when yer am in ther woods ? " 

"No, sir." 

" Jest look at this ar tree. Do yer see how much thicker the 
moss am on one side, than ther t'other ? " 

" Certainly ; it is very easy to be did." 

" Wall, that am ther north side. Oilers remember that, and yer 
kin never git lost." 

" But, suppose you were not in the woods ? " 

" Out on ther perarer ? Wai, by ther stars." 

" But if there were none to be seen ? " 

" Ther good Lord pervided fer that. Thar am er plant grows in 
ther perarer that we call ther compass-plant, that'll tell yer ther 
way. I'll show it ter yer most ony time. But, here we ar at ther 
cabin." 

Liberally supplied with venison and squirrels, the boys, after 
many thanks, were about to start home, when the latter suddenly 
broke out with 

" When will you take us deer-hunting ? " 

" I am going termorrow I'll be over yer way erbout sunrise ; 
and ef yer father am willin', yer kin go erlong. But, hurry hum, 
now; and my respects ter yer father and mother." 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 



283 




A HEAVY CLOCK. Trinity clock, 
New York, is the heaviest in Amer- 
ica. The frame stands nine feet 
long, five high, and three wide. 
The barrels are twenty inches, turn- 
ing three times in twenty-four hours. 
The winding wheels are driven by 
a pinion and arbor. On the latter 
is placed a jack, or a wheel, a pinion, 
and a crank ; eight hundred and 
fifty turns of the crank are required 
to draw up each of the weights. It 
takes seven hundred feet of three- 
inch rope for the three cords ; and 
the winding-up of the weights con- 
sumes more than an hour of time, 
and requires the labor of two men. 
The pendulum is eighteen feet 
long, and makes twenty-five beats. 
At first, the clock would not run 
seven days, and the builder was 
obliged to put in new main- 
wheels. It was at last finished, 
and an agreement was made with 
the sexton's son that he should re- 
ceive twenty-five cents whenever it 
stopped, provided that he at once 
notified the time-keeper ; but as it 
stopped every day, and frequently 
three or four times a day, the ex- 
pense of feeding the informer be- 
came irksome to bear, and the 
cumbrous timepiece was placed in 
new hands. By this time, it had 
gained a poor reputation, which 
clings to it even in our day. The 
weights are eight hundred, twelve 
hundred, and fifteen hundred pounds 



respectively, and drop fifty feet. A 
large box is placed at the bottom of 
the well, which holds about a bale 
of cotton-waste, to check the fall of 
a weight in case of accident. Two 
years ago, it was wound up on Sat- 
urday ; and on Sunday morning, the 
chiming-cord broke, letting the fif- 
teen-hundred-pounds weight fall a 
distance of fifty feet, causing much 
damage. The cotton - box was 
strongly braced on all sides, but 
the force of the blow burst it open. 
The contents were well scattered, 
otherwise the organ-bellows, just in 
line below, would have contracted 
under a pressure somewhat greater 
than that which the " blower " was 
accustomed to exert upon them. A 
much better clock could be built of 
the metal contained in the frame 
and main- wheels of Trinity's. 

EARLY RISING. Jump out of 
bed the moment you awake. He 
who hesitates when called is lost. 
The mind should be made up in A 
minute, for early rising is one of 
those subjects that admit of no 
turning over. 

" WHAT would I give," said 
Charles Lamb, " to call my mother 
back to earth for a single day, to 
ask her pardon, upon my knees, for 
all those acts by which I grieved 
her gentle spirit ! " 



284 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[July, 




EVERY one of the May puzzles 
has been answered, except No. 121 ; 
although, the longest list of correct 
answers lacks three of being com- 
plete. 

tit 




takes the prize (his second), and 
gets the gold pen. 



QUESTIONS, ENIGMAS, CHARADES, 
ETC. 

183. I am composed of 24 letters : 
M y 2 3> 1 6, 5, 5, 20, 23, 1,6, 

2 3> 4> 13? is a large river. 
My 23, 2, 12, 11, 2, 24, 19, is 

a bay. 
My 19, 12, 9, 6, 15, 1 6, 5, is 

a city. 

My 4, 7, 6, 23, 1 8, is a city. 
My 17, 3, 18, 21, is a cape. 
My 8, 21, 22, 14, is a lake. 
My 16, n, 6, 10, is a city. 
My whole comprises all these. 
Ruble Linden. 



I am composed of 14 letters : 

My 11, 4, 3, 14, is an article 
of the toilet. 

My 8, 6, 7, is a pronoun. 

My 2, 10, is a pronoun. 

My i, 9, 13, is a boy's nick- 
name. 

My 14, 12, 5, 6, is an adjec- 
tive. 

My whole is the assumed 
name of an American au- 
thor. Eugene. 



ANAGRAMS. 

185. To gain mire. Fred. 

1 86. Rosie, get a car. 

A I lie Frank. 

187. Lo ! Sue sends us. 

Double You See. 

1 88. Henry I. Coit, P. M., Sebin, 

L. I. Ino. 

189. Lose a rig. Tommy. 

190. At it ! tiny cur ! Belle. 

Fill the following blanks with the 
same words transposed : 

191. He went to his destination by 

the - (five letters). 

F.F. 

192. A lay in a (six let- 

ters). Fred. 

193. He bought a yard of and 

the store. 



194. 



The 
to see 



went to the theatre 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



195. My first is a vehicle, so is my 

third ; 
My second, of speech is a 

very small part. 
My whole, safe alike for man, 

beast, or bird, 
A vehicle too, neither chaise, 
gig, nor cart. Tetnpy. 

196. Entire I am a piece of money ; 

change my head, and make 
(i) part of the body, (2) to 
couple, and (3) to push. 

NAMES OF CELEBRATED MEN. 

197. To consume, and part of the 

body. 

198. A pronoun, and a celebrated 

fort in* Russia. 

199. A vehicle, and one of Napo- 

leon's field marshals. 



200. To bestow. 



Royal Blue. 



SQUARE WORD. 
201. Armor. 

A quantity of land. 
A metal. 

To give, upon condition of re- 
payment. Saxon. 
210. 



202. My first is in the teapot hid, 

My third in sugar seen ; 
My second likes good coffee 

best, 
My fourth is drowned in 

cream. 

And in October, you will see 
My whole, on many a laden 
tree. 

M. C. Fletcher. 

WORDS ENIGMATICALLY EX- 
PRESSED. 

203. Sip wine. Wolverine. 

204. Ascend a hill. 

Violet Forest. 

205. Gather again. Ego Ipse. 

206. You had lunch at ten o'clock. 

A. R. T. 



207. 38o28o5ooi6o2oo. 

208. 15005250. 
2 9- r, S r, 



Joe Kose. 
A Wolf. 

Quaker. 



WES 






60508. 



Willie Wood. 



f^Hr* Answers must reach me before 
the Wi of August. Those received 
later 'will not be credited. 

ggp" Send all communications in- 
tended for the PUZZLE DRAWER to 
"Aunt Sue," Box 1 1 1, P. O., Brook- 
lyn, N. Y. 



ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN MAY 
NUMBER. 

117. The city of New York. 

1 1 8. Knight of the Guelph of Han- 

over. 

119. Cartridge. 

1 20. Spartan. 

121. Gentianella. 



286 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[July, 



122. Little Dorrit : liquid, into, 

temper, thunder, lithodomi, 
element. 

123. Dover (roved). 

1 24. Cork (rock). 

125. Revel (lever). 

126. Elvas (vales). 

127. Rome (more). 

128. Basle (sable). 

129. Capricorn. 

130. Till a thunder-shower is quite 

over, never stand under a 
a tree. 

131. Hypotrachelium. 

132. Arrangements. 

133. Personate. 

134. Ignored. 

135. Taxidermists. 

136. Shot, host. 

137. Steal, least, slate ; tales, stale. 

138. Idolatry, dilatory. 

1 39. Tush ! shut, huts. 

140. Annie's insane. 

141. Mantle, mantel, lament, mental. 

142. Ivy (IV). (Ixia gives " Cay- 

enne K N," which is equally 
good.) 

143. Golden rod. 

144. Prince's feather. 

145. Candy-tuft. 

146. Excessive boasting is a sign of 

ignorance and cowardice. 

Of the above Puzzles, 
Max answers all but 121, 138, 145. 

Chester answers all but 118, 120, 
121, 139, 141. 

Keystone answers all but 121, 131, 
137, 138, 141. 

Joe Kose answers all but 118, 120, 
121, 126, 131, 138. 



Florian answers all but 118, 121, 

125, 131, 138, 145. 

Ixia answers all but 118, 119, 121 

126, 128, 131, 138. 

Anna W. N. answers all but 118, 
120, 121, 126, 131, 138, 146. 

F. R. S. answers all but 118, 119, 

120, 123, 126, 133, 138, 146. 

Sadie C. answers 117, 123, 124, 125, 
126, 127, 129, 142. 

Lou answers 117, 124, 125, 127, 142, 
H3, 144- 

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 

Max. Is your address the same 
as it was last September ? 

Kate C. H. Do you mean to say, 
that the person who wrote the letter 
with your initials, and who sent " one 
enigma, one charade, and one re- 
bus," to " Box 1 1 1," was only seven 
years old ? Our puzzles are volun- 
tary contributions from subscribers. 

I want each of the Cousins to get 
a Craig Microscope. It ought to be 
in every house, as well as a Bible. 
It is a little pocket-lecturer, and a 
benefactor, inasmuch as it brings us 
nearer to God's thoughts. It is 
always ready for use, needing no 
change of focus. If you want to 
see the snakes and things in vinegar, 
just lift the little button, off the top, 
put a drop of the vinegar right on 
the lens, put back the button, and 
behold them. Apply a drop of cam- 
phor in the same way, and watch 
the crystals form. It will be sent 
by mail, postage paid, for $2.75. 
Mounted objects (and be sure you 
get the Lord's Prayer), $1.50 a 
dozen. Address " George Mead, 
Racine, Wis." It was sent to me 
for notice ; but it is little notice it 
would have got, if it were not really 
the valuable little thing that it is. 

Thanks for enigmas, etc., to Key- 



stone, Lou. 
W. N. 



Sadie C., and Anna 



i868.] MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 287 




Now that the summer vacation 
is near, we shall hope to receive 
some letters from various former 
contributors, describing the holiday 
pleasures which they are enjoying. 
Mountain trips, sea-side adventures, 
Fourth of July festivities, boat-races, 
and whatever is likely to interest 
both the go-abroad and the stay-at- 
home people. Cousin Tribulation 
thinks she may have something to 
tell next month, about a cruise in 
the School-ship ; but she does not 
intend to do all the chatting, and 
leaves plenty of room for other and 
younger writers. 

All business letters should be 
directed to the publisher, as Miss 
Alcott has nothing to do with that 
department. 

C. D. Your communication was 
very pleasant to receive, but is too 
long for the Chat. 

FROM Cousin May, we have an 
anecdote of a little boy, who took, 
to amuse him, Miss Lamb's Tales 
from Shakspeare and read the story 
of " Romeo and Juliet." When he 



had finished, his sister asked him 
what it was about, and how he liked 
it. 

" Well," said he ; " the Capulets 
had a party, and didn't invite the 
' Montages.' 1 They were mad about 
it, and had a fight. / don't think 
much of it." 

KITTY CARROLL sends the follow- 
ing original announcement of " The 
Marriage of Sweet William and 
MariGold." [N. B. The most re- 
liable account of the same] : 

You did not have a correct ac- 
count of the wedding of Sweet 
William and Mari Gold, so I will 
give you all the particulars. 

The ceremony took place in the 
Virgin's Bower, out on the Heath, 
not far from the Beech, which is 
quite a Pop(u)lar place. It looked 
very Spruce, for Poly Anthus had 
swept it clean with her Broom. 
The Sun flower shone very bright ; 
and it was a fine day, which was 
ucky ; for, if there had come up a 
shower, there must have been a 
House-Leek. There were Phlox 
of people at the wedding. I can 
only speak of a few. There were 
Ele Campane, and An Gelica, from 
the country; with their beaux, Tim- 
othy Grass, and Bil Berry, whg 



288 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



[July. 



was proud as he could be of his 
Bachelor's Buttons. Old Mother 
Wort, Chamomile (came a mile). 
The Lily of the Valley was there ; 
and the Rutland Beauty, so full of 
her London Pride, that her looks 
seemed to say, "Touch-me-not." 
Ragged Robin came too, with his 
Ragged Lady ; and Bouncing Bet 
entered with such a hop, that she 
quite disarranged her old Maid's 
Curls. There was the Mourning 
Bride, whose sad garb showed 
plainly her rememberance of that 
day when she cried, " My Love- 
lies-bleeding ! " Behind her came 
the Queen of the Meadow, with her 
Crown Imperial ; Rose, escorted 
by Mr. Pe. Ony ; Violet, with her 
stylish lover, Mr. Hi. Biscus ; and 
simple May Weed, with Peri Win- 
kle. 

There were four bridesmaids ; 
An Emone, Jessa Mine, Core 
Opsis, and Rosa Mary, all wearing 
Ladies'-Ear-drops and' Ladies' Slip- 
pers. The bride looked most be- 
witching in a Lilac dress, embroi- 
dered with Gold-thread, and her 
Maiden Hair adorned with a Prin- 
cess Feather, which was the Ladies' 
Delight. When all was ready, at 
Four-o'clock, Oleander came for- 
ward, leaning on Aaron's Rod, to 
give the bride away. Elder Berry, 
in his Monk's Hood, performed the 
ceremony ; and Jon Quil recorded 
the marriage in the Book of Na- 
ture, and sealed it with Solomon's 
Seal, for which the bridegroom 
gave him a Penny Royal, which 
was greatly to the Heart's-Ease of 
Jon Quil, who immediately put the 
coin in his Shepherd's Purse ; but 
Dan de Lion, who had not yet 
sown his Wild Oats, and who al- 
ways likes to cut a Caper, declared, 
with a comical, Rye face, that it 
wasn't Currant. 

Now, Iris waved a Flag, the 
Trumpet flower blew a blast, the 
Canterbury Bells rung for joy, 
and all the gentlemen saluted 



the bride's 7lips ; at which, the 
Prim-rose was so shocked, that she 
fainted away ! At this, there was 
quite a Rush. Daffo Dil cried out, 
" Bring Feather-few and Burn-et ; " 
but Hen Bane got some Balm of 
Gilead, and brought her to. The 
envious Crocus declared it was all 
because she was Pine-ing to Sea 
Kale ; but Pe Tunia said she was a 
Sensitive Plant, and the Crocus 
should Rue it. Here, Bal(d) Sam, a 
Smart-weed, who acted as master of 
ceremonies, was obliged to interfere, 
and restore order with his Golden 
Rod. 

Then came refreshments ; syrup 
from the Honey-suckle, prepared 
with Sweet Peas and the Flower- 
ing Almond ; Cocoa-nut milk, and 
wine, in Pitcher Plants ; and all the 
varieties of the season. When all 
was over, in the confusion of clear- 
ing up, Tom Ato, whom we can 
hardly Cauliflower (call a flower), 
was seen Cabbage-ing something; 
but he said it was But-ter-cup 
(but a cup), which was nothing, 
and he could prove his Honesty. 

The Night-shades falling now, 
Wil Low sent up Sky Rockets, and 
lighted the Fire Fly lamps ; and the 
company danced for hours, until 
some of the Sage said, "Lettuce (let 
us) go home, for it is Thyme ; the 
Star of Bethlehem has set, the 
Morning Glories are beginning to 
dawn, and the Wake Robins are 
all A-ster (astir)." So, the gentle- 
men fastened on their Lark Spurs, 
and the ladies put on their Fox- 
gloves, and all departed, the bride 
saying to each one, " Forget-me- 
not ; " one Cockscomb crying ,out, 
" This wedding can't be Beet:' 1 

CICERO writes : I will, when I 
have leisure, try to get subscribers 
for the " Museum," as it is the best 
magazine for boys and girls that I 
have ever seen. 

Thank you, Cicero. Send along 
the names ; the more, the merrier. 




VOL. I.] 



AUGUST, 1868. 



[NO. 8. 



THE PERSUADABLE PIG. 




LONG time ago, in a far distant country, 
when the world was very different from what 
it is now, when everything happened and 
nobody cared, an old woman and her son 
lived together in a little cottage, and led a right merry life, 
as long as their money lasted. They ate and drank of the 
best, for they both loved that which was good, and enough of it; 
and why should they care what would happen tomorrow, before 
tomorrow came ? At last, that tomorrow came, which over-anxious 
people always predict will come, to those who spend right and left ; 
and the old woman and her shock-headed son, sat by the hearth, 
not by the fire, for there was none, and looked at each other with 
hungry eyes. There was nothing to eat, and no money to buy 
anything. The old woman had turned her pockets inside out, in 
hopes of finding a stray copper ; and the boy had rummaged all 
the closets for a bit of dry bread. Nothing remained to them but 
remembrance of the dainties which they had devoured ; and that 
only made them the more hungry. 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, In the year 1868, by H. B. FULLER, in the Clerk's 
Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



290 THE PERSUADABLE PIG. [August, 

" Nothing, Jack ! " cried the old woman. " Nothing left." 

" Nothing, mammy," repeated the boy. " People always said it 
would be so ; and now, I hope they are satisfied. If they like it, I 
don't." 

Just then came the most dolorous, prolonged squeal from the 
pig, whose sty was very near the house. 

" Hear him ! " cried the old woman, in a rage ; " hear the wretch 
squeal ! He is no hungrier than we are ; and we don't squeal." 

" I shall before long, if I don't find something to put in my 
stomach. It squeals now all to itself." 

" He shan't squeal, if we can't," said his mother, seizing a broom. 
" I'll stop his noise for him." 

" No, mother ; don't beat him. Let's kill him, and eat him." 

At these words, the pig squealed still louder, as if he had heard 
what they were saying, and preferred being alive and hungry, to 
being killed. 

" We could not kill him," said the old woman ; " he is a fierce, 
'rageous pig. It took three men and a boy to get him into the 
sty. And, besides, we've no fire to cook him ; and I am not 
hungry enough to eat raw pork." 

" Then, I'll lead him to the butcher's, and sell him." 

The old woman leaned back in her chair, and laughed, louder 
than the pig squealed. " I think I see you doing it. Lead a pig, 
forsooth ! You don't know the creatures." 

" Well, drive, then, if it suits you better." 

" Drive, if you will ; but you will find that you will have to go 
where the pig wishes, and not where you wish." 

" Just wait a bit ; I'll talk to him, and persuade him. You give 
me the clothes-line, and you will soon see me tie one end of it 
round the pig's fore-leg, and walk him off, as quiet as a lamb." 

The mother handed Jack the line, with a grim smile. "You 
have a smooth tongue of your own, Jack \ but, smooth as it is, I 
doubt if you can talk a pig into being killed." 

Jack took the rope, and proceeding to the sty, leaned over the 
side, where the pig, instead of lying flat on his stomach in the 
mire, as a well-fed, happy, contented pig should do, was running 
about, eveiy now and then pushing his nose into the mud, in the 
vain hope of rooting up some old bone or refuse bit, which he had 
utterly despised in his days of plenty. He paused, now and then 
uttering a most horrible squeal, which could be heard more than 
a mile, apparently calling for somebody, he did not care who, to 



1 868.] THE PERSUADABLE PIG. 29! 

come and feed him. Jack thumped on the sty to attract the pig's 
attention ; but he cast a glance at him, and finding he had nothing 
for him, continued his rooting and squealing. He then gathered 
some grass, and threw it into the sty. The pig ran at it, and 
devoured it greedily, and then turned his little, white-lashed eyes 
up at him, and grunted for more. 

" I wish I could eat grass," muttered Jack to himself ; then turn- 
ing to the pig, " Piggy, dear ! " The pig would not listen when 
the grass was eaten, and turning his back very unceremoniously 
upon him, began exploring again. 

" He has not even the manners of a beast ! " said Jack ; " but I 
suppose he can hear and eat at the same time." 

So, dropping the rope, he gathered a large quantity of grass and 
pigweed, of which, you may suppose, he found plenty all about 
such an untidy yard as he and his mother kept (and what was the 
use of working, when you could live without it), and heaped it up 
by the sty. Then, taking it up by handsful, he flung it over, 
keeping the pig close to him all the time, waiting for a little more. 

" Now, piggy," said Jack, " you are a very pretty pig ; as pretty a 
pig, as I ever saw " 

" Ouf! ouf ! " muttered the pig, looking up for another mouthful 
and catching it on his nose before it reached the ground. 

" I have often thought it was a shame, that such a pretty creature 
as you are, should be shut up where nobody could see how pretty 
you were." 

" Chomp ! chomp ! " went the pig, who had got hold of an un- 
commonly juicy pigweed, and relished it very well, ttiough his 
mind rather ran on a bucket of good swill ; and pigweed for 
a hungry pig, was something like lettuce for a starving man, a 
little diversion, till something better came. 

" So, I thought I would come today, and see if you would not 
like to take a little walk with me, where you could see some other 
pigs, and enjoy yourself." 

The pig bent his dirty, scanty-haired ears towards Jack, and 
wagged his short tail vigorously, but the boy could not tell whether 
at his words, or at the large bunch of grass, which he threw down 
all over his back. The pig cared not at all for other pigs, in- 
deed, he rather despised their society when there was anything to 
eat, and infinitely preferred their room to their company. But 
now, when there was nothing they could take away from him, it 
might be as well to see if there might not be something he could 



292 THE PERSUADABLE PIG. [August, 

take away from them ; and so, while trying to shake the grass off of 
his back, and get it into his mouth, he was really listening to Jack's 
proposal, though he did not appear to be paying the least attention. 
He wished, however, that his master would be gentleman enough 
to give him his grass in a decent manner, for even pigs have some 
notion of propriety, and some idea of how their food should .be 
served. 

" And now," said Jack, " for fear that something might happen 
as we walk along, and you should lose sight of me, and not be able 
to find me again, and so not see any little pigs to play with, after 
all, I'll just tie this rope round one of your fore-legs ; and then, 
whenever you wish, you can pull me up to you, and I will go 
wherever you would like." 

A sly, comical twinkle came into the pig's eyes, as he heard this. 
" Ouf, ouf," he muttered ; and it sounded so much like " Yes, yes," 
that Jack stept over the sty, rope in hand, first tossing a large bunch 
of grass where the pig could reach it, and while he was busily eat- 
ing it, he slipped the rope round one of his fore-legs, and made it 
fast. Then taking a board out of the sty, he walked out, followed 
by the pig, who, for once, was of the same mind as his master. 
The old woman, who had been pressing her wrinkled nose against 
the glass, till it was white and smooth, saw with surprise, Jack step 
out of the sty, followed by the pig, who was so delighted with the 
prospect of a walk, that he forgot to squeal. 

" Look here, mother ! " shouted Jack ; " I've got him." 

Just then, the pig, who saw the end of a bone sticking out from 
under the door-stone, ran towards it with such rapidity, that he 
drew the rope almost out of Jack's hands, and nearly pulled him 
off his legs. The old woman ran to the door, as she saw her son's 
shock-head disappearing with astonishing swiftness. 

" Throw me my cap," shouted Jack, who held on manfully ; 
" throw me my cap ; piggy and I have started." 

He made one or two ineffectual attempts to pull the creature 
away from his bone ; but finally, he sat down on the door-stone, 

" There's no hurry," said he to himself ; " the day is before us, 
and if I let him have his way this time, perhaps he will let me have 
mine next." " Pig has not the least idea where he is going, mother , 
and be sure you don't tell him," said Jack, as she appeared with 
the cap. 

The pig, having satisfied himself that nothing farther was to be 
done with the bone, started off again, this time fortunately in the 



i868.] 



THE PERSUADABLE PIG. 



293 




right direction ; and the old woman pulled off her only remaining 
shoe, and threw it after her son, for good luck. The shoe struck 
the pig on the back, and he turned round, apparently with the 
idea of resenting the insult ; but seeing the shoe, caught it in 
his mouth, and began to chew it. Not finding it appetizing 
enough in his hungry condition, he soon dropped it, and con- 
tinued to walk on at such a rapid rate, that he almost pulled his 
master's wrist out of joint. The latter had taken the precaution to 
wind the rope around his arm, to keep it from slipping through his 
fingers, and he was now dragged from one side of the road to the 
other .by the erratic pig, who varied his course as his fancy dic- 
tated. His little blue eyes seemed perpetually roving about, either 
in search of his brother pigs that he was taken out to see, or else 
in the hope of finding something to eat. He had a strange propen- 
sity for diving into yards and doorways, in spite of Jack's pleasant 
words, and his assurances that no pigs lived there \ and he was so 



294 THE PERSUADABLE PIG. [August, 

obstinate in this respect, that Jack was obliged to exert all his 
strength to prevent his being dragged after him. 

At last, they came near the town, at the entrance of which stood 
the tavern ; the sight of which made both the pig's and Jack's 
mouths water, at the thought of the good cheer which could be 
had there for man and beast. Jack knew it by his own experience, 
for many a fine dinner had he eaten there when he had money to 
spend ; and the pig was not such a stupid stay-at-home, but that he 
knew a tavern when he saw it. By one of those lucky chances, 
which sometimes happen to the most unfortunate, as Jack was 
holding down his head, feeling a little ashamed at being seen 
in his present beggarly condition by any of his former comrades, 
he saw a small coin in the dust under his feet. He pounced upon 
it so quickly, that he nearly pulled the pig over. The latter gave 
an astonished squeal as he turned his head backwards, wondering 
what it was his master had found, and whether it would do for him 
to eat. 

Jack considered a moment. He was sadly in want of something 
to eat and drink, but the coin was too small to buy both. He 
thought, on the whole, he would have something to drink; but 
what should he do with the pig meanwhile ? 

" Piggy?" sa -id he, unwinding the rope from his arm, but still 
keeping it in his hand, " I am going in here for a little while, to see 
some friends of mine, and enquire if their little pigs are at home, 
and where we shall find them. I shall keep tight hold of the rope, 
and whenever you pull it, I will come out ; so, be a good pig, and 
stay close by the door." 

Pig bent his ears forward, then turned them back, and apparently 
agreeing to every word that his master had said, followed him 
quietly, and sat down by the door, and looked into the highway with 
a sage, deliberative air. Meanwhile, Jack, still holding the rope 
in his hand, entered the dining-room, and tossing down his money, 
called for a cup of hot coffee. The pretty servant-girl was in no 
hurry to wait upon such a shabby customer, though she had taken 
many a shilling from him when he was in better circumstances. 
When he repeated his demand, in louder and more peremptory 
tones, she slowly took up the coffee-pot, and poured out the bever- 
age, very little coffee and very much water, filling the cup up to 
the brim with the latter, which she persisted in pouring out, with 
her head turned half over her shoulder, to look at a young child, 
who was blowing soap-bubbles on a chair at the window. 



1 868.] THE PERSUADABLE PIG. 295 

" Stop ! " said Jack, " not too much of that ; " and to prevent his 
coffee from being ruined, he seized the cup with the hand in which 
he held the rope, and was about to carry it to his mouth, when his 
hand was suddenly pulled down, half the contents of the cup 
spilled, and he was dragged nearly across the floor. 

The girl screamed. "The man's bewitched, or something 
worse," she cried. 

"Confound the pig," cried Jack between his teeth, tightening 
the rope around his wrist, and changing the cup to the other 
hand. He had hardly tasted the remainder of the coffee, before 
the landlord, who had heard the scream of the servant, came 
hastily into the room, just as the impatient pig gave another des- 
perate twitch at the rope. This nearly took Jack off his legs, 
and sent him reeling against the landlord, who, not expecting 
any such reception, tumbled onto the floor ; and Jack, falling 
on top of him, flung the remainder of the coffee in his face. The 
landlord sputtered, and Jack stormed, and both rose to their feet. 
The host began to wipe coffee out of his eyes, and Jack wound the 
rope up on his arm in such a rage, that he pulled the pig into the 
front entry in spite of himself. 

To enter the tavern, the pig was not at all averse, if he had only 
been brought there in a proper manner. Tired of waiting, he had 
already given his master two gentle hints to remind him of his 
promises. And the last twitches had been caused by the pig's curi- 
osity to know what was going on inside. He saw a window open, 
and smelt something very savory ; and not doubting but that some 
of his brother pigs were making merry, he walked to the casement, 
stood up on his hind-legs, and looked in. In doing this, he dragged 
his master away from the table, and spilled his coffee. But, sure 
enough, he saw pigs eating and drinking to their heart's content ; 
pigs, though they wore clothes, and did not appear to have but two 
legs. " Ah ! " thought he, " how much that one in the white cap 
at the head of the table looks as my fat mother did before the man 
in the white frock carried her away." What a noise they made, 
eating as fast as he did ! It was more than he could endure. 
He wagged his tail, and squealed in a frenzied rage at the sight 
of all the good things on the table so much to eat, and he to 
have none ! he made a furious spring, hoping to leap into the 
room, and in the general fright and confusion, secure some deli- 
cate morsel for himself. By this jump, he dragged Jack and the 
landlord to the ground, and at the same time so entangled the rope, 



THE PERSUADABLE PIG. 



[August, 




that he could only get his fore-feet on the window-sill, where he hung 
and squealed till one of the men who was eating, turned round to 
see what was the matter. When he discovered the pig's dirty 
nose, he seized a huge tin dish-cover, and running towards him, 
was about to rap him over the head, when Jack, rising to his feet, 
and pulling the rope furiously, drew the pig away before the man 
had a chance to hit him one blow. 

Seeing the pig disappear so suddenly, he stood, with his mouth 
wide open and the cover in his hand, looking out of the window. 
At last, muttering to himself, "the beast must be crazy," he sat 
down and began his dinner again, at the very place where he left 
off. 

Pulled into the entry in this undignified manner, the pig ran 
against the landlady, who at that moment was carrying a dish of 
curds and whey to an old countrywoman and child, who were wait- 
ing for their refreshment in an inner room. He made a plunge 



l868.] THE PERSUADABLE PIG. 297 

right between her feet, and upset her, throwing the curds and whey 
up to the ceiling,, from which they descended in white showers. 
The pig was not so much abashed and confused at this unexpected 
recontre, but that he knew good victuals when he saw them, and he 
immediately began to suck up the savory mess with an infinite 
relish and a most pig-like noise. 

The poor landlady, who did not at first understand the cause of 
her disaster, but had some dim idea that she had been blown up or 
rather knocked over by a torpedo, raised herself slowly from the 
floor, and finding that she had broken no bones, began to look 
about She soon saw the vile pig, who, in exemplification of " it 
is an ill wind that blows nobody good," was devouring her curds 
and whey with incredible rapidity. She seized the first weapon 
that came to hand, a huge stone pitcher that stood on the entry- 
table, filled with water for thirsty travellers. After pouring all the 
water in it on her feet, in her haste to hit the pig, she was just 
about to strike him, when the creature quickly turned. 

The cause of this unexpected movement was Jack, who, having 
secured the rope more tightly about his arm, was about to leave 
the barroom with as much expedition as possible, for the furious 
landlord having wiped the coffee out of his eyes, flew at his 
unfortunate customer with the poker which stood in the chimney- 
corner. Jack ran for his life ; and in doing so pulled the pig away 
from the curds and whey, and turned him towards the landlady and 
her pitcher. Fear lent him strength and wings ; he made at once 
for the open door ; and pulling the pig's head into the pitcher, and 
the pitcher from the landlady's hand, darted up the road, dragging 
the animal after him. 

The landlady stood at the door, with her arms akimbo, trying to 
understand the situation and account for her pitcher. The land- 
lord ran a few steps, with his poker raised for a blow, when he 
thought better of it, and sitting down on a stone, laughed till the 
tears ran down his cheeks, to see Jack hurrying away at full speed 
in a cloud of dust with the pig, whose head was still in the pitcher, 
behind him. Jack was frightened, but the pig was still more so, 
and was willing to run as fast as his master wished. He could not 
understand the cause of the sudden darkness, and the hideous 
roaring in his ears, and had it not been for the rope around his 
legs, he would have thought it would soon be all over with him. 
While that remained, he knew that he was in the flesh. But this 
sudden change, from the delicious curds and whey, to this frightful 



298 THE PERSUADABLE PIG. [August, 

running away, from he knew not what, was like being thrust sud- 
denly out of Paradise into Purgatory. 

Jack ran till he was entirely out of breath, but on looking behind 
him, and finding that he was not pursued, slackened his pace and 
concluded to take matters a little more coolly. He was now on the 
high-road to the next town, and as it was market-day, he soon had 
plenty of companions, all driving their various animals to market. 
But as none of them had a pig with his head in a pitcher, he was 
the subject of all sort of jeers and jokes. On some accounts, the 
episode of the pitcher was a fortunate one, for it made the pig more 
docile and more willing to be guided, as he could not possibly tell 
where to go himself. 

At last, they met a drove of cattle which had been bought, and 
were being driven away from the market. Tired, warm, and thirsty, 
the over-driven beasts were furious, and it was all that the drivers 
could do, by shouts and blows, to keep them together. One sullen 
cow, with down-turned horns, glared at Jack in so savage a manner 
that he took to his heels and ran ; and the pig, lest he should lose 
his fore-leg, ran also. The cow pursued them, bending down her 
head in a threatening manner at Jack's back, as if she were medi- 
tating a thrust and a toss. He ran directly to an old woman's stall, 
hoping to distract the cow's attention, and so escape. Seated near 
two huge baskets of eggs, the countrywoman was knitting com- 
posedly, unconscious of the impending danger. As he neared her, 
his foot slipped, but his impetus was so great, that, unable to stop, 
he plunged head-foremost into one basket of eggs and pulled the 
pig into the other. 

The cow seeing her victims thus suddenly disappear, thought an 
old woman was better than nobody to toss, and stuck her horns into 
her red cloak. The woman did not lose her presence of mind. 
Nimbly she unbuttoned her cloak, and left the furious beast with the 
red rag over her horns, while she took refuge under her own table. 
In this plight, half blinded by the cloak, the cow was discovered 
by the drover, who, with several sharp blows with his walnut stick, 
turned her into the right road again. The old woman peered out 
from under her table, till, finding she was no longer in danger, she 
crept out just as Jack and the pig were rising out of the baskets. 
As the crowd saw them, covered with the yolks of the broken eggs, 
they shouted with laughter and assailed them with jokes. 

" Have you found a mare's nest, mister ? " shouted one. 

" How's egg-pop ? " cried another. 



1 868.] THE PERSUADABLE PIG. 299 

" Who'll have bacon and eggs ? " roared a third. " Now's your 
chance." 

" Were they all fresh ? " asked a fourth, as he saw Jack attempt- 
ing to clean his face. 

" Don't wipe it off," cried a fifth ; " white of eggs is good for sun- 
burn, and you and your pig will be fair enough tomorrow." 

The old woman who kept the stall began at first to scold, but 
ending by laughing, in spite of her loss, at the comical appearance 
of Jack and the pig. 

" Ah, the terrible pig ! " thought Jack. " I wish he had been in 
the bottom of the Red Sea before I had ever taken him out of the 
sty." When he could see again, he descried a big burly butcher 
among the crowd. 

" Hollo, mister ! " cried he ; " will you buy a pig today ? " 

" Let me look at him," was the reply. The crowd parted on 
each side, to make way for Jack and the pig. Everybody wanted 
to seer, but nobody cared to come very near him. Some one 
threw a stone at the pig, which struck the pitcher and cracked it. 
Piggy thought for an instant that heaven and earth were coming 
together ; but he found, on the whole, that the blow was an advan- 
tage, for a gleam of light came through the crevice. When Jack 
and the pig stood fairly out before the butcher, he laughed till he 
grew purple in the face, and choked ; but when he could speak, he 
said, " I do not buy pigs in a poke, master. I must see the crea- 
ture's nose first." 

" You may have him for nothing, if you will only take him," 
cried Jack. 

" I don't know about that," said the fat man, solemnly ; "people 
don't give away pigs unless something's the matter on 'em. He 
may have a horn on his nose, or be mad, for all that I know." 

" If he isn't mad, his master is," muttered Jack. 

" Break the pitcher," cried a voice in the crowd. 

" No," said another ; " that is to keep his head from being 
smashed when he tumbles into egg-baskets." 

" It would have been better for his master's hair, if he had had 
one on too," laughed a third. 

The idea of breaking the pitcher impressed the crowd favorably, 
and stones and brick-bats began to be thrown at the pig. Some 
of these hit the pitcher, some the pig's back, some Jack, and some 
the butcher. The butcher scolded and shook his fist, and Jack 
kept him company, while the pig squealed most horribly ; all which 
manifestations only increased the pleasure of the crowd. At last, 



300 THE PERSUADABLE PIG. [August, 

one well-aimed, ponderous stone struck the pitcher fairly, and 
broke it in pieces. The pig was knocked down by the blow. 
The crowd fairly yelled with delight. 

" Now's your chance, Mr. Butcher ! Will you buy the pig, or 
not ? Look sharp for the horn ? " 

For an instant, the pig was stunned ; but he soon rose to his feet. 
He saw the faces of the crowd, and glanced at the butcher, whom 
he recognized as the man in the white frock, who had carried away 
his mother, and who, pig-traditions said, ate pigs when he could 
get them. And to this, his perfidious master had brought him ! 
With one loud squeal of rage and fright, he made a frenzied dash 
through the crowd, dragging his master after him. 

In vain Jack strove to unwind the rope from his arm. It was 
piggy's turn now. He was off at full speed, dragging his master 
after him at the same unmerciful rate at which he himself had been 
dragged. 

" Go it, piggy ; the butcher is after you with his long knife ! 
Hold on, master ! you'll fetch up tomorrow. Hurrah for the two- 
forty. Take the inside track." 

These were the last words that Jack heard. The furious pig 
soon dragged him beyond the sound of their voices ; and the crowd, 
having exhausted all the fun that could be had from these two 
subjects, turned their attention elsewhere. 

Without heeding whither they went, the pig rushed blindly 
forward, till at last, he plunged headlong into a pond, dragging his 
master after him. The cold water sobered them both. They 
were obliged to swim vigorously to keep from drowning, and both 
being this time of the same mind, neither thwarted the other in his 
attempts to reach the shore. At last, they reached the land, and 
being almost worn out with their exertions, they sat down, and 
gazed ruefully at each other. 

After some moments, the pig squealed, "Master, I am going 
home ; the sty is better than this. You can come, if you like, and 
show me the way ; if you don't like, I shall drag you." 

Wearily Jack rose. He was discouraged with his day's adven- 
tures, and meekly he preceded the pig. His mother was looking 
across the fields, shading her eyes with her hands from the level 
sunset rays. As they came near the house, and she saw her son 
being led back by the pig, a grim smile drew aside her wrinkled lips. 

" Ah, Jack ! " said she, as he came within hearing, " take an old 
woman's advice next time ; and never attempt to persuade a pig, 
either for his own, or for anybody's good." E. c. j. 



i868.] 



WILL S WONDER-BOOK. 



301 



WILL'S WONDER-BOOK, 
v. 




HAT sort of a bean is this ? " 
asked Polly, showing her grand- 
mother a long, round, brown 
thing in the palm of her hand. 
"That is a chrysalis; not a 
bean, dear," replied the old 
lady. "A butterfly of some sort is folded 
up in that little dark shell ; and when the time comes, it will 
break out, and fly away." 

" Will it be a silk-making butterfly ? " asked Polly, examining it 
curiously. 

" No ; I think it is a common moth, and will never make any 
silk. The mulberry-tree moth is the fellow for silk." 

" Tell us about him," said Will. " I've got some cocoons ; but 
I don't see how they can ever be used." 

" The caterpillars weave their yellow shrouds in a very curious 
way ; not going round and round with the thread, but backward 
and forward, in one place after another ; so that the silk of the 
inner cocoon can be wound off by the yard, without turning the 
little ball over. The threads come through two holes in the head 
of the caterpillar, and are fastened together in one by a sort of glue 
which comes with them.. These threads are gold-colored, and very, 
very fine ; and when many of them are put together, it is the best 
sort for weaving. It takes the caterpillars three or four days to 
make the cocoons ; and before the chrysalides turn to moths, and 
eat their way out, the cocoons are put in an oven, or hot water, 
which kills the creatures. Then, the flossy covering is opened at 
one end, the fine, inner cocoon slipped out, and unwound by very 



302 WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. [August, 

skilful workers, who put them in hot water, and reel off the silk of 
twenty or thirty cocoons at a time. A good-sized cocoon gives 
about three hundred yards of filament, as they call it ; some, even 
six hundred. These fine threads are made strong enough to use, 
and woven into many useful and pretty things." 

" What kind of looking moth is the silk moth ? " asked Will. 

" It is about an inch long, pale yellow, with dark streaks, wide 
wings, and short trunk. The eggs are about the size of mustard- 
seed ; and the young worms are born in a few days, if kept in a 
warm place. They do nothing but eat, and shed their skins, which 
they do four times before the caterpillar is fully grown. In about 
thirty-two days, it begins to spin, then turns to a chrysalis, and in 
a few weeks comes out a moth, if not killed. They have to be 
taken great care of, for they are very tender ; and cold easily 
kills them, or bad air, or not enough food. They have many dis- 
eases also ; and silk-feeders have anxious times till the cocoons 
are safely spun. I was reading a pleasant account of the Italian 
silk-farms, the other day ; and I will tell you about it. There are 
many mulberry-trees in Lombardy ; and the people import silk- 
worms from Japan, in the egg, and hatch them at home. The eggs 
are gummed on sheets of paper, and sold by the quire, and called 
" egg-letters." The person who writes the account, says he saw a 
a farmhouse where the people were all busy with " egg-letters." 
Some worms were already grown; and the girls were bringing 
baskets of clean, fresh leaves for the yellow caterpillars, who 
crawled in and out, eating with a rustle which could be heard, all 
hard at work, getting the little silk factories inside of them into 
good order. In one place were some newly-hatched grubs, about 
as big as needles, curled up, and sharp at both ends. The farmer's 
wife said they needed as much care as babies, and had to be coaxed 
to eat, for many died, because they were too young to find their 
way to their food. She showed also some silk freshly unwound. 
A long lock of soft, golden hair it seemed, tied with a blue ribbon, 
and very pretty. This person next went to see the mulberry-trees, 
with flocks of children at work on them, laughing and shouting, 
and stripping the leaves like a whirlwind."" 

"That must be fun. I wish we had silk-farms and factories 
here," said Will. 

" We do. The silk crop of the United States is very large ; for 
our worms can often be fed in the open air, and so are healthier 
than the European worms. The Middle And Southern States are 



i868.] WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 303 

the best places. Dr. Franklin was interested in a silk-factory in 
Pennsylvania \ and a Mrs. Wright, of Columbia, made a piece of 
silk, sixty yards long, from cocoons of her own raising, which was 
used for a dress for the Queen of England. The first silk coat 
and stockings made in New England, were worn in 1747, by the 
governor, Mr. Law; and in 1660, Charles I. wore a coronation 
robe made by Virginia silk-worms." 

"Who first used these little fellows ? " asked Will. 

" The Chinese, I believe. The Greeks and Romans used silk 
for a long time, before they knew much about its manufacture j for 
the Romans conquered many nations, and carried home many 
treasures. When the Chinese peasants all wore silk, it was still 
so rare and costly at Rome, that one of the emperors would not 
allow the empress a robe of it. The Hindoos had a wild sort of 
silk-worm which could not be tamed j so they set guards to keep 
bats away by night, and birds by day, while the worms spun 
on the trees they had chosen. This kind made a coarse, dark 
silk, which could be worn many years, without any sign of wear- 
ing out. Many of our common caterpillars spin silky threads, 
as you know, for you often see their nests in the orchard. The 
caterpillar of the gold-tail moth wraps its eggs in hair from its own 
body. When the little ones come out, they cover the leaves, and 
feed, side by side, till they are ready to spin a wide-spreading, silken 
tent, with rooms enough to shelter them all from enemies and bad 
weather. So dainty are they, that they have carpets of silk under 
their feet ; and in this nice little home they live merrily together 
till spring, when they go away and live alone till chrysalis-time 
comes. Caterpillars, in some places, migrate like swallows ; and 
I remember seeing in a paper, some years ago, an account of an 
army of caterpillars marching through a swamp, over the bridge, 
in such quantities, that people were afraid to pass till they were 
gone." 

" I like butterflies better than ' pussy-pillars,' as I used to call 
them j so I shall keep my chrysalis, and see if it won't turn out. a 
pretty blue or yellow butterfly," said Polly, holding it carefully in 
her warm little hand. 

" In a pretty French story, I read about a lady who used to 
hatch the silk-worms, by wearing them folded in flannel, in her 
bosom ; for she was poor, and could not afford to lose any of the 
precious little creatures." 

" I don't like them well enough for that ; but I do wish I had a 



304 PALISSY, THE POTTER. [AllgUSt, 

easeful of lovely butterflies, like that lady whom we saw the other 
day," said Polly. 

" I'd get you pecks, if grandma didn't think it was wrong to put 
pins through 'em, and drop camphor on their heads to kill 'em," 
said Will. 

" I will give you a book full of beautifully-painted butterflies, 
with stories of them, and pretty bits of poetry. Won't that satisfy 
you ? " asked the old lady, who hated cruelty to the humblest thing 
that lives. 

" Oh, yes ! that is splendid ; and I'm ever so much obliged ! " 
cried Polly, who knew the book, and had often longed to own it. 

She ran to get it ; and for an hour, two curly heads bent over 
the pages, enjoying the wonders of butterfly life, and talking learn- 
edly of the " Purple Emperor," " Peacock," " Bufftip," " Painted 
Lady," "Blue Adonis," and the "Lace Wing," and "Death's Head 
Moths." When they came to the end, Will said, decidedly, 

"The next book I buy will be ' The Butterfly Hunters.' " 




PALISSY, THE POTTER. 

ORE than three hundred years ago, there lived 
in France, a man named Bernard Palissy. His 
grandfather, father, and uncles were, by trade, 
painters on glass; so was he. At that time, 
the windows in churches, castles, public build- 
ings, and the houses of rich people, were made 
of painted glass. Bernard had taste and skill 
in drawing, and made the patterns that were to 
be copied on the glass. He liked, from the time he was a young 
boy, to wander about in the woods ; and he carefully watched and 
studied plants, flowers, birds, insects, and rocks, till he could 
draw and color them with great exactness. He could also draw 
portraits tolerably, and learnt surveying. When he was eighteen, 
he left his home, and wandered about France nearly twelve years, 
closely observing people, buildings, animals, trees, earth, and 
stones, wherever he went ; and for his support, painted windows 
and portraits, and surveyed land when he could. Then he mar- 
ried, and had his home in the town of Saintes, near to famous 



l868.] PALISSY, THE POTTER. 305 

salt-marshes. Here he worked at glass and portrait painting, 
with an occasional job at surveying, when a quarrel about certain 
pieces of the marshes would occur among his neighbors. 

One day, he saw a beautiful cup, made in Italy. It was a rare 
specimen, of exquisite form, and the outside covered with pure- 
white, shining enamel. He had never seen anything like it before. 
Now, we have beautiful china, porcelain, and other earthen ware, 
of such variety, and so common, we can hardly think there could 
have been a time when a simple china cup was unknown, even in a 
king's palace. When Palissy saw this beautiful cup, he desired to 
make some like it, but he had no idea how it could be done. He 
knew nothing about making even the coarse clayware then in use. 
He never had seen such materials as those of which the cup was 
made ; but that pure-white enamel, he was determined to discover 
how to make. He thought of the vases, cups, and urns, he might 
make ; and how comfortably his family could live, his children be 
educated ; and he would have time to devote to wanderings among 
the woods and forests, as he did years ago. He knew about mix- 
ing colors for his paints, and that was all. So, he went to work, 
bought different drugs, chemicals, sands, and earth ; and mixed, 
melted, and covered pieces of coarse earthenware with them, and 
put them into potters' ovens and glass-blowers' furnaces, in hopes 
some piece would be covered with that white enamel, the hope 
and desire of his life, which, he says, " he began to seek for, as a 
man gropes in the dark." 

So, he toiled on for years. He spent all the time he could spare. 
Sometimes, he would work for weeks with his clay ; and mixing 
different things together, taking accurate account of each, to be 
disappointed again and again. Then, when he was out of money 
and materials, he would return to glass-painting for a time ; but 
he was very poor most always ; and his wife made bitter com- 
plaints of his waste of money in such a foolish manner. Once, he 
had three hundred different mixings on pans, and sent them to be 
burned in an oven, and all were spoiled. Then, he built a furnace 
himself, and put the pieces of earthenware in, covered with some- 
thing which might melt into white enamel ; and when he had no 
money to buy wood to keep up the fire, he burned all the fence 
about his house ; then broke up the chairs and tables, and began 
to take up the floor. He was called madman, fool ! His wife 
despised him, his children were almost without food and clothes ; 
and so, for a while, he abandoned his search for the white enamel. 



306 PALISSY, THE POTTER. [August, 

Then, he had quite a prosperous business, and lived in comfort 
again. He was appointed to survey, or, as he says, " map out all 
the islands and country round our salt-marshes." These were 
not like what we call salt-marsh, but places where the sea-water 
was let in, to evaporate into salt. He was busy with this work 
more than a year. Then he had a little money, and began upon 
the enamels again. 

It is painful to read his accounts of what he suffered. How he 
watched his furnaces, through cold and heat, drenched with rain, 
half-starved. " I suffered an anguish that I cannot speak of. I 
was exhausted, and dried up, with the heat of my furnace. I was 
an object of mockery, and regarded as a madman." Sometimes, a 
little success would give him fresh courage ; and, after years of 
labor and trials and disappointments, he made vases, cups, and 
earthen figures of birds, lizards, and butterflies, which he sold, and 
kept his family in comparative comfort. For sixteen years, he 
persevered ; and success crowned all his efforts. He made most 
exquisite vases, plates, jars, and cups; adorned them with flowers, 
mosses, vines, and leaves, and among them, birds, crabs, and 
various little figures, all exactly copied, in color and shape, from 
nature. All these things became in great request ; and Palissy 
was called upon to adorn the magnificent halls and palaces of the 
great nobles ; and kings and queens delighted to employ his genius 
in decorating their gardens and dwellings. There was no want 
now in the household of Palissy. His sons were trained in the 
workrooms of the father, and assisted him in the great designs 
which he was called upon to execute. 

Palissy removed to Paris, and was employed by the queen- 
mother, Catharine de Medici, who was then having built the Pal- 
ace of the Tuileries. Bernard, after that, was called " Bernard of 
the Tuileries ; " and besides the great ornaments he made for the 
gardens, such as fountains, rock-work, and life-size figures of men 
and women, which now are nearly all destroyed, there were 
statuettes, cups, vases, groups, basins, beautifully formed and 
painted, which still remain, and are sold now, when offered, at 
very high prices. There were some vases, a little while ago, in a 
window in Tremont Street, which are not unlike, if not imitations 
of, Palissy's wonderfully beautiful creations. Palissy was not only 
a potter j he was a man of science, and philosopher ; and though a 
poor boy, with a very limited education, he wrote books, and made 
discoveries, which were far in advance of the learning and science 



1 868.] PALISSY, THE POTTER. 307 

of his time. All learned men then, wrote in Latin ; and he re- 
gretted he could not use that language in his books, as he feared 
they would not have many readers. 

Palissy was a Huguenot; but was protected by some of the great 
nobles, because no one else could make the beautiful ornaments 
which they wanted. His house and workshop was once burned, 
and he taken to prison \ but his powerful friends delivered him. 
His friends were cast into dungeons, burned at the stake, because 
they did not believe some doctrines of the established Catholic 
religion. Palissy had no desire to conceal his sentiments, all 
knew he belonged to the proscribed sect, and was ready to suffer, 
if need be, in defence of them. He wrote, studied, and worked, 
till old age. One prevailing idea of Palissy was, that every talent 
any one possessed must be used constantly. If God gave him 
wisdom, strength, genius, he had no right to let it be idle. He 
was always urging upon the young people who came to him for 
advice and instruction, to study seriously all the wonderful works 
of God, which He had placed about them \ and if any man made 
a discovery, he had no right to keep it to himself. " For it is 
written, that better is the fool who hides his folly, than the wise 
man who conceals his wisdom." 

Kings and queens reigned and died. The old potter lived on, 
an old man, seventy-six years, teaching philosophy, and superin- 
tending his workshop. He still held firmly to his faith ; but while 
he said little, his enemies knew well how staunch a Huguenot he 
was ; and there came a day when they triumphed, and he was 
sent to the Bastile, where he lived four years. He was sentenced 
to be burned ; but, though many of his friends thus suffered, he 
was left there all the four years j and there he died, in the year 

1589- 

After Bernard Palissy died, his sons kept up the manufactory ; 
but they had not his taste and genius, and they could design noth- 
ing equal to him. What afterwards became of his descendants is not 
known. His secret died with him, for no one of his family pos- 
sessed his skill and genius. No one knew how to combine, arrange, 
and distribute all the various substances, which gave the beauty, 
color, and lustre to his beautiful imitations of nature. This is the 
Potter's mark, ^, ^^ which was always engraven on 

the works he f\b fit made. 

COUSIN MARY. 




308 LITTLE PEARL, [August, 





LITTLE PEARL. 

CHAPTER V. LULE AND THE LOOKING-GLASS. 

JNE morning, a week after the children's great fright 
about their father, Lule came to see Agnes and Gassy, 
and wanted them to go over to her house, to stay ; 
for " Marm," she said, " had gone into town with Ben, 
and taken Harry and the baby. The little cousins had gone too ; 
and she was left alone to get dinner for her father." 

" I can't go, and leave Pearl," said Agnes. " She isn't well." 

Pearl had not been well since the night on which she rode home 
from Mr. Humphrey's, when she took a severe cold, and now had 
a bad cough, and seemed weak and spiritless. 

" Let her go too," replied Lule. " We can carry her make a 
chair of our hands." 

" Do you want to go, darling ? " asked Agnes. 

" Yes ; I'll go," said Pearl. " Will you take Bliss ? " 

Agnes told Gassy to run and find him. " And let's get off," she 
said, "before Miss Muggins comes in from the barn." 

"Isn't Miss Muggins in the kitchen?" said Lule. "Then, 
Agnes, you just run in and get the looking-glass, and bring it with 
us ; won't you ? I want it awful. I won't hurt it any." 

Agnes got the glass, Gassy found Bliss, and all started off; Jero 
following them. Mrs. Fenwick's kitchen always wore a neat and 
pleasant look ; but this morning it seemed more cheery than ever. 
The tins glistened on the shelves ; the glow from the great open 
fire mingled with the sunshine, that came in through the open 
windows and played on the cleanly-washed floor; and the tea- 
kettle on the crane hummed pleasantly. 

" Now," said Lule, placing a seat in the sunshine for Pearl, and 
giving Harry's playthings to Bliss, "I am going to make some 
'lasses candy ; and you'll stir it, and see to it ; won't you ? " 



i868.] 



LITTLE PEARL. 



309 




" Oh, yes," said Gassy, archly ; " and you may look in the glass 
all the time, if you want to." 

" Oh, I've got a lot of other things to do," said Lule ; " I'm 
going to make a mulberry pudding for dinner." 

" Don't you wish you could make a looking-glass ? " asked 
Gassy. 

" Ha ! ha ! A looking-glass for dinner ! " laughed Agnes. 

" Well, how do they make them, 'Nes ? " asked Lule, with great 
earnestness. " Do they make them out of glass, like window- 
glass ? " 

" Yes j I suppose so," answered Agnes. " It's quicksilver that 
makes the glass look that way." 

" Quicksilver ! " repeated Lule. " What's that ? Why do they 
call it quicksilver ? " 

" Because," said Gassy, " they melt the silver, and put it on the 
glass, and it runs quick." 



310 LITTLE PEARL. [August, 

" Oh, good land ! " cried Lule ; " I believe I can make one. I've 
got a picayune." 

She put the molasses on to boil, then found a piece of glass, and 
taking the silver and the shovel, sat down by the fire. 

" It won't make a very large one," said Cassy, laughing. 

" I know that," answered Lule ; " but any kind of one is better 
than none ; " and she heated the shovel to a white heat, put the 
silver piece on it, and well, that was the end of the picayune. 

" I should think it did run quick" said Lule. " Where did it 
go to ? " 

" I kept watching," replied Cassy, laughing, till the tears run, 
to see how funny Lule looked ; " I kept watching, but I couldn't 
see." 

" Now, I've lost my picayune, and burnt my face all up for 
nothing," said Lule, looking vexed ; " and it's all your fault, Cassy 
Marsh." 

" Oh, don't get mad," said Cassy. " I didn't think 'twould do 
so ; truly, I didn't." 

Just then, the molasses boiled over and Lule's thoughts turned 
in another direction. The molasses already had boiled quite thick, 
and now began the tasting. By the time the candy was done, and 
had been worked and eaten, it was far too late for the mulberry 
pudding, and, indeed, quite near to the dinner-hour ; and Lule had 
not had one good look at herself. So, she flew around, put the 
potatoes on to cook, and set the table ; then she hung up the glass 
in a convenient place, and planted herself before it. 

" Lule, do you think you are handsome ? " asked Cassy. 

" I don't know," said Lule. I like to know how I do look. I 
know how everybody else looks ; and when I see myself only once 
in awhile, I forget." 

" Oh, dear ! I should think you'd know by this time," said Cassy. 

Lule kept on looking, and looked so long, that, before she knew 
it, the noon shadows came on the floor, and her father was at the 
door. 

" Oh ! " she cried ; " if he should see me, he'd think the old 
dragon himself had got here ; " and taking the looking-glass, she ran 
with it into her mother's bedroom, which opened out of the kitchen. 
Mr. Fenwick came in in good humor, and was very glad to see the 
children ; so the dinner passed off quite pleasantly. As soon as it 
was over, and her father arose from the table, Lule grew very un- 
easy. She watched every movement of her father's, fearing all the 



1868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 311 

time that he would go into the bedroom; and at last, he did 
go in. 

" Oh, I'll catch it now ! " said poor Lule. " Father never goes 
in there unless he wants to lie down ; and I hid the glass right at 
the head of the bed. Oh, what shall I do ? what shall I do ? " and, 
pale and trembling, she stood listening at the bedroom door. 

" Highty-tighty ! What's this ? " they heard at length. " Lule, 
come here." Lule obeyed. " Come here," repeated her father ; 
" coma up here to me. Now, my darter," said he, " I know what 
this means. I caught you looking at yourself in a pail of water 
the other day. Now, come here, and look at yerself till yer'e con- 
tented ; " and he hung the glass at such a height that Lule could 
just see herself, by standing on tiptoe. " Now, stand there, and 
look till I tell yer to stop ; and if yer take yer eyes off once, I'll 
give yer a floggin' ; " and he sat beside her to watch. 

Just then, Mrs. Fenwick and Ben came in ; and Mr. Fenwick 
told Lule to take the looking-glass, and go home with the children. 



MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 

IV. RESTORATION OF THE SAXON LINE, AND INVASION OF THE 

ROMANS. 



Hardicanute dropped dead, with the 
wine-cup in his hand, the English, who 
had had enough of foreign rule, and still 
cherished proud memories of Alfred and 
Athelstan, declared that none but a Saxon 
should be their king, and selected Edward, 
one of Emma's children, who had been 
banished to Normandy by Canute, when 
he married their mother. Now, the most 
they knew of Edward, was his genealogy ; 
and, as the sequel shows, their choice was made with more haste 
than wisdom. 

" This Edward," says the chronicle, " was the son of King Ethel- 
red ; who was the son of Edgar ; who was the son of Edmund ; who 
was the son of Edward ; who was the son of the great King Alfred, 
whose genealogy has been traced up to Adam." But he was more 




312 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [August, 

Norman than Saxon ; and he loved France and her people, lan- 
guage and customs, a great deal better than he did those of Eng- 
land, of which he knew almost nothing. Besides that, he had been 
educated for a monk, and was more skilled in the use of the pen 
than in that of the sword ; and his piety gave him a much stronger 
title to the crozier and mitre, than his bravery ever did to the 
sceptre and crown ; and the former were much more to his liking. 
But when Godwin, greatest among the Saxon earls, went to him, 
and told him it was his duty to quit the cloister for the court, Ed- 
ward weakly yielded ; and, caring as little for a wife as he did for a 
kingdom, took Editha and England together, as a sort of penance 
for his sins. Now, Editha was Earl Godwin's daughter, so beau- 
tiful and trustworthy, and honorable, and withal so meek and 
modest, that everybody loved her everybody but her morose and 
superstitious husband, who thought it a sin to love her. Even 
Ingulphus, the Abbot of Croyland, gets eloquent when he talks 
about Editha. He says, " As the thorn is parent of the rose, so is 
Godwin of Editha ; " and then he goes on to tell, as if he loved to 
sing her praises, how, when he was a little boy, he used to go to 
see his father, an officer in the king's palace, and Editha would 
meet him, and tax him with hard questions in his grammar and 
logic, in which she was very learned ; and after making him say 
his verses to her, would reward him with silver pieces, and send 
him off with one of her maids to the buttery for refreshments. 

Dear, gentle Editha ! She deserved a happier fate than to be 
the unloved wife of an austere monk. She had a sad time of it, 
altogether. While she sat sorrowing and alone, there was Edward, 
in his English palace, pining for his cell in Normandy, and sur- 
rounded by his French favorites, who, in glib Norman dialect, 
openly ridiculed the " Saxon barbarians," as they called Editha's 
kinsfolk ; and at the head of the people were the outraged father 
and brother of the neglected queen, stout Earl Gadwin, and his noble 
son, Harold, who, jealous of foreign influence, looked upon the 
king with lowering brows, and cursed his friends in the broadest 
Saxon. So, without any intention of tyranny on the one side, or 
rebellion on the other, a quarrel arose between the king and his 
people, that ended in the banishment of Godwin and his family ; 
and even sweet Editha was sent to a monastery, in punishment for 
their disobedience. 

It was at this juncture that young William of Normandy arrived 
in England, on a visit to Edward, who was his second cousin ; and 



1868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 313 

as his visit was fraught with important consequences, I must give 
you a brief account of the origin of this young duke, who became 
later the Conqueror of England. 

In one of the first expeditions of the Danes against England, 
came Raoul, or Rollo, one of those younger sons of whom I have 
told you ; and wintering there, he dreamed of a swarm of bees that 
buzzed awhile over his army, and then flew south over the seas. 
Following his own interpretation of the dream, in the spring, he 
sailed across the channel to the shores of France ; and fighting and 
burning his way, inch by inch, he at last planted his standard on 
the site of the grand old town of Rouen ; and, taking possession of 
the country round about, he at last became so powerful, that the 
King of France was forced to recognize him as the first duke of 
the province which was called Normandy, or the country of the 
Nothmen. Being baptized a Christian, he took the name of Rob- 
ert, and from him a long line of powerful nobles succeeded to the 
dukedom. 

One of these, Robert the Magnificent, or, as he is more commonly 
known, Robert the Devil, about to go on a pilgrimage, gave his 
little son, a handsome boy of seven, to his barons, as their ruler, in 
case he himself should not return, saying, " He is little, but he will 
grow." And he did grow to be that William, who, in 1051, went 
to visit his cousin of Englancff He took in the situation at a 
glance ; saw the disaffection of the people, and the timidity of the 
king ; and being a daring, high-spirited, and strong-willed young 
fellow of about twenty-one, he probably reasoned somewhat in this 
way : " My sober cousin, the confessor, is getting on in years. He 
has no son to succeed him. It were a pity so fair a territory should 
fall into the hands of a Saxon churl. Why should not I, a noble 
gentleman of France, come over with a few hundred archers, and 
subdue this undisciplined people, and portion out their rich lands 
to my knights ? I will do it ; and William I. of Normandy shall 
become William I. of England." There was only one obstacle to 
his success, and that was, that the people idolized Harold, and 
had already begun to regard him as Edward's successor. William 
saw this too ; and, while he so won the favor of the king, that it is 
said, the latter promised him the throne, he also ingratiated him- 
self afterwards with Harold, whose family the people compelled 
Edward to recall from banishment ; so that he also promised to 
support William's claim. So, with high hopes, the young duke 
returned to his own country. 



314 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [August, 

Meantime, Godwin and Harold regained all their old supremacy 
over Edward ; and, upon his death, in 1066, the people, wild with 
joy, crowned Harold king on the very day of the confessor's funeral. 
William was not a patient man, as the story of his courtship shows j 
and you may imagine his anger, when, as he was hunting in his 
park at Rouen, the news was brought him of Harold's usurpation. 
But he wasted no time in words. He sent straight to the pope for 
his blessing ; and receiving from him a consecrated banner, he 
compelled the attendance of his reluctant barons, leaving to his 
excellent queen, Matilda, the regency of his dukedom. He em- 
barked on a splendid galley, the parting gift of his wife, on the 
prow of which was a figure in bronze of their darling boy, in the 
act of aiming an arrow at England, and landed on the English 
coast in September, 1066. At the same time, Tostig, a brother of 
Harold, with whom he was not on good terms, and the King of 
Norway, having taken up William's cause, had landed on another 
part of the coast, where Harold generously sent a message to his 
brother, promising him an earldom, if he would abandon the 
contest. 

" And what will he give to my friend, the King of Norway ? " 
asked Tostig. 

" Seven feet of earth for a grave," replied the messenger. 

" No more ? " asked Tostig, scoftifully. 

" A little more, perhaps, if he is a very tall man," said the envoy. 

" Go back, then ! " cried Tostig, in anger ; " and tell my brother, 
to make ready for the fight." 

Make ready he did ; and with such success, that ere sunset, 
upon that bloody field lay dead, Tostig, the Norse king, and every 
chieftain of renown whom they had led to battle. But for Harold, 
who, flushed with victory, sat that night, drinking wassail with 
his followers, sad reverses were preparing. Worn with hard rid- 
ing, and bedraggled with mire, horsemen, flying from the outposts, 
interrupted the festivities, to announce that the Normans had 
landed. Speed was needed, and haste was made; and, on the 
i4th of October, 1066, was fought the famous battle of Hastings, 
whose close saw a French king seated on the English throne. 
Fiercely waged the fight through all that autumn day ; and bravely 
did Harold and his young brothers upbear their standard 
a Saxon warrior, embroidered with gold and precious stones. But 
Saxon valor proved no match for Norman strategy; and when 
Harold fell, his brain pierced with an arrow, the English felt that 
the day was lost. 



l868.] WAITING TO SEE. 315 

The moon, "as she rose in the heavens that night, looked down 
at the dreadful sight below, and paled, and hid her face. On the 
spot where Harold fell was pitched the Conqueror's tent, from 
which came songs of triumph and revelry ; while, from the gory 
field outside, went up the groans of thousands of Saxons in the last 
agonies of death ; and sadly, up and down, by the spectral light of 
torches, the mother of Harold with two monks, sought vainly 
amid heaps of their slain friends for the body of the king. 

" And the warrior worked in golden thread and precious stones, 
lay low, all torn, and soiled with blood ; and the three Norman 
lions kept watch over the field." COUSIN ALICE. 



WAITING TO SEE. 

I WENT walking one morning, 
Before the sun could see ; 

When all the birds were singing, 
As glad as birds could be, 

And all the brooks were laughing, 
Because they were so free. 

Only the morning-glories 

Were through their latest naps ; 

All the grasses were holding 
The dewdrops on their laps ; 

And half the dandelions 

Were drest in round, lace caps. 

Clouds were down in the river, 
Just like those in the sky ; 

God must have dropped them, surely, 
From where He sat, so high. 

" Wouldn't He come and get them," 
I wondered, " by and by ? " 

I thought, " If I might see Him, 
Oh, how long I would stay ! " 

For I never could go to Heaven, 
Till I had found the way. 

And it is a weary journey 
Up there, the people say. 



316 GOLDEN-EYED PANSY. 

I waited, down in the rushes, 

So I should see Him plain ; 
And the sun shone, hours and hours, 

Over the grass and grain ; 
But nobody came from Heaven 

To take the clouds again. 

My sister came to find me, 
And smiled at what I told ; 

But, ah ! I cried so sadly, 
I could not be consoled, 

To think I never should see Him, 
Till I was gray and old. 



[August, 



H. B. HUDSON. 




GOLDEN-EYED PANSY. 

LITTLE thatched cottage stood at the entrance of a 
dark wood, and in it lived a poor widow with her little 
daughter, Pansy. Pansy was a dark little elf, with 
such heavy black locks falling over her brown cheeks, 
that she would have been thought very ugly, but for her wonder- 
ful, gleaming eyes, that glistened like the purest gold. She was a 
clever child, with a loving heart, and helped her mother as much as 
she could. But one day, the poor widow felt so ill that she could 
not rise from her bed, and she called her little girl to her side. 

" Dear Pansy," said she, in a faint voice ; " you must go to the 
nearest town for me, and fetch the doctor. Take some bread 
and a sup of milk with you, for you will not get home before 
nightfall." 

Pansy's golden eyes filled with tears, for she loved her mother 
dearly ; besides, she trembled at the thought that her way lay 
through the frightful wood. She had never before ventured to do 
more than peep through the opening, it looked so dark and fearful ; 
but now she put on her little shawl, and taking a dry crust, and a 
can of milk, passed, with a beating heart, out of the bright sun- 
shine, into the darkness and silence. The path was full of stones 
and underbrush ; and though Pansy tried at first to run, she soon 
found it as much as she could do, to pick her way along, and her 



1 868.] GOLDEN-EYED PANSY. 317 

little feet grew bruised and weary. But, strange to say, the way 
was no longer dark ; for the light streamed so from her golden 
eyes, that all the animals came to look at the wonderful sight. 

"What does this mean ?" cried the blue-jay, to his neighbor, the 
crow. 

" It seems as if they were two baby suns, like the big one out in 
the world, but travelling along much quicker than their old father," 
answered the crow, with his head on one side ; and he flew along, 
above Pansy's head, crying, " Caw, caw ! " 

But the child did not understand bird-language, and she only 
felt frightened at the great, black creature, and hurried on with a 
wildly-beating heart. 

Then, a lion came to peep at her through the trees ; and he was 
so astonished, that he gave a great roar, which frightened little 
Pansy so, that she ran on with all her might, and cut great pieces 
out of her shoes, on the sharp stones. The poor child was all 
ready to cry, the wood seemed so long and dreary, and full of such 
terrible creatures ; but she had a brave heart, and drying her eyes 
on the corner of her shawl, went on as fast as her bleeding feet 
would let her. 

By-and-by, she saw a poor little bird, lying on the side of the 
path. It was too young to fly, and stretched out its beak for food ; 
but the mother seemed to have left it there to die of hunger. 
Pansy put a few crumbs of bread into its bill, and rejoiced that it 
ate them. She would have liked to stay by it and feecr it, until it 
was strong ; but she could not stop a moment. So she strewed 
some more crumbs by its side, and bending over it, kissed it 
gently, and sped away. She had given more than half her crust 
to the bird ; but, " Never mind," said she to herself; " I have still 
a big piece left, and the can of milk." Alas ! the crow, who had 
been watching the bread for some time, with greedy eyes, now 
swooped down upon her, and snatching it from her hand, carried 
it off to a tall tree, where he devoured it in triumph. Poor little 
Pansy! "Never mind," said she, bravely; "the milk will be 
enough for my dinner ; " and she trudged patiently on. She had 
not gone many steps farther, before she saw a huge serpent, glid- 
ing along the ground at her feet. He raised his head, and gazed 
at her, beseechingly. 

" What is the matter ? " said little Pansy. " Surely, you don't 
want to eat me ! I can't stop to talk to you, because my poor 
mother is sick." 



318 GOLDEN-EYED PANSY. [August, 

The serpent raised himself, and laid his head on the arm that 
carried the can of milk. Pansy felt her heart sink within her. It 
could not be that he wanted her milk. She was so hungry. But 
she could not resist the serpent's pleading looks ; so she opened 
the can, and he instantly began to drink up the contents. 

" I cannot wait for you to drink all," said Pansy, in distress. 
"Please, good Mr. Serpent, don't take any more." 

But, as he did not move, she laid the can on the ground, and 
hurried on. "Never mind," said she to herself; "I must be 
almost out of the wood ; and the poor serpent was very hungry." 

Pansy had now been walking for several hours, and she felt 
weary and faint ; but she tried not to think of herself ; and folding 
her little hands on her breast, prayed that her dear mother might 
soon be made well. A rustling among the trees made her look 
around, and she spied a little lame hare, trying to escape from a 
fox that was chasing it. 

" You naughty fellow ! " cried Pansy. " Come to me, pretty 
hare, and I will carry you." She held out her arms, and the hare 
jumped lightly into them, and she went on her way. The hare lay 
very still, glancing at her with loving eyes ; but he was a heavy 
load for the little arms that were so weary already. 

By-and-by, Pansy spied an opening in the trees, and then she 
knew that she had almost reached the end of the wood. Her little 
bruised feet ached with fatigue, and the eyelids drooped over her 
beautiful golden eyes j but she pressed bravely on, and at last, 
stepped out into the sunlight, a pale, weary, little figure, with the 
hare in her arms. But, wonderful to tell, the hare, escaping from 
her hold, changed into a beautiful spirit. 

" Darling little maiden," said she ; " but for your aid in bringing 
me back to the sunlight, I might have been doomed to remain 
forever in enchantment. Tell me how I can reward you. What 
do you most wish for ? " 

" Make my poor sick mother well again," implored the child, 
while tears stood in her lovely eyes. 

" Alas ! " answered the spirit, sadly ; " dear child, your mother 
is already dead." 

" Then, let me go to her," said Pansy, wearily. 

" What ! Leave the beautiful world, and the sunshine, and 
sweet flowers ? " 

" Tell me," questioned the child, earnestly ; " now, that my 
mother is dead, will not the great world be like the dark wood, 



l868.] THE STORY OF A ROYAL BENGAL TIGER. 319 

hard to walk in ? Where they will take away my crust of bread, 
and leave me to die of hunger and weariness ? " 

The spirit held out her beautiful arms, and gazing with compas- 
sion at the lonely, tired child, said, " Little Pansy, you have earned 
your reward." 

So the little maiden sank to rest on the kind spirit's bosom ; 
and the next morning, a lovely flower with golden eyes waved 
gently to and fro in the breeze, at the entrance of the wood. 

H. H. w. 




THE STORY OF A ROYAL BENGAL TIGER, AND 
HOW HE PROVED HIS CLAIM TO THE TITLE. 

i. 

HAVE always* had a fondness for animals ; and, in 
fact, I am, in a small way, the proprietor of a sort of 
menagerie, where young animals of the genus homo 
are brought to be fitted for domestic purposes. I 
always have a " Happy Family " among them too. A little tame 
pigeon, who coos and plumes herself, and flutters a little, now 
and then, without attempting any higher flight ; and in friendly 
proximity to her, a little puss, with soft hair, whom, by continual 
stroking the right way, I have taught never to show her claws, not 
even to the wee mousie who sits beside her, and who is always 
nibbling pussie's spelling-book, and chewing her lead-pencils, 
and doing a thousand things naturally aggravating to the best- 
natured cat in the world. Then, there is my little Skye terrier, 
"Rough and Ready," I call him, with his bright eyes and his 
sagacious head ; and his slower brother, the St. Bernard, always 
watchful, steady, reliable. Associating with these, in the happiest 
way, is my little patient mole, in her brown dress, who grubs away 
at her lessons all through the long recess, while the others are 
frisking in the sunshine ; and my sly little monkey, who always 
stays out till the last minute of grace after bell-ringing ; and then, 
leaping with long strides into his seat, and, stealing a sly peep into 
his geography, which he holds open between his thumb and finger, 
looks up into my face with such an air of being always in season, 
and such an audacious pretence that he and I have been waiting 
for somebody else, that I have to laugh at his tricks, in spite of 



320 THE STORY OF A ROYAL BENGAL TIGER. [August, 

myself. These are true portraits of some of the little animals in 
my menagerie, of whom I am very fond. 

Once a year, when the hot, sultry July days come, I open the 
cage doors, and let them all run wild in the woods and fields, for a 
month or two, while I myself stray up among the mountains, out 
of sight and sound of them all. It was on one of these occasions, 
not many summers ago, that I encountered a Royal Bengal Tiger. 

I started from Boston early in the morning. I was tired when I 
started ; and a long day's ride, in the heat and dust and roar and 
cinders, did not lessen my fatigue ; but when, late in the afternoon, 
we began to .wind in and out among the valleys, following the 
curves of the beautiful Androscoggin River, and at every new turn 
of the road caught magnificent glimpses of the great White-Moun- 
tain peaks ; and when, on reaching my destination an hour later, I 
turned my eyes for one more glance, and for a moment saw their 
glorious summits bathed in the crimson glow of the coming even- 
ing, I forgot every other feeling in my admiration of the scene. 

After a hearty supper of berries and milk, I went to bed early, 
in order that I might be fresh for any adventure in the morning ; 
first pulling back my curtain, as is my habit, to satisfy myself about 
the points of compass, by a look at the Great Bear, that prowls 
continually about the North Pole. I found neither Pole nor Bear 
that night ; but the first thing in the morning, I discovered both 
directly under my window. There were veritable Pole, and Ursa 
Major, a great, rusty, black bear, stalking sullenly in the circum- 
scribed orbit that a heavy chain allowed him ; and, not far off, 
another, an Ursa Minor, in every sense of the term, a little cub, 
which a lady, walking in the woods, had found, and brought the 
day before to the hotel. I went down at once, to make little 
bruin's acquaintance. He thrust his little black snout into my 
pocket without ceremony ; but I soon found out that he wouldn't 
be a good bear, unless I gave him sugar-plums ; and, as I don't 
like to have much to do with a disposition of that kind, I left him 
sitting on his haunches, and sucking his paws, in a Jack-Horner 
attitude that was quite comical. 

The forenoon passed ; and I had just composed myself to a 
comfortable, after-dinner nap, when there burst upon my ears an 
agonizing shriek j another, and another, in rapid succession, min- 
gled with what seemed to be the fierce growls of an infuriated 
beast. I jumped off my bed, rapidly descended the stairs, and 
rushing out upon the piazza, found that the uproar proceeded from 



l868.] THE STORY OF A ROYAL BENGAL TIGER. 32! 

a shady grass-plot, where half-a-dozen children stood screaming at 
the top of their lungs. Now, as I had taken this long journey 
expressly to get away from the noise of children, it was with no 
very pleasant emotions that I made this discovery ; and it was, 
doubtless, in a tone of unfeigned horror at the disturbance, that, 
approaching the group, I asked, " What's all this?" The other 
children seemed cowed for a moment, till a youngster, of about 
nine years, with a smooth, brown skin, dark, flashing eyes, and 
pearly teeth, marched up to me, and said, in the deepest tones his 
little body could muster, " I'm a Royal Bengal Tiger ; and I'm 
going to eat these children up ; " and then dashed off in full pursuit 
of his anticipated meal. 

I paused a moment for reflection. A Royal Bengal Tiger ! And 
only a few days before, I had read of a woman, in India, who had 
been carried off by one of these savage animals. Was I, too, to 
be made a victim ? Were all my promised peace and quiet to be 
broken up by him ? Flying from the din of a noisy city to this 
secluded spot, here it was suddenly transformed into a jungle of 
wild beasts, their leader a Royal Bengal Tiger. The very name is 
ferocious, and awakens a fearful interest. This was, to me, a new 
species, and I resolved to observe him closely. " You have a very 
difficult character to sustain, Mr. Dark-Eyes," I thought \ " for, to 
be a tiger, without ever degenerating to a cat, requires considerable 
manliness." But he did it j and from that moment, he never lost 
sight of his assumed part. That very night, after tea, I strayed 
into the great parlor, where I found the Tiger and his friends 
squatted in a circle, and playing " hunt the slipper." In the very 
height of their merriment, the waiter came in to make the neces- 
sary preparations for the usual evening "hop," when Tiger's 
mamma, evidently thinking that the children's hour was over, said 
quietly, " Come, my son ; it's bedtime." Now, thought I, the cat 
must appear. He will set up a terrible " miaow " at the uncere- 
monious interruption of his pleasures. But, no j he got up imme- 
diately, and marched off in the most stately manner, saying, with a 
low growl, as he put his velvet paw into my hand in passing me, 
" Now, I'm going to my den." 



322 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 



[August, 




A SINGULAR fish is found in 
great numbers in the coast rivers 
of Alaska. It is about eight inches 
long, transparent, and the most fat 
of all the finny tribes. This fat, 
however, has not the oily, rancid 
taste of other fish, but is like fresh 
lard. When these fish are dried, 
the Indians often turn them to a 
novel and practical account burn 
them, in place of candles. They 
give a clear, brilliant light, are not 
liable to be blown out by the wind. 
Mr. Manson, the Superintendent at 
Fort Simson, says that the tail 
should be lighted, instead of the 
head, and each fish will last about 
fifteen minutes. 

To STOP THE FLOW OF BLOOD. 
The following mode of stopping 
the flow of blood should be remem- 
bered by every one. Housekeepers, 
mechanics, and others, handling 
knives, tools, and other instruments, 
frequently receive small cuts from 
which blood flows profusely, and 
often endangers life itself. Blood 
may be made to cease to flow as 
follows : Take the fine dust of tea, 
and bind it close to the wound at 
all times accessible and easy to be 
obtained. After the blood has 
ceased to flow, laudanum may 
be advantageously applied to the 
wound. Due regard to these in- 
structions would save agitation of 
mind, and running for a surgeon, 



who probably would make no better 
prescription if he were present. 

FRETTING is a perpetual confes- 
sion of weakness. It says, " I want 
to, and I can't." Fretting is like a 
little dog pawing and whining at a 
door, because he can't get in. 

THE DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE'S 
POSSESSIONS. Some idea of an 
English duke's estate may be had 
when we state that the country es- 
tablishment of the Duke of Devon- 
shire would occupy one of our large 
counties. The park immediately 
surrounding the palace contains 
three thousand acres. The princi- 
pal gardens for vegetables, fruits, 
greenhouses, etc., ^is twenty-five 
acres. There are thirty greenhouses, 
each from fifty to seventy-five feet 
long. Three or four of these 
contain nothing but pineapples ; 
others contain nothing but melons 
and cucumbers. One peach-tree 
on the glass wall measures fifty- 
one feet in width, fifteen feet in 
height, and bears ten hundred and 
sixty peaches. It is the largest in 
the world. The grapehouses, five 
or six in all, are seven hundred feet 
long. But what shall be said of the 
great conservatory, filled with every 
variety of tropical plants ? It is 
one of the wonders of the world. 
It covers an acre of ground, is one 
hundred feet high, of oval shape, 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE S SCRAP-BAG. 



323 



and cost five hundred thousand 
dollars. It is heated by steam and 
hot-water pipes, which in all are six 
miles in length. The apparatus 
consumes six hundred tons of coal 
in a year. 

A GENTLEMAN in Paris has the 
mania of collecting steel or metallic 
pens, of every possible pattern, and 
his museum is said to embrace 
nearly a thousand varieties. An- 
other has spoons of all ages ; and 
a third, knives and and forks. A 
beautiful pair of these, in carved 
ivory of the sixteenth century, was 
recently purchased by him at a sale 
for four thousand francs. Another 
mania is that of collecting mono- 
grams from letters. There is also 
the rage for buttons, beautiful peb- 
bles, and last, not least, for keys, 
causing a great rummaging in the 
stocks of dealers in old iron and 
locksmiths. In fact, any kind of 
collecting which can be imagined 
is at once taken up and carried out 
in the most zealous manner, regard- 
less of expense. 

How GLADIATORIAL SHOWS 

WERE PUT AN END TO IN ROME. 

Charity accomplished what no 
earthly power had dared to com- 
mence. An Eastern monk, named 
Telemachus, took up his staff one 
day and journeyed to Rome, to put 
down the gladiatorial combats. On 
the ist of January, of the year A. D. 
404, the Roman people, piled tier 
upon tier on the benches of the 
Coliseum, were celebrating the sixth 
consulate of Honorius. The arena 
had already been reddened with the 
blood of several pairs of gladiators, 
when, suddenly, in the thick of an 
assault of arms, which held every 
eye fixed and kept every mind in 
breathless suspense, a monk ap- 
peared, rushed forward with out- 
stretched arms, and forced the 
swords asunder. At the sight, the 



astonished audience rose as one 
man, raising the question as to what 
madman it could be who dared to 
interrupt the pleasures of^he most 
sovereign people. Then curses, 
threats, and, finally, stones rained 
from every circle. Telemachus fell 
dead, and the combatants finished 
their bout. His blood sealed the 
abolition of the games of blood; 
the martyrdom of the monk forced 
the resolution of Honorius, and the 
same year an edict was issued which 
put an end to these fearful amuse- 
ments. 

GOOD BOOKS. Good books are 
to the young mind what the warming 
sun and the refreshing rain of spring 
are to the seeds which have lain 
dormant in the frosts of winter. 
They are more ; for they may save 
from that which is worse than death, 
as well as bless with that which is 
better than life. Horace Mann. 

ENOUGH FOR BOTH. A little 
sparrow lighted upon a trough from 
which a horse was eating. " Hor- 
sie," said the sparrow, timidly ; " let 
me peck a little, only a grain or two, 
and you will still have enough." 

" Help yourself," said the horse 
to the sparrow; "help yourself; 
there's enough for both of us." 

And so they ate together, and 
neither suffered from hunger ; and 
when the warm sunshine came, and 
swarms of flies buzzed around, the 
sparrow killed them by hundreds ; 
and so the horse was well paid for 
his kindness. 

THE Hindoos extend their hospi- 
tality to their enemies, saying, 
" The tree does not withdraw its 
shade even from the wood-cutter." 

ONE drop of strong spirits of 
hartshorn will instantly remove 
the pain caused by the sting of a 
bee, wasp, or hornet. 



3 2 4 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[August, 








sends the longest list of correct 
answers, and wins the prize for 
June. 



A very easy enigma for the little 
ones. 

211. I am composed of 24 letters: 
My 14, i, 20, is an article of 

wearing apparel. 
My 1 6, 10, 6, is a weight. 
My 17, 7, 2, 12, is a precious 

metal. 
My 23, 15, 8, is a troublesome 

animal. 

My 21, 22, 3, ii, is to relate. 
My 5, 15, 1 8, 20, 24, we don't 

like to take. 

My 19, 13, is a pronoun. 
My 9, 4, 23, 1 8, is what I am. 
My whole is a well-known 

proverb. Lou. 



212. I am composed of 8 letters : 

My i, 2, 3, 7, is a boy's name. 
My 5, 6, 4, 8, is an island. 
My whole is a city in Penn- 
sylvania. Sagittaw. 

213. I am composed of 14 letters: 

My i, n, 12, 8, is a bird. 
My 4, 2, 9, 7, is a pronoun. 
My 10, 13, ii, is deplorable. 
My 14, 3, 5, is a period of 

time. 

My 2, 6, 12, is a tool. 
My whole is what you now 

read. 

Millard F. Richards. 

214. I am a little word of wondrous 

weight, 

And much affected by the 
would-be great ; 

Beheaded, or curtailed, in 
either view, 

Straightway appear my prep- 
ositions two ; 

Reversed, a simple privative 
you'll find, 

Or snarl, which you can 
easily unwind. Tempy. 

215. Hes's glon ni reh cafe, 

Hes's nife ni reh honr, 
Lesh'l quycilk teg aft, 
Thouwit kace ro norc ; 
Hes's nacle ni reh saw], 
Dan lufl ni reh inche, 
Hes's ayhev ni fankl, 
Dan dwie ni reh nilo. 

Eddie E. Perkins. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



325 



NAMES OF PLACES IN IOWA. 

216. A fluid, and a game of cards. 

217. A tree, and a rush down a 

steep place. 

218. A place of rest, and a stream. 

219. An assembly, and bold, pro- 

jecting points. 

Northern Light. 

220. Behead two different words, 

and leave the opposite of 



each. 



Hero. 



221. Behead a poison, transpose, 

and leave a country, 

Keystone. 

NAMES OF PLANTS, FLOWERS,ETC., 
ENIGMATICALLY EXPRESSED. 

222. A boy's nickname, a preposi- 

tion, and a verb. 

223. Something found in all houses 

(with " modern improve- 
ments "), and a girl's name. 
Royal Bhte. 



224. Blarney stone. 
239- 



Tempy. 



WORDS ENIGMATICALLY EX- 
PRESSED. 



225. Hook a vessel. 



Hero. 



226. You partook of food in wicked- 
ness. Auntie. 



227. Achieve moral power. 



228. One of the nine. 

ANAGRAMS. 

229. I end my cat. 

230. Sad, pan, sir. 

231. Hogs hunt ores. 

232. At a duster. 

233. I see it in bliss. 



234. I paint car. Anna W. N. 

235. Transpose a beverage into 

what everybody has done. 
Fred. 

C. W. J. 



A. R. T. 

Rena. 

Fred. 

Belle. 

Joe Kose. 

Max. 

Ned W. 



236. 10005001100150. 

237. 10001010001000300. 



F. F. 



238. 90500. 



Prairie Boy. 




&jjj = 'A nswers jnust reach me before 
the $th of September. Those re- 
ceived later will not be credited. 

fgi 5 " Send all communications in- 
tended for the PUZZLE DRAWER to 
"Aunt Sue," Box m, P. O., Brook- 
lyn, N. Y. 



Aunt Sue. 

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN JUNE 
NUMBER. 

147. Monkshood. 

148. Washington's birthday. 

149. Alexandria. 

150. Hiram Ulysses Grant 

151. Potato. 



126 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[August, 



152. Personage. 

153. Cardiac. 

154. Jonquil. 
155- Og, go. 

156. Targe, grate. 

157. Panicle, pelican, plaice, Celia. 

158. Miserable. 

159. Penitent. 

1 60. Wads worth. 

161. Hurlburt. 

162. Johnston. 

163. Beauregard. 

164. Watches. 

165. Mnemosyne. 

1 66. Theatricals. 

167. Calisthenics. 

1 68. Betrothal. 

169. Flourished. 

170. Secrete (see Crete). 

171. When they are on the strike. 

172. Smoking. 

173. Roset, rose. 

174. Obolus, bolus. 

175. Bobolink. 

176. Partridge. 

177. Catamount. 

178. Sparrow. 

179. Suspicion and distrust are the 

greatest enemies to friend- 
ship. 

1 80. Tools (two Is). 

181. Olio. 

182. Chromos are handsome pic- 

tures, but are not equal to 
those in oil-colors. 

Of the above Puzzles, 

Forrest answers all but 151, 152, 
173, 1 80. 



Max answers all but 147, 152, 158, 
170, 174. 

locia answers all but 152, 153, 154, 
1 68, 172, 1 80. 

Keystone answers all but 147, 152, 
154, 158, 161, 170. 

Belle answers all but 153, 160, 165, 
1 68, 174, 1 80. 

F. R. S. answers all but 147, 156, 
157, 170, 174, 1 80. 

Joe Kose answers all but 152, 154, 

157, 161, 165, 1 80. 

Chester answers all but 151, 152, 
153, 156, 158, 159, 161, 1 68, 

170, 172, 173, 174, 178. 

C. W. J. answers all but 150, 152, 
153, 154, 157, 158, 159, 1 60, 

161, 165, 1 68, 169, 170, 173, 
174, 1 80. 

Tempy answers 148, 149, 150, 156, 
159, 162, 163, 164, 1 66, 170, 

171, 172, 174, 175, 176, 178, 
179, 181, 182. 

Cicero answers 148, 149, 150, 151, 

158, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 
166, 171, 172, 175, 176, 177, 
181, 182. 

Clara answers 148, 149, 151, 161, 

162, 163, 164, 165, 1 66, 167, 
171, 172, 175, 176, 177, 178, 
179. 

Empire State answers 162, 163, 164, 

170, 171, 172, 175, 176, 177, 

178, 179, 181, 182. 

Carrie A. Leonard answers 148, 
149, 150, 155, 162, 163, 164, 

171, 172, 175, 177, 179, 182. 

Minnie answers 148, 150, 156, 162, 

163, 171, 172, 175, 176, 178, 

179, 181, 182. 

Lily and Rose answer 149, 175, 
177. 

W. T. Sharp answers 171, 175, 182. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



327 



NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENfS. 

Clara. I am delighted to hear 
from you again. I thought you had 
deserted us. 

Sagittaw. We prefer to have 
our rebuses read by the sound, in- 
stead of by the spelling. "Two 
u's eye tea he a sea," will hardly 
do for " with ease." No. 146, in the 
May number, is a very good speci- 
men. With these hints, you can 
get up a very nice one, judging by 
the specimen sent. 

Hugh Howard. See remarks to 
Sagittaw. 

Lillie C. would like to have Annie 
F. May correspond with her. Her 
address is Box 44, Springfield, New 
Jersey. Letters for the " Chatter- 
Box " should be addressed to Horace 
B. Fuller, 383 Washington Street, 
Boston, Mass. ; but I question 
whether he will publish them, un- 
less they are very generally inter- 
esting. 

Empire State. I haven't the least 
idea who you are ; but I like your 
nice, chatty letter. I frequently get 
lists of answers to puzzles without 
one word of greeting, and it seems 
so unsociable. I have not got the 
address you want. Shall I ask for 
it? 

Lor ain Lincoln. Somebody wants 
your address. 

Carrie A. Leonard. I consider 
it a very excellent beginning. 

Keystone. How could you come 
so near to the answer "secrete," 
without touching it ? I looked in 
the dictionary for the " coin " you 
mention ; and as I find it is " a 
small quantity of money," I credit 
you with the answer. 

Forrest. Are you the same For- 
rest who won a prize in August, 
1 865 ? I have not got your address. 
When you send it, please state 
whether you have won the first or 
second prize. 



As we like to give all our puzzlers 
an equal chance to find out the 
enigmas, etc., we do not care to 
receive any Latin riddles. 

Several lists of answers were re- 
ceived last month, too late to be 
credited. 

Thanks for enigmas, etc., to Clara, 
Sagittaw, Hugh Howard, Lillie C, 
and Keystone. 

Puzzlers will please take notice, 
that we desire, in future, to receive 
all answers before the fifth of the 
month following the date of the 
magazine. 

K. K. K. Ku Klux Klan ! " 
Your letter marked " official busi- 
ness," signed with such significant 
initials, and containing the order, 
" Falk over what you owe," con- 
flMsterificated me greatly. I am 
happy to say that I don't owe a 
cent to anybody. If it be intended 
for a rebus, I must decline it, be- 
cause it has been so used up. But 
don't be discouraged ; try again. 
You must be an artist. That 
" fork " was a chef d'ceuvre. 

Willy Wisp does not desire the 
" credit " (which, in justice, I was 
about to give him,) for the rebus in 
the June number ; because, in pre- 
paring it for the engraver, I substi- 
tuted a "butt" (see Webster], for 
his " but." I should also add, that 
to illustrate " chromos," W. W. 
represented a crow with a scythe in 
its claws. I trust that he will con- 
sider this explanation as an amende 
honorable, for the omission of his 
signature and for the alteration of 
his designs. 

Charlie. You will find the " ex- 
planation of the prizes" in the notice 
to Dick, on page eighty, of the Feb- 
ruary number. 

Hero. Where is that photograph 
you promised me ? I am prepared 
to exchange phizographs with any 
of the Cousins. 



MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. [August. 




THE intense heat having spoilt 
our proposed cruise, by laying up 
our captain with a sun-stroke, we 
have no refreshing recollections of 
the briny deep to offer this month. 
Our ideas seem dried up, like the 
cucumber-vines ; for, in weather 
like this, when Holmes's " Hot 
Spell" is the most appropriate 
song, Church's " Icebergs " the most 
popular picture, and Arctic soda 
and frozen pudding the only beara- 
ble food and drink, what can one 
do but lie and fan, sighing for east 
winds and a cloudy sky ? 

If any of the young Merry's wish 
to become merrier, let me advise 
them to go to Van Amburgh's 
Menagerie, and see young Hanni- 
bal, the baby elephant. Although 
as big as a couple of horses put 
together, he looks very small be- 
side the full-grown Tipoo Saib, with 
his flapping ears, old, wrinkled 
skin, funny eyes, and gouty-looking 
legs. When he squeals for seed- 
cakes, robs pockets slyly, rolls over 
the camels, or lies on his back, 
playing with his own little tail like 
a kitten, he is so very comical, that 



f 



every fun-loving person should see 
him, and have a good laugh, to keep 
their spirits up, like the tempera- 

f n-t-o 



ture. 



OWING to the illness of the au- 
thor, we are obliged to go to press 
this month without the usual in- 
stalment of " Mink Curtiss." 

BOOKS RECEIVED. 

Ragged Dick. By HORATIO AL- 
GER, JR. Price, $1.25. Boston : 
A. K. Loring. 

An entertaining story of street 
life in New York, originally pub- 
lished in the " Schoolmate." 

The Old Brown Pitcher. By the 
author of "Susie's Six Birth- 
days." Price, $1.00. 

The Temperance Doctor. By Miss 
MARY DWINELL CHELLIS. Price, 

$1.25. 

These handsome volumes are 
from the press of the National 
Temperance Society and Publica- 
tion House (J. N. Stearns), New 
York, and are intended for Sunday 
School and Family Libraries, for 
which they appear to be well 
adapted. 




VOL. I.] 



SEPTEMBER, 1868. 



[NO. 9. 



PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. 

JIMMY JUMPER. 

OME time ago, my friend, Miss Wide- 
awake, and I made a charming visit at 
a country-seat named Elmhill. We 
spent the daytime with the grown- 
people of the house, but as soon as 
tea was over, we went to the library 
with the children, and played games 
and told stories. 

Miss Wideawake's stories were de- 
lightful, at least, the children thought 
I so \ and I am going to write out some 
of them for the readers of the " Mu- 
seum." I must, however, skip the 
questions and exclamations of her 
I young listeners ; nor can I tell how 
Geordie nearly broke his neck in trying to climb like an opossum; 
or how Harry spoiled the jackstraws, making a nest like a swan ; or 
how Nellie screamed like a cockatoo, or how Maggie chattered like a 
magpie. All this the spice, as one may say must be left out, 
or Uncle Robert will certainly say, " Too long ; " and toss the manu- 
script into his waste-basket. Even now, I fancy him looking it 
over, and thinking, " Why can't people come to the point at once ? " 




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by H. B. FCTLLKB, in the Clerk's 
Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



330 PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. [September, 

So, without further explanations, I will give my friend's account of 
her Jimmy Jumper. 

"When I was with my grandparents in Tasmania," said Miss 
Wideawake, "Tasmania is an island, lying southeast of the 
southern extremity of Australia, when I was in Tasmania, I had 
an opossum named Jimmy Jumper. I never saw an American 
opossum ; but the Tasmanian is a pretty creature, growing some- 
what larger than a very large cat, dark-gray, black, dark-brown, or 
golden-brown in color, with delicate ears, brilliantly dark eyes, a 
nose and whiskers shaped like those of a mouse, and a peculiarly 
pleasing expression of face. The female cannot spare her fore- 
paws to hold her baby opossum as human mothers hold their 
darling infants, so she has a pouch into which she puts it as soon as 
it is born ; and in this soft, warm cradle it lies at ease, eating and 
sleeping until it has acquired some size and strength, when it grows 
curious about the world it has entered, and pops up its head in a 
manner very funny to see. By-and-by, it desires to feel the sun- 
shine and to nibble the fresh grass, when it hops out ; but if tired, 
hungry, or frightened, it returns to its resting-place until it is too 
large for the cozy nest. Possy has a wonderful tail, long, strong, 
and able to cling so tightly that the owner can swing his whole 
weight by it ; and even when shot in this position, he will remain 
hanging a minute before dropping to the ground. 

" It seems almost cruel to kill the merry creatures, but people do 
very often \ sometimes for their fur, which makes handsome rugs, 
sometimes for their fat little bodies which are fed to dogs, and 
sometimes because of their naughty pranks with the farmers' crops. 
Moonlight nights are dangerous for possy, for then the hunters can 
see him as he comes out of his house, usually a hole in a tall 
tree, a peppermint-tree, if he can find one, and frolics like a 
squirrel among the branches, or runs down to feast upon the grass 
and herbs below. Great is his glee when the corn fills its kernels 
with sweet milk, but a field of wheat-stacks, carefully bound, and 
placed in long rows like soldiers at a review, drives him almost 
frantic with pleasure. He proclaims the discovery to his kindred, 
and invites all the kangaroos in the neighborhood to partake of 
the banquet. Soon the fun grows furious. The tricksy creatures 
unbind the sheaves and let down the nodding heads, they chase 
each other over and through the fallen grain, they nibble here and 
there, wasting much more than they consume, and leaving traces of 
their revelry all over the once well-ordered field. 



1 868.] PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. 331 

" Grandpapa, who was one of the neatest of farmers, always 
looked displeased when opossums were mentioned ; and often sent 
Tom, one of the farm-servants, to shoot them. Neither of them 
told me about it, however, for I could not bear the thought of their 
being killed ; and so, when I asked, * What is to be the game to- 
night, Tom ? ' he answered, ' Devils, miss/ and passed gravely on. 

" I didn't care for the devils ; indeed, I rather liked to have them 
put out of the way ; for though they are a species of opossum, they 
are ferocious animals, always prowling about at night after sheep 
and poultry j and I feared for my pets among the flocks and in the 
fowl-yard. I, therefore, slept quietly through the hunts, which I 
certainly should not have done, had I seen in fancy my sprightly 
favorites cut down in the midst of their merry gambols. Then Tom 
really shot or trapped a good many devils, and showed me their 
skins ; also native cats, which were mischievous when alive, and 
good for nothing after they were dead. He killed a wolf, too, now 
and then ; so that I suspected nothing until I was enlightened by a 
present of a baby-opossum. 

" ' You see, I couldn't help it,' said Tom, in an apologetic way ; 'I 
really couldn't. The doe, she was scatterin' the wheat like mad, 
and bitin' it, and jumpin' on it, and itwa'nt in human nature, least- 
ways in farmer nature, not to raise my gun and pull the trigger. 
She dropped dead, miss. She never know'd what hurt her ; and I 
jest took this little feller out of her pouch and brought it to you.' 

" ' Poor little mother ! poor little orphan ! ' I said, sorrowfully ; 
' but I thank you, Tom, ever so much. I suppose they ought to be 
killed, at least some of them, for they are very destructive to 
the grain ; and I walked slowly away to ask if I might keep my 
treasure. 

" ' Yes, if you choose,' replied grandpapa ; ' but, mark my words, 
you will wish the rascal dead in a week.' 

" ' I am afraid he will be more troublesome than amusing,' said 
grandmamma, with a faint sigh. 

" ' Ye'll be main glad to git red on't,' said the carpenter, who made 
the cage. 

" I was very indignant at these repeated warnings. It seemed so 
hard-hearted to say such things about a baby-possy, particularly 
about one who had just lost his mother ; but I listened in silence, 
resolved to admire and love my pet enough for the whole family 
put together, and fancied myself triumphantly receiving the ac- 
knowledgments of the different members when they should 



33 2 P TS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. [September, 

become convinced of his many excellences, an expectation 
which, by the way, was never fulfilled. 

" Possy was about as large as a red squirrel when he came to me. 
He had grayish-brown fur, and a sweet winning face. I called 
him ' Jimmy Jumper, ' in anticipation of his future activity, and found 
no occasion to change his name. He passed the day in a bed of 
wool and hay, but at dusk, he awoke, ready for supper and fun. 
He ate neatly enough to shame some little boys and girls at the 
family table, for he took the bread out of his sweetened milk, held 
it in his forepaws, which were furnished with long, slender toes, 
and swallowed quietly, as if he had been trained to good manners 
all his life. Soon I added parsley, nuts, and grass to his bill of 
fare, with sugar for dessert, of which he was extremely fond. 

" After a time, Jimmy learned to open the door of his cage. I 
was proud of this accomplishment, and secretly vexed because 
nobody appeared as pleased as myself. ' Poor, dear little fellow,' 
I said ; ' if you were a cockatoo, or a kangaroo, or Dog Floss, or 
Puss Silvertail, there would be fuss enough made over you ; but, 
never mind, you shall have everything that a possy can have while 
you belong to me.' 

" So I put a small table in the hall, on which I laid my pet's supper, 
and every day I fastened a fresh acacia-bush beside, as a reminder 
of his native woods. This proved most acceptable to Jimmy, who 
cantered into the house, scrambled up the tree, hooked his tail 
round an upper branch, and while swinging lightly to and fro took 
his food from the dish, and swallowed it, head downward. I used 
to fear he would choke ; but when I remonstrated with him on the 
impropriety of his position, and tried to set him right, he gave me 
so decidedly to understand, that he knew his own business best, 
that I afterward kept my anxiety to myself. 

"After supper, Jimmy's season of activity began ; and such activity ! 
The large, well-lighted sitting-room appeared to him much the best 
place for his pranks, and if he were shut out, away he scampered 
to the veranda, and popped in through an open window. If that 
resource failed him, back he came, and raced up the wall to the top 
of the door, calling and scolding, and ready to dart through if it 
were left ajar for a moment. This accomplished, how his eyes 
glittered ! how innocent and unconscious he looked while plotting 
his small mischief! how he brushed his whiskers with his forepaw, 
or observed his tail until his plans were formed ! and then, how he 
dashed ahead, minding nothing and nobody ! Scud, scud, across 



1868.] PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. 333 

the piano, scattering the music-sheets as he ran ; up the bookcase 
in a twinkling, for a view of the situation, dangling by his tail from 
the long hook put up for a bird-cage ; down to the floor with a 
thump, to play at hide-and-seek in my skirts ; up the back of my 
chair, to pull my braids, or tickle my ear with a half nibble ; then 
pounce upon the table, eager for that fun of all fun, the upsetting 
of my work-basket, that he might see the spools roll about, and 
watch me as I pursued and captured the runaways. Nothing but 
a thunder-storm could keep him quiet at night. That was effectual. 
No matter how fully bent upon mischief he might be, the first 
distant peal, the first flash of lightning, sent him to his favorite 
hiding-place, a game-bag which usually hung in the hall. There, 
with his head thrust quite into a corner, and nothing visible from 
the outside but his overhanging tail, he remained, silent and motion- 
less, until long after the shower had passed by. 

" These antics, although vastly amusing at first, were, I must con- 
fess, rather wearisome after a time. I fondly hoped that increasing 
age might make my pet more careful, more considerate, less dan- 
gerous to the little conveniences and ornaments scattered about 
the rooms ; but T hoped in vain. He continued just as giddy- 
headed, just as fleet-footed, and just as merry as ever, while his 
greater size made him much more destructive. Then, his habit of 
hooking himself to anything which would support him, and dropping 
unexpectedly on or in whatever happened to be beneath, was 
uncomfortable, to say the least. Sometimes he frightened a guest 
by a sudden descent to his head ; sometimes he set Silvertail to 
growling and spitting by an equally familiar greeting ; once he 
nearly terrified me out of my senses by bouncing upon me at 
night, after my nerves had been shaken by the death of a favorite 
dog from the bite of a snake ; once he splashed into a great bowl 
of lemonade ; and once he upset a dressing-glass and broke it to 
pieces. 

"Jimmy tried that game once too often, and the occasion was this. 
Some English people of distinction, named Drayton, were visiting 
our next neighbor, and grandmamma invited them to a grand 
dinner which was fixed for seven o'clock in the evening. The 
whole house was put in gala trim ; and I obtained permission to 
wear my very best dress, a blue silk, with pretty trimmings. Jimmy 
had his supper in his cage, which was fastened securely, as it was 
supposed ; and the weather being warm, the doors and windows 
were left open, that the slight breeze which was stirring might find 
its way through the rooms. 



334 PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. [September, 

" I meant to dress very early, that I might have plenty of time to 
decorate the table with cut flowers, but just as I was going to my 
room for that purpose, Tom brought me his cap full of young 
quails. The tiny, downy, brown things were so lovely, that I 
lingered over them longer than I was aware ; and when I entered 
the dining-room with my blossoms, I found that I must make all 
possible haste. In my hurry, I dropped my handkerchief, and as I 
stooped to recover it, a light breeze came puff, puff, and sent it 
quite under the sideboard. I reached farther and farther, and 
finally almost lay down on the floor in my eagerness to seize it. 
Before I could rise, bump, thump, and a great blow fell upon my 
back. I thought my spine was broken. I imagined a horrid 
snake had darted upon me ; but in a moment, I perceived that 
Jimmy had escaped from his cage, run up the sideboard, curled 
his tail round the stem of a tall glass dish of preserves, and let 
himself down on me, bringing his anticipated support with him. 
Over went the dish, breaking into fragments in the fall ; away 
scampered Jimmy, with a gleeful chuckle aggravating to hear ; and 
down poured the sweetmeats, flooding my skirt, running round my 
waist, trickling over my neck, and staining my lace sleeves with 
great splashes of crimson. 

" I screamed ; and the whole household rushed in, with uplifted 
hands, eyes wide open, and every variety of outcry and question. 
Dear, gentle grandmamma, flushed and worried, came as near me 
as her holiday garments would permit, asking anxiously, 'Are 
you hurt, my darling ? My love, are you cut ? ' 

" Dear, irritable grandpapa danced up and down the room, calling, 
1 Put him out ! Catch him ! Kill the rascal ! ' 

" Tom and John, and Betsy and Clerie, following the master's 
commands, made vigorous dashes at the rogue, who raced across 
the sideboard, darted up the wall, and finally dashed through the 
open window to his cage, on which he perched himself, chuckling 
and laughing, and apparently challenging the entire family to a 
trial of speed. 

" In the midst of the commotion, the guests arrived. My grand- 
parents went to receive them ; and I, gathering up my soiled skirts, 
fled to my chamber. After my blue silk, my wardrobe offered 
nothing more showy than a plain white muslin ; but when I had 
placed in my hair a cluster of the richly-scented white-fringed stars 
of the peppermint-tree, which happened to be in blossom, and 
tied a blue sash round my waist, I was surprised to find myself 



l868.] PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. 335 

less self-conscious, more free, more at ease, and, therefore, in more 
really lady-like trim than when arrayed in the unlucky garments 
which had been so unexpectedly spoiled. So, I recovered my 
spirits, and went to the drawing-room, not only contented, but 
happy. 

" The introductions were over, and I was just seating myself beside 
a pretty girl of my own age, when there was a skirr and chuckle ; 
and behold, my pet was on my shoulder, greedily catching at the 
long, narrow peppermint leaves intermingled with the snowy 
blossoms which adorned my braids. 

" ' The rascal ! ' exclaimed grandpapa, his anger rising again 
at sight of the offender ; whereupon, grandmamma gave a lively 
account of the recent disaster, not omitting my discomfiture at 
the ruin of my finest dress, or the sentence passed upon the 
merry, teasing rogue, who was to be shot the next morning, so soon 
as he should be fairly asleep. 

" Tears filled my eyes at this mournful prospect for my poor 
favorite, which Mr. Drayton saw, and he at once declared that he 
should be only too happy to accept possy as a gift for his five- 
years' old son, who would be delighted with this addition to his 
little menagerie. 

" The evening passed charmingly. The dinner was excellent, 
the conversation was animated, Miss Drayton sang sweetly ; and 
when our guests departed, they took Jimmy with them. I never 
saw him again, but I learned that he lived comfortably with his 
new friends until he was killed by a strange dog belonging to a 
neighboring hunter." M. G. SLEEPER. 




336 TEMPTATION. [September, 



TEMPTATION. 

LINNET, Bird Linnet ! What, not stop a minute ? 

Whither so fast away ? 
Come to the garden, dear ; cherries are plenty here, 

Cherries red-ripe this day. 

Come, let me hear you sing ; come, dip your glossy wing 

Where the cool water-brooks run ; 
Stooo for the clover-seed ; light on the mullen-weed ; 

Chase the gay flies in the sun. 

" No ; 'neath the sunny sky, gauzy-winged dragon-fly, 

I cannot wait to make mine 
Sport I no longer seek, nor may I dip my beak 

In the red cherry's sweet wine. 

" I may not stay to look ev'n at the -water-brook : 

Yonder, my little ones three, 
They whom I love the best, look from their leafy nest, 

Hungry and waiting for me." 

Ah, but you should not miss pleasure so great as this, 

Ready and ripe for you here ; 
Though, from the heavy bough, hang they in plenty now, 

Cherries don't last all the year. 

Far away speedeth he, taking no heed of me, 

Caring not here to alight ; 
Dear voices call to him, they who are all to him, 

Why should I hinder his flight ? 

Go, Linnet ; soar away ; duty and love obey ; 

If to the right we hold fast, 
We shall find everywhere something that's good and fair, 

Even though cherry-time's past. 

MRS. A. M. WELLS. 



i868.] 



WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 



337 



WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 




|E have each got something for you to tell about, grand- 
ma," said Polly, one evening, showing a downy little 
mole which she had taken from her cat. 

" Mine's a striped squirrel/' added Will, displaying 
his with the pride of a young hunter. 
" Poor little fellow ! some cruel boy shot him for sport, J sup- 




338 WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. [September, 

pose," said grandma, smoothing the soft fur on its breast where 
the shot went in. 

Will looked as if he knew the " cruel boy," but didn't mean to 
betray him, for he said, hastily, " Did you ever see a flying squir- 
rel, ma'am ? " 

" Yes ; it was dead, but very curious ; and I should have liked to 
see it fly. It had large black eyes, round ears, and a tapering tail, 
with the hair disposed flatwise along the sides. The upper part 
of the body was light-brown ; underneath, it was white. A hairy 
sort of membrane spreads along the sides of the body, and goes 
down to the toes on its fore and hind legs. This it spreads when 
flying, or leaping rather, for it keeps them up as the air lifts a kite. 
They can't stay up long, so they take care to start from high trees, 
and when they fall, cling to the lower branches. These leaps 
are from twelve to fourteen feet, my old book says ; and when 
several go at once, they look like leaves blown about by the wind. 
When not flying, this membrane is folded up at the sides, and the 
creature looks much like other squirrels, except its queer tail. 

" This sort, live in hollow trees, where they sleep by day, and 
come out toward night, very lively and busy. They live in flocks, 
several on one tree, which they seldom quit for the ground, always 
running along the branches. They have three or four little ones 
at a time, and store up food like other squirrels. They are easily 
tamed, and being fond of warmth, like to creep up people's sleeves 
or into their pockets." 

" Our gray one used to do that. Tell about that kind, please," 
said Will ; who didn't seem in any hurry to talk of his striped one. 

" That kind come from northern climates, and they move from 
place to place. It is said, in Lapland, when on one of their 
marches they come to a river, they get pieces of bark and 
launch them, and, sitting in these queer boats, put up their bushy 
tails for sails, and cross in that way. If a storm rises, the poor 
little sailors are wrecked, and the people find many dead ones 
washed ashore. These they rejoice over, and sell their skins. 
Here, in parts of North America, they do mischief sometimes 
among the corn, by climbing up and eating the sweet kernels. 
Once there was a sort of law in Maryland, that every person was 
to bring four squirrels every year, and to be sure of it, the heads 
were given to the appointed person. In this way, many thousand 
squirrels were killed." 

" I'd like to live in Maryland," muttered Will ; trying to make 



i868.] WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 339 

the dead creature sit up on a leaf, with its tail spread like the gray 
sailors. 

" They are so active, that they are very difficult to shoot, and the 
best marksmen find it hard to hit them," added grandma; who 
hated guns, and always expected to see Will brought home in little 
bits, when he went out with his. "Black squirrels are said to 
swim great distances, using their tails as rudders. But the striped 
sort does not take to the water, I believe. They, like the common 
squirrel, gather food for winter, and carry grain home in their 
cheek-pouches." 

" Yes ; this one has got an acorn in one of its cheeks," cried 
Will, showing it. 

" If you had found its hole, you would have found a very curious 
little grainery. They have many galleries, and several doors, so 
that when pursued they can pop in easily. There are many rooms, 
in each of which they put a different sort of food, acorns in one, 
corn in another, nuts in a third ; and so on. In winter, they live 
here, sleeping much, but sometimes waking, and feasting sumptu- 
ously in spite of bad weather. Fine days, they come out a little, 
but stay at home a good deal, as we do, and keep warm till spring. 
They are very fond of their young, and when the mother wishes to 
carry them about, she rolls each up in a ball, tail out, and takes 
them in her mouth, as a cat does her kittens. There used to be a 
family in this old elm, and I enjoyed seeing the good little mother 
feed and take care of her three lively babies. The cat killed the 
old one, and brought the tail to show me. I was very sorry ; but, 
being an animal, puss knew no better ; so I did not scold her." 

Something in this speech made Will look uneasy, as he asked, 
anxiously, " Do the little ones starve, if the mother gets killed ? " 

" If they are very young, I suppose they do," began grandma ; 
but Will cried eagerly, " This one's baby was running round with 
her, and getting acorns ; so, I guess it won't die." 

" You killed the mother, then ? " 

" Well, I didn't think ; it was only for fun. I'm sorry, and I won't 
skin it, but make it a first-rate grave," stammered Will ; looking 
ashamed of himself, for he did think now, and saw that his fun was 
pain and sorrow, death and helplessness, to poor Mrs. Squirrel and 
her little family. 

" Don't look sober at him, he's sorry, and won't do it any more. 
Tell me if my mole is as nice as he looks ? " said Polly ; wishing 
to relieve Will. 



340 WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. [September, 

Grandma smiled again, and took the plump, velvety mole in her 
hand. 

" Yes ; he's a busy little fellow, and does a deal of hard work 
with these strong fore-feet and snout. Its eyes are so small that it 
is sometimes thought they have none, but they have ; see, here 
they are, tiny but bright, and half hidden in the thick fur. They 
hear wonderfully quick, and don't need eyes much, living as they 
do in the dark. They make arches of earth under ground, with 
pillars and partitions, weaving in grass and roots, and beating the 
dirt well to make it solid enough to keep out water. Under 
the main arch they make a mound, and spread a soft bed of leaves 
for the little ones, who lie high and dry, no matter how damp the 
weather. Many paths and galleries branch from the nest, and 
along these the moles run in and out, getting food, and attending 
to their affairs. In summer, they like meadows to burrow in, the 
earth being soft They dig with their paws, and push the dirt 
up to get it out of the way, which makes what are called * mole- 
hills/ They come out at night to hunt for worms, which they 
skin in a queer way before eating, and enjoy, as much as the 
owls enjoy eating the fat moles themselves. They are very af- 
fectionate, go in pairs, and don't care for any society beyond their 
family. In their dark little houses, they live happily together, 
with plenty to eat, and few enemies to disturb them ; for they 
shut up the doors when they like, and revel down below, unless 
water or a spade comes to trouble them." 

" How do you catch them ? " asked Will. 

" The cat will tell you," answered the old lady, slyly. 

" No ; that isn' t fair ! I won't try it, if you'll tell, grandma." 

" Well, Dr. Darwin says, the best way is, to go early in the day, 
when the moles are working, and turn up one of their hills with a 
spade, then pour water into the hole, and out pops little moley in 
such a great fright, that he may be easily caught. When first 
taken, it squeaks shrilly, and fights with teeth and claws, for though 
gentle at home, they can be very fierce abroad, and often have 
battles with strange moles. A viper, a toad, and a mole were put 
in a cage, and the mole at once killed the two other prisoners." 

" Smart little thing ! I thought moles were a sort of mouse ; 
they look like mice," said Polly, smoothing the velvet coat of her 
new acquaintance, while pussy sat purring with all her might, hop- 
ing to recover her lost supper. 



i868.] WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 341 

" No ; I believe they belong to the rat family, as they gnaw, and 
moles do not." 

"What opera tune do young mice sing to their mothers?" 
broke in Will. " ' Hear me, Norma (gnaw, ma).' Now, go on 
about mice, the field kind ; we know house-mice, don't we, puss ? " 

" Field-mice have holes in the ground, and lay up nuts and corn. 
These holes are often divided into two apartments ; one is a living- 
room, the other a dining-room, quite genteel and proper. As 
they have eight or ten little ones at once, it is a very sensible 
arrangement, for Mrs. Mouse could never get her meals with so 
many children under her feet. The nest of the harvest-mouse is 
very curious, for it is made of grass and straw, plaited together, 
perfectly round, and about as big as a cricket-ball. The door of 
the one I saw was so well hidden, that no one could find it ; and 
the nest was so firm and round, that it rolled across a table without 
breaking or spilling the eight ' little blind mice ' inside. This nest 
was found in an English wheat-field, hanging to a thistle. These 
mice use these nests' in summer, and in winter live in the corn- 
ricks where they are carried at harvest-time." 

" I like mice when they don't hop quick, and scare me. I wish 
I had a tame one to play with, they are so soft and cunning," said 
Polly. 

" I read once about a Scotchman, who trained two mice to spin 
cotton. The machinery was arranged, so that each of these com- 
mon mice could twist and reel one hundred or more threads a day ; 
and to do this, the tiny little fellows had each to run over ten 
miles a day, in their tiny tread-mill. A half-penny worth of oat- 
meal fed one for a month, and at this rate, each mousie earned 
about six shillings a year." 

As grandma paused, the children thanked her, and marched 
soberly away to the garden, to bury the mole and squirrel in the 
greenest of graves, a proceeding which much disgusted and 
disappointed the cat. 




342 THE STORY OF A ROYAL BENGAL TIGER. [September, 





THE STORY OF A ROYAL BENGAL TIGER, AND 
HOW HE PROVED HIS CLAIM TO THE TITLE. 

ii. 

[ALKING, the next day, with my friends, we wandered 
into a lovely forest-path, that seemed to wind to the 
summit of a hill. " The murmuring pines and the 
hemlocks, bearded with moss," stood like sentinels 
grown gray in the service, and whispered to us of a glorious 
view to be had from the crest. So, up we went An enormous 
black snake rolled his hateful bulk across my path ; and as I 
am foolishly afraid of these harmless reptiles, I proceeded in fear 
and trembling. But, in the enjoyment of the prospect that met 
my eyes when I reached the summit, the five highest peaks 
of the White-Mountain range, all within the scope of our vision, 
I was forgetting my fears, when I heard, in the distance, the voice 
of the Royal Bengal. " Oh, dear ! " thought I ; " here is an end to 
all enjoyment. With a noisy, romping boy to watch, who can 
appreciate the sublimity of these still mountain-tops ? " The party 
soon came in sight, and proved to be the Tiger, his father, and 
sister. They had been, as we were, severely bitten by the black 
flies, with which that region is infested, and had covered their 
necks and faces as far as possible with their handkerchiefs, to 
protect them from further assaults. When I saw that, I said to 
myself, " Now, he will certainly snarl, and show his teeth ; " for it 
really requires a more than full-grown patience to endure uncom- 
plainingly the stings of these voracious blood-suckers. I was, 
however, pleasantly disappointed. He uttered a howl, which he 
called a " hurrah," when he gained the spot where we stood ; waited 
patiently till the others had taken a long look through our opera- 
glasses ; and then, thanking me for one which I half grudgingly 



1868.] THE STORY OF A ROYAL BENGAL TIGER. 343 

offered him, expecting to see it go over the precipice, took a rapid 
survey on all sides, and said, in a hearty, appreciative way, " It 
pays for the black flies ; don't it, papa ? " 

We related our adventure with the snake, and after some con- 
versation, concluded to descend the mountain together. The Tiger 
walked quietly by my side, pushing aside the bushes for me to pass ; 
and when I remembered how a meaner animal of his kind would 
have enjoyed playing upon my fears, and tormented me with false 
alarms of the snake, I began to feel quite grateful to his tigership 
for his consideration, and to anticipate the pleasure of his company 
on other excursions. 

Not long after this, we arranged a plan for visiting a famous ice- 
glen in the vicinity, a place, deep in the recesses of the mountains, 
where the good people of the village said the ice never melted ; 
and, though it was described as quite inaccessible to ladies, we 
resolved to try it. So, early one morning, we mustered our party, 
consisting of the Tiger's father, mother, and sister ; our guide, a boy 
about seventeen, named Head, and one of his friends (who volun- 
teered for the occasion, and whom, from his skilful helpfulness, I 
afterwards christened Hands) ; my friends, and myself. You may 
judge of my surprise, when, just as I was stepping into the wagon, 
which was to convey the ladies of the party to the place where we 
were to strike into the woods, I spied Tiger curled up in the 
bottom. He jumped out, as he saw me, with the peculiar growl 
with which he now always greeted me. "What, Tiger going?" 
said I, with some anxiety, for it really seemed too hard a jaunt for 
so young a chap ; and I must confess, I had visions of a tired child 
and an anxious mother spoiling the day's sport. 

" Oh, yes ; Tiger always goes with us," said his father. 

" Better ride till we get to the woods, my boy," added he, as he 
saw my doubtful looks. 

" Oh, no, papa ; there's hardly room for the ladies, without me." 

" Plenty of room ; get in," we all shouted. 

" Better get in," muttered Head ; " you'll have more walkin' than 
you'll want to do." 

" That horse has got all he can do to carry the load he's got," 
said Tiger, with an important air that decided the question ; and off 
we started. (What a Royal Tiger, not to whine and tease to be 
allowed to fide and drive, as most boys would have done.) 

We awaited the arrival of the rest of the party at the edge of 
the woods, and presently saw Tiger leaping towards us. He was 



344 THE STORY OF A ROYAL BENGAL TIGER. [September, 

in high spirits. " Just cut me a stick, papa," said he ; " and I won't 
ask for anything else." 

The stick being procured, we all set off at a brisk pace ; but we 
did not keep it up long, for the deeper we went into the woods, the 
more intricate became the path, till at length it disappeared alto- 
gether. Then Head, with axe in hand, very properly went ahead, 
calling out to us to follow him. We held back timidly. " Where 
is the path ? how can you find your way ? " said we. 

" Oh ! I can tell by the lay of the land," replied he. And thus 
vaguely encouraged, but not without some misgivings, we proceeded. 

Hands was everywhere j now breaking off the boughs, that pulled 
at our skirts to keep us back ; and then standing ankle-deep in a 
bog, and making a bridge of his knee for us to cross. As for 
Tiger, he roared and capered at such a rate, that I half expected 
to see his poor relations, the wild cats, jump out from every covert 
to greet him. Now and then, Head cut a chip from the trees, as 
we wound our way in and out, in order that we might know our 
road home. This he called " blazing " the trees, though I did not 
see much blaze about it. I wished I could ; it would have been so 
cheerful, there in the cold, damp darkness. 

On we tramped, for five long weary hours, through almost im- 
penetrable forest. Overhead, a thick tangle of interwoven branches, 
shutting out every ray of sunshine ; underfoot, always a thicket 
of underbrush, disputing every inch of your passage ; here, a great 
charred hemlock stump, that threatens to impale you on its 
blackened spikes, and from which you escape, at best, only in the 
condition of little Phoebe, when she " scratched her face and tore 
her clothes ; " there, a huge dead trunk, which, when you would 
climb, to survey the waste over which you have wandered, crumbles 
to powder beneath your feet, and half buries you in the debris. 
Nothing to do, but to pick yourself up, and scramble on over great 
masses of rock, so loosely piled together, that, slipping on the soft 
green moss which offers a treacherous foothold, you plunge into 
the yawning throats of deep fissures that seem ready to swallow you 
bodily, or fall face downward into a great black chasm, where you 
feel, if you cannot see, the fiery eyes of hungry bears glaring at you. 

At last, our trail led us to a sort of amphitheatre, a large open 
circular place, carpeted with beautiful mosses of green and brown, 
and whose high and almost perpendicular walls of gray rock were 
hung with the gayest lichens of every color. 

Hungry and tired, we threw ourselves down upon the soft floor, 



1 868.] THE STORY OF A ROYAL BENGAL TIGER. 345 

declaring we would go no farther. After some consultation, Tiger's 
father said, that, having been at so much trouble to come so far, he 
thought he should like to see the ice, of which he had heard so 
much ; but, as that was only to be reached by another hour's hard 
and dangerous climbing, he thought that he, with Head and Hands, 
had better go on, leaving us to await their return in our cool grotto. 
On hearing this, Tiger, who lay panting at our feet, started up 
with a sniff, and announced his intention to follow his father. 

" O Tiger I " exclaimed his mother ; " I cannot think of allowing 
you to go ; you are already very tired." 

" Mamma, you're too bad. I havn't complained at all. I came 
to see the ice, and I want to see the ice with a decided toss of 
the head. It was natural enough that he should want to go on, 
equally natural that his parents should oppose it ; but I expected 
that the cat would show his claws, and that there would be some 
sore scratching before the point was finally settled. 

" You can't go, Tiger," said his sister, in an aggravating way. 

" I can go ; and I " (He was going to say shall), but catching 
a look from his mother, he turned it into " Can't I go, papa ? I 
want to go so much ? " 

" No, my son, replied his father, firmly but kindly ; you are not 
old or strong enough for such a jaunt. If I had known how hard 
it was, I should not have brought you. If I should let you go on, 
the care of you would incommode me; your absence would occa- 
sion your mother great anxiety ; and, besides, she will not wish to 
be left in this lonely place without any gentleman to protect her ; 
you must stay and take care of her." 

This idea seemed to strike him rather ludicrously, for he turned 
about, with the utmost good nature, saying, " Well, mamma ; I 
am going to stay, and keep the bears from eating you up." Then, 
with a half regret, " Good-by, papa ; be sure and bring me a piece 
of the ice." 

No sooner were they gone, than we heard, far above us, a merry, 
rippling laugh, and looking up, saw the most beautiful form, dressed 
in a robe of silver spray, ornamented with diamond beads. Her 
dress was looped up, here and there, with vines of the emerald 
green bearberry ; and round her head was a garland of the lovely 
linnea, whose twin flowers of delicate rose-color drooped over her 
fair forehead. She was, indeed, a lovely Princess Use ; and she 
came jumping down, as only a water-nymph can, over the steep 
steps of the straight rock-wall, and tripped gaily up to where we sat. 



346 THE STORY OF A ROYAL BENGAL TIGER. [September, 

How glad we all were to see her, especially the Tiger, who was 
very thirsty, and now stood patiently holding his little tin cup, 
which she filled for us each, in succession. Not until we were all 
quite satisfied would he take his long-coveted draught ; and then 
he laid his head in the lap of the little Princess, and while she 
tossed his curly locks in wild disorder, she babbled away merrily 
like an innocent child, and told us in few words, the story of her life. 

THE STORY OF THE LITTLE PRINCESS. 

" I am the daughter of the Ice King," said she ; " and my home 
is away up yonder in the ice-glen. My father has a cold hard 
heart, and the atmosphere of our home is always so stiff and 
formal, that when I was yet very little, I longed to escape from it, 
and to run down into the valleys and play with the happy children, 
whose voices I heard now and then, as they strayed into the edge of 
these dark woods. But when I murmured, and fretted, my father's 
stern form chilled me into silence ; and so I remained always a 
a prisoner, yet ever striving to be free, till one warm summer day, 
when I had got older and stronger, the warm south wind stole 
softly into our cold dark dwelling, and whispered to me of beautiful 
sights and sounds out there in the bright world. Then, I could 
stand it no longer. * I will be free,' I said ; and breaking away 
from my father, who would have held me in his strong grasp, I 
dashed madly down these rocky steeps, fuming and foaming as I 
went. Seething and boiling with rage, I rushed ever faster and 
faster away. Oh ! I was very, very angry, I can tell you ; and I 
beat down everything that stood in my way. It was I who hol- 
lowed out this great hall where you are sitting, and a wild-looking 
place it was that day, but the summer comes every year and decks 
it anew, until it is now, the handsomest vestibule of my father's 
palace. 

" I tore up, in my wrath, the great trees that lay in your path, as 
you came up. I tossed the great stones into heaps. Oh ! I made 
sad havoc, as I streamed away into the broad sunshine : and I was 
so happy and gay when I got there ! I laughed and frolicked, and 
leaped and tumbled, in the noisiest way ; but at last, the miller 
caught me, and said, ' Ho ! little one ; it is not good for young 
folks to lead such a wild, aimless life. You will do much mischief 
if you rove about so, unrestrained All play and no work, 
makes Jack a mere shirk. You must come home with me. I 
will make you a broad bed, and tuck you in nicely, so that you 



I868.J THE STORY OF A ROYAL BENGAL TIGER. 347 

can't tumble out, and there you shall sleep quietly every night ; 
but in the morning, you must get up early, and turn my great wheel, 
so that I can grind flour for the children's bread. And if you turn 
steadily all the morning, in the afternoon, I will open my gate, and 
you may run off to the meadow, and play with the children." 

" Anything was better than going back to my cheerless home ; so 
I agreed to the bargain. And now, I must scamper away, or the 
miller will scold. " 

So, off she ran, singing cheerfully as she went ; and Tiger, who 
now heard his father's voice in the distance, and knew that we 
should soon bend our steps homeward, gave his mother a self- 
satisfied look, which said plainly, " You see, after all, I'm not the 
worst child in the world ; " and ran shouting after her. But she was 
too fast for him, and a few moments later, we overtook him, and all 
walked slowly out of the woods together. 

We were all footsore and hungry. The excitement of the thing 
was over, and nothing to anticipate but a long, tiresome walk. 
There was every excuse for us all to be cross, and complaining. 
Tiger did not seem to think so. He was as cheery and active as 
when he started. He said, once or twice, he "guessed supper 
would taste pretty good ; " but he did not make the way longer and 
heavier by wishing " we could get there," and saying " Oh, dear ! I'm 
so hungry ; I wish I hadn't come," as many another boy would 
have done. He came running to me with the round-leaved orchis 
in his hand, which, in his eagerness to pluck, he had broken ; and 
when I told him it was a rare plant which I had long been wanting, 
you should have seen the enthusiasm with which, tired as he was, 
he raced up and down the forest to find me a perfect specimen. 

Just as the sun was sinking, we emerged from the woods. We 
stopped to drink some milk at the miller's, and there we saw the 
little Princess, in her dark working-dress, turning the great wheel 
for an extra grist. Here, the Tiger confirmed my good opinion of 
his good manners, by refusing to drink till all the rest were helped. 

" Now, the animal will take his food," said he, to me j as his 
father gave him a swimming bowl of milk, which he swallowed 
with a rapidity that showed the keenness of his appetite. 

After this, we had many pleasant excursions together, and 
during the three weeks ensuing on our first acquaintance, I was 
delighted to find him always the nobler animal ; and at the end of 
my pleasant vacation, I was ready to do homage to his Royalty, 
and to crown him King of Boys. COUSIN ALICE. 



348 LITTLE PEARL. [September, 





LITTLE PEARL. 

CHAPTER VI. MULBERRY HILL. 

ITTLE Pearl had passed a restless night. It was 
late in the morning, and she was not yet awake. 
Agnes was setting the little play-table out on the 
piazza, and getting a nice breakfast for her ; Bliss 
was sitting on the ground, making a hole in a heap 
of wet sand ; and Gassy was riding Lenny, the pet 
pony, around the prairie. What a radiant morning 
it was. Sunshine poured down from the sky ; the 
bobolinks and blue-jays sung blithely ; the prairie- 
flowers looked as if they too knew how to be happy ; 
and the tall grass waved in billows like the sea. 
Gassy was heartily enjoying her ride. She had no saddle nor 
bridle, and was sitting astride ; but Lenny was in fine spirits, and 
ran round and round with the swiftness of a bird. " Now, Lenny, 
I'm agoing to shut my eyes," said Gassy ; " and make believe I'm 
flying ; and don't you run into the woods, and bump me up 
against a tree." Lenny didn't run into the woods, but she went 
a long way down the road ; and when Gassy opened her eyes, she 
saw something in the distance, that caused her to jump off of 
Lenny's back, and run with all possible speed to the house. " O 
Agnes ! Agnes ! " she cried, running over Bliss, in her haste, and 
putting him in a passion ; " father's coming. And there is an- 
other carriage behind him, with two gentlemen in it ; and one is 
that Mr. Humphrey, I know it is ; and he's come to 'marry me.' 
Oh, where shall I hide ? Where shall I hide ? " 

" Why, Gassy Marsh ! you little goose ! " But before Agnes 
could say anything more, Gassy ran into the woods, and hid her- 
self. The father came alone, though Gassy did see " another 
carriage behind him." 

" I'm going to Mulberry Hill, today," he said to Agnes ; " and 
one of you may go with me, if you'll get ready quickly." 



1868.] LITTLE PEARL. 349 

" O papa ! May I go ? " said Pearl, who was dressed, and had 
had her breakfast. " I would like to so much ; " and her face 
brightened. 

" Why, it would not do for her to go ; would it, father ? She'd 
get her death of cold, coming home. Can't I go ? " 

" Whoever will get ready first," said the father. " But, Agnes, I 
think you had better let your little sister go. The ride might do 
her good." 

" Pearl, you've nothing fit to wear," said Agnes. " Your clothes 
are all out of fix, and too small for you. It would take as much 
as an hour to get you ready and father is in a hurry. Be good, 
darling, and you shall go next time. Gassy will come and stay 
with you ; you'll not be alone ; and I'll bring you a lot of good 
things when I come back." 

Pearl turned away with a quivering lip. To go to Mulberry 
Hill with her father would have been the only pleasure that she 
could have really enjoyed. But Agnes hurried and dressed, and 
was in the carriage, waiting, before her father had time to give the 
matter a second thought. It was always a great delight to the 
children to go to Mulberry Hill ; for, besides the ride, they had 
some very pleasant little friends there ; and then, it was in every 
way a charming place to visit. Mrs. Pierce, the mother of their 
little friends, had been their mother's most choice friend ; and to 
go there now was almost like going home, for they dearly loved 
their aunty, as they called Mrs. Pierce ; and she was almost as 
fond of them as of her own little ones, and had kept them with her 
a long time after their mother died. 

" Miss Muggins, take good care of the children," said the doctor, 
as he drove away from the door. " Find Gassy, and make her 
stay with them." 

Gassy had just come to the edge of the woods, to take a peep 
toward the house, as Agnes and her father passed. " Why, where 
is the other carriage ? " she said to herself. " I don't believe there 
was another ; and where is Agnes going ? Oh, where is Agnes 
going ? " 

Agnes tried to think that she was very happy, riding with her 
father that pleasant morning, going where she could see the town, 
going to Mulberry Hill. But, down in the depths of her heart, 
there was nothing but pain. Ah ! little Agnes ! other feet have 
turned aside out of the right way, to walk in pleasant paths, and 
found nothing but pain. 



35 LITTLE PEARL. [September, 

It was noon when they arrived at the Hill ; and Agnes was tired 
and warm, and thought that the best part of the ride was going up 
the cool, shady avenue to the house. Mrs. Pierce came to the 
door as the carriage drove up. " My darling child ! How glad I 
am to see you," she said, kissing Agnes over and over again. 
" And who have you there, doctor ? " she exclaimed, pointing to 
the back of the carriage. " Why, surely, that is not Gassy ? It 
can't be Cassy?" 

The doctor turned quickly around, and, greatly to his surprise and 
shame, he did, indeed, find Cassy. There she was, sitting doubled 
up, back of the carriage, her feet hanging down, and covered with 
dust ; her clothes and hat badly torn and soiled ; and her long curls 
blown into stringlets, and quite hiding her sunburnt face. 

" Cassy," said her father, " I shall punish you for this." 

Mrs. Pierce, deeply grieved, led the poor child into the house, 
and took her up into the nursery, and gave her a bath, and had 
her dressed in some of her little girl's clean clothes ; and then, her 
father told Mrs. Pierce to let her go into a room, and remain there 
alone, until he went home. But Mrs. Pierce said that " Cassy had 
sufficiently punished herself. She was very tired and lame, and 
her face was badly burnt ; " and she thought that he had better 
excuse her this time ; and, finally, he said that he would. 

" Cassy Marsh, you ought to have one good whipping for this," 
said Agnes, when she and Cassy were left in the room alone for a 
moment, after Cassy came down into the parlor. 

" I don't care what you say," said Cassy. " I'm here, anyway ; 
and I'll have just as good a time as you do. It was very fine, 
wasn't it, for you to be all dressed up, and ride beside father ? 
but I guess you wouldn't have come if I had been at home, old 
Miss Niceness." 

" You mustn't be so afraid that somebody is coming to marry 
you next time," said Agnes, with a tantalizing laugh. 

" Now, Agnes Marsh, if you go and tell Marly Pierce about that, 
I'll never forgive you, never-! I'll do something to you that you 
won't like so very well." 

Just then, Marly and his two little sisters, Helen and Jessie, 
rushed into the room. " We are just out of the schoolroom," they 
cried. " We knew that you were here ; but Miss Brown wouldn't 
let us come down." 

There was a joyous greeting. Jessie and Cassy were in each 
other's arms in an instant. 



1 868.] 



LITTLE PEARL. 



351 




" Gassy, aren't you going to kiss me ? " said Marly. 

" No, of course not. Girls don't kiss boys," said Gassy j " but 
I'll shake hands with you ; " and she put out her little brown hand 
with such a winning smile, that Marly said, " Well, boys kiss girls," 
and stooped to steal a kiss ; but Gassy gave her head a sudden 
toss, and the thick curls covered her face. 

" Oh, come with me, Gassy. I've got a lot of things to tell you," 
said Jessie. 

" And so I've got a lot of things to tell you," said Gassy, follow- 
ing Jessie into the garden and down into the summer-house. 

" Now, in the first place, do tell me how you ever got here, riding 
back of the carriage," said Jessie. "Why, I should have thought 
that you would have tumbled off every minute." 

" No, I didn't tumble off," said Gassy ; " but I had an awful 
time. Once, we passed some emigrants ; and there were two big, 



352 LITTLE PEARL. [September, 

ugly-looking boys riding on a horse, and when they saw me, they 
began to laugh, holla, and go fast, so as to get up to me ; and 
one of them said, ' Let's catch her, and put her into a meal-bag ; ' 
and then they whipped up the horse, and went just as fast as they 
could ; and I tell you, if I wasn't frightened ! I come pretty near 
screaming out." 

" Oh, dear, dear me ! " exclaimed Jessie. " What, if you had 
happened to have tumbled off just then? Why, I should have been 
frightened out of my senses. But I don't believe that I could do 
such a thing," said Jessie. " I don't know what my mother would 
do to me, if I did." 

" Would she whip you ? " asked Gassy. 

" No ; mother never whips ; but she always shuts us up some- 
where, and makes us stay till we feel pretty bad ; and then comes 
and talks to us, and looks so sorry herself, that it is just as bad. 
I'd rather she would give a good whipping, and done with it." 

" That's the way my mother used to do," said Gassy ; " but 
father whips. Oh, he gave me an awful whipping once. I " 
" Listen," said Jessie. " Isn't Marly calling us ? " 
Yes ; Marly was calling ; and he soon found them in their 
hiding-place. "What are you way down here for?" he said. 
" Come up to the playhouse ; we are agoing to have dinner there, 
all by ourselves, and they are getting it ready now." 

"Oh, won't that be nice?" said Jessie ; "dinner all by ourselves. 
Let's go, quick ! " 

Now, Helen and Jessie had the prettiest playhouse that any 
little girls ever had. It was, really, a little house by itself. It had 
been built for a smokehouse ; but now it was painted, and had 
two windows with green blinds, and set in the garden in the shade 
of four great apple-trees. Inside, it was carpeted, and nicely fur- 
nished, and the walls were hung with charming little pictures ; and 
here the children were to take their dinner. Helen and Agnes 
were already busy setting the table. 

" Jessie, you and Gassy must be company," said Helen, when 
the others came ; " and go, walk in the garden till dinner is ready." 
" What's Marly agoing to be ? " asked Gassy. 
" Oh, Marly is agoing to be Agnes's husband ; and I am agoing 
to be old-maid sister," said Helen. 

" And you and Jessie," said Marly, " are to be the two Miss 
Noodles, from town ; and you must be very nice, proper young 
ladies." 



T868.] MINK CURTISS. 353 

" Well, I shan't," said Gassy, " I don't like nice, proper people ; 
they are afraid to sneeze as loud as they want to." 

" Remember, Helen, that we are agoing to be company after 
dinner, too," said Jessie, with a meaning look ; and she and Cassy 
ran back to the summer-house. 

When dinner was ready, and the children were seated at the 
table, Mr. and Mrs. Pierce and the doctor came to the playhouse- 
door to take a look at them. 

" Why, Agnes, you do not seem quite so merry as the others ; 
what's the matter ? " said Mr. Pierce. 

"Oh, I'm mother," said Agnes ; " I'm being dignified." 

"Oh, that's it." 

But Agnes was not merry, remorse and haunting fears took away 
all the pleasantness of the day, and she was heartily glad when her 
father was ready to go home. 

" My dear," said Mrs. Pierce to her, as the carriage was waiting 
at the door, " I am coming to see you in a few days, tomorrow, 
perhaps, and I shall want to have a long talk with you, such as I 
sometimes have with my own little girls. You have not been 
happy today ; and aunty wants to know all of your little troubles, 
dear. Will you tell aunty everything ? " 

Agnes's heart was full ; tears filled her eyes in an instant. But 
there was no time for words. Her father was calling, and she 
hurried to the carriage. 



MINK CURTISS; OR, LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 

BY AN OLD HUNTER. 

CHAPTER II. 

(Continued from the July Number!) 

[EVER did two happier boys return from wandering; 
and how much they had to tell. What a feast their 
supper was too ; though both declared that the veni- 
son was not half as good as that they had eaten in the 
cabin of the hunter. And, how they teased their father to pur- 
chase them guns ! The very height of their ambition now was to 
be like old Mink Curtiss ! 




354 MINK CURTISS j OR, [September, 

" I remember the man well," said Mr. Martin, when they had 
finished their story. " He is a rough diamond an unlearned but 
honest man, and a skilful hunter." 

" And lives all alone ? " interrupted Frank. 

" Yes," replied his father ; " most of his class do ; they appear 
to love solitude. I will see him in the morning, my boys ; and if 
there is not danger, I have no objections to your going with him." 

Do you think the slumber of the tired boys was dreamless that 
night ? If so, you are mistaken. Rabbits and squirrels, and musk- 
rats and deer, were strangely commingled ; and, standing in the 
very midst of them, was the tall form of Mink Curtiss ! 

The boys needed no calling, and were up very early. The little 
song-birds were not sooner astir. Frank was first out of bed ; 
and, running to the window, looked anxiously at the sky. The sun 
was not yet up ; but there was a luminous gray mist hanging over 
the clearing and woodland, that gave promise of a pleasant day. 

" Come, George ! " he shouted, tugging at his more phlegmatic 
brother. " Come, it's time we were up ; and, as I live, there is 
Mink Curtiss waiting for us ! " 

His words were true. The old man had been there for some 
time, sitting upon a log, waiting their coming. He had his trusty 
rifle in his hand, and a hound lay by his side, looking up, ever and 
anon, into his face, with wistful eyes and a low whine, as if chiding 
him for delay. 

" Mornin', boys," he said, as they issued from the cabin-door, 
laden with the bountifully-filled basket their good mother had 
made ready for them. 

" Good-morning, Mr. Curtiss," replied both, in a breath ; and 
then, Frank continued, " What a splendid dog ! " 

" Wai, he am jest as good as he am han'some," replied the 
pleased old man. " Thar hain't er better dorg in ther hull state, 
and yer'll say so berfore night comes ; won't they, Buck ? " and 
he patted the head of his favorite, as one might have caressed a 
child. 

" He must be splendid, indeed, if he is one-half as good as he is 
handsome. But, does he know as much about deer-hunting as you 
do, Mr. Curtiss ? " 

" ' Han'some is as han'some does,' in all ther matters of this 
world, my boys ; but what Buck don't know erbout huntin' hain't 
worth ther larnin'. Howsomever, thar hain't no use er praisin' even 
er dorg, ontil his work am done ; so, we'd better be ergoin'. It 



1868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 355 

am er splendid mornin' fer huntin' ; goin' ter be cloudy ; and ther 
scent will lie long in ther sloos of ther perarer and ther thickets of 
ther forest. Am yer all ready, boys ? " 

" Aye, ready ! " was responded with a most hearty good-will. 

" Er good thing ter be. Did yer father ever tell yer that it whar 
ther arly bird that catches ther worm ? Wai, thar am truth in 
r ther sayin' ; and though it am what some folks call er humbly one, 
you'll find it applies ter all ther things in life shootin' deer, and 
all. Come, Buck ; you and I orter know whar ther does find the 
browsin' ther sweetest ; " and he whistled to his dog, and was about 
to start, when Mr. Martin issued from the house, and made his 
boys supremely happy by handing to each a gun he had procured 
for them after they had gone to sleep. 

" My sons," he said ; " in this country, more than any other, 
perhaps, in the world, it will be necessary for you to know the use 
of firearms ; and you could have no better instructor than your 
good friend. Mr. Curtiss will instruct you in their use, and take 
care that no harm comes to you. May I not ask this favor of 
you, sir ? " 

"Sartinly, sartinly," replied the pleased old man. "I'll take 
ther best posserble keer on them ; but it am God that watches 
over on us all." 

" That is true ; and one who is ever willing to acknowledge that, 
cannot fail to receive his reward. Good-day, sir. Good-by, my 
boys ; and, remember, to obey your friend in everything." 

The trio started, with the noble dog bounding on before, and the 
old hunter's thoughts found almost audible expression in these 
words : " Ef thar whar more fathers in this world that would put 
more confidence in his boys arter this fashion, thar wouldn't be so 
many that whar continually breakin' through bonds, like unruly 
steers." 

Was he right or wrong ? Children, obey your parents, was a 
primal and a just law one that should be ever heeded. Boys, 
when you think of breaking a parent's commands, remember, that 
he has greater experience than you, and, consequently, far more 
apt to be right, the old hunter, Mink Curtiss, to the contrary 
notwithstanding. 

The clearing was soon passed, and the dense, almost trailless 
forest reached. That done, the old man carefully examined the 
weapons of the boys, loaded them, placed them upon a " run-way," 
that is, where the deer would pass, and gave them his advice. 



356 MINK CURTISS j OR, [September, 

" I'm goin' ter send ther hound off; he knows ther trail, and jest 
as soon as he finds er deer will drive it this ar way. You must 
keep berhind this ar big tree, and when it am er passin', shoot it ; 
and wal, that am erbout all that kin be said. The rest will have 
ter be larned by experience. Don't talk, howsomever ; but keep 
as still as church-mice." 

The boys promised, and took their places under his watchful 
eyes ; and, after a few words addressed to Buck by his master (as 
if he were a reasoning being), they saw the noble hound dash away, 
and remained in almost breathless silence. And not long (fortu- 
nately for their patience) were they kept in suspense ; for, in a few 
moments, they heard the yelping of Buck, ringing as loud as a 
trumpet-call through the grand old woods. 

" Hush ! " whispered the old hunter, standing as firm as the trees 
around ,him, while the boys trembled like the wind-swept branches 
above ; " hush ! Buck has erwakened him from his mornin' nap, 
and he'll soon be crashin' down onter us. Then," he added, with 
a great deal of emphasis, " Don't fergit ter shoot." 

The boys turned their eyes in the direction of the sound, and the 
"run-way" being clear of underbrush, they could see for some 
distance ; and what a sight ! 

With a burst of speed such as nothing else can equal, a noble 
buck was dashing towards them. His head was thrown back \ his 
antlers resting almost upon his shoulders, his nose in the air, his 
eyes flashing with fear, his sides throbbing with the wild beating of 
his heart, and his short tail waving like a white flag, as he cleared 
fully twenty feet at a bound. Ah ! it was a glorious sight, even to 
the old man whose rifle had suddenly put an end to many such a 
race. As for the boys, they stood motionless as statues, almost 
as breathless. 

And on ! on ! came one of the most beautiful of all God's living 
creatures. There was the sharp-fanged dog behind, and three 
death-dealing weapons in front. But he knew nothing of them. 
The sharp yelp of the hound had aroused him from his morning 
nap ; he had sprung up, startled with dread, and dashed away al- 
most with the speed of the wind. There could be no pause for 
rest. 

But the eye of the old man was fixed upon the boys, rather than 
upon the deer, and his lips were parted with a peculiar smile. In 
a moment, the buck was upon them had passed and the 
boys stood, with open mouths and eyes, stupidly gazing after 
him, without having raised a gun ! 



l868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 357 

" Why didn't yer shoot ? " asked the old hunter. 

"I I forgot I had a gun," replied Frank. 

" And I " responded his brother. 

" Wai," said the old man, " yer hain't ther fust ones that has 
forgot ter shoot, by er long shot ; and won't be ther last. But, 
don't take it ter heart. Thar '11 be enother erlong soon, or I don't 
know nothin' of deer or dorg. So, stand firm, and try ter remem- 
ber what yer came her arter. Hark ! Thar comes another. Look 
sharp, now ! " 

All their attention was turned to the swift-coming deer. 

"Bang!" 

"Bang!" 

Both of their guns had gone off at the same instant. 

The twin reports aroused the slumbering echoes of the forest, 
and the boys dropped their guns and sprang forward at the same 
instant, fully satisfied that they had proved themselves great 
hunters. But in this they were very much mistaken. There was 
neither blood nor venison, where they had expected to find both ; 
and they turned, sadly disappointed, to where the old man was 
standing, leaning against a tree. 

" Didn't we hit him ? Didn't we hit him ? " asked both in a 
breath, and trembling with excitement. 

"Ef it had bin er elerphant, or er haystack, or ther side of er 
log cabin, yer mought have done so ; but yer didn't aim cluss enuff 
ter hit onythin' else. Besides, it hain't ther easyest thing in ther 
world fer er green hand ter hit er deer when it am ergoin' past like 
er flash er lightnin'. It requires practice and keer, and er firm 
hand, and er steady and er quick and er true eye. So, don't be 
downhearted, boys ; you'll larn yet." 

" But the deer. We shall riot get another ; and I did so long to 
take father and mother home something I had shot myself," said 
Frank, with tears gathering in his eyes. 

" I know jest how yer feel," replied Curtiss, with a sympathetic 
manner. " I remember, when I whar er boy, and my poor old 
father lay er dying, and my mother was sick too, and ther warn't 
er nabor within twenty miles on us, and nothin' ter eat in ther 
shanty, er takin' ther old man's gun, and ergoin' out, and tryin' ter 
kill er deer. But what, with sorrer and fear, I missed more'n one. 
Ah, me ! It's many the year since then ; and I'd give all ther 
deer and ther bear and ther catermounts I have shot, and ther 
beaver and otter and mink I have trapped, ter stand once more by 
my mother's knee." 



358 MINK CURTISS j OR, [September, 

Poor old man ! He was alone in the world all alone. There 
was no one to welcome him when he returned to his cabin ; no 
one to mourn for his absence ; no one to weep over his grave, if 
indeed, he had one when he was dead ; and his thoughts naturally 
travelled back to the scenes of his childhood ; and he mourned, as 
we all do, who are hastening towards the valley and the shadow 
of death, to be again an innocent little child to stand by our 
mother's knee, and look into her sweet, almost holy face, for ad- 
vice and tenderness. 

" Yer kinnot understand this," he continued, drawing his hard, 
brown hand over his eyes, to wipe away the big tears that had 
gathered there ; " yer kinnot understand this, boys ; but ther time 
will come, ef yer live ter ony great length, when yer will. How- 
somever, I shan't belong, now, before I see my old mother." 

" She is living, then ? " asked Frank, gulping down a sob, forget- 
ful at the instant of all else in the world, save the sorrows of Mink 
Curtiss. 

" Yes," he replied, sorrowfully, and pointing at the same time 
upwards : "yes j she is living there." 

There was silence for a time, and then, he suddenly resumed, 
but with an entire change of voice and manner ; for men leading 
the life he had, have but little time to waste in useless regrets. 
There lives are full of action. They may be called even from the 
burial of one they love, to protect themselves and their property 
from the Indians ; may be awakened at midnight by the ringing 
war-whoop ; may have their dreams dispelled by the house burn- 
ing over their heads. So it had been with Mink Curtiss ; and it 
had become second nature with him to command his feelings, or 
at least, disguise them. 

" But, boys," he continued ; " you've missed ther deer, and er 
fine four-point buck he whar, and I am sorry fer it. I almost 
wish I had shot myself. I think I m ought have made him drop 
his white flag." 

"What do you mean ? A deer with a flag a white flag ? That 
is a signal of distress. At least, I think my sailor uncle so used 
to call it ; " and Frank, forgetful of his recent sorrow, laughed 
heartily. 

The old hunter was not wise enough in the ways of the ocean to 
correct the mistake he had made, and answered, in perfect good 
faith, " So it am er signal of distress. Yer mought have noticed 
that ther tail of er deer am white ; that's what we call ther flag. 



l868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 359 

Now, when he am er runnin', full of life and anermile sperrits, he 
carries it high up ; but jest as soon as he is hunted by er shot, he 
drops it. That's what we call lowerin' his flag ; and yer may well 
say that it am er signal of distress. But that's nuther here nor 
thar, now. You want ter take hum some venerson ; and we kin do 
it, though we'll have ter travel er pooty long distance." 

" Can we not find the same deer again ? " 

" Not er bit on it. Many's ther miles he's erway now ; and 
more'n likely, with ther does and ther fawns, er tellin' them what er 
run he had, and how two boys pointed somethin' at him, and made 
er noise like thunder ; and how something rattled erway erbove 
his head like hail through the thick branches." 

" Then we shot above his head ? " asked George, whose chagrin 
had hitherto kept him silent. 

" Sartinly. Yer hain't used ter yer guns j and it mought be that 
they go off hard, and when yer pulled ther trigger, it threw ther 
muzzle up in ther air, and it seemed as ef yer whar er taking aim 
at ther moon ; " and the old man indulged in one of his silent 
laughs. 

" I will remember that, thank you, sir, when I have an opportu- 
nity to shoot again." 

" Thank you, sir ! " The old hunter looked with wide-eyed as- 
tonishment upon the manly little fellow who answered him thus. 
Politeness was the exception, rather than the rule, in the vicinity 
where his cabin stood ; and it did more towards riveting his friend- 
ship for the boy than any other one act could have done. Ah ! 
if all the young readers (and the old ones too) of the MUSEUM 
would but practice politeness at all times, and the more especially 
towards the aged, how much more smoothly life would pass. 

" Yer mind me," said the old man, with a smile of pleasure 
lighting the wrinkles of his face, " yer mind me of er leetle thing 
my mother taught me, that I hain't thought of fer many er year. 
She made me larn it, and I hain't fergit it yet. It am this : 

" * Perliteness is ter do and say 

Ther kindest thing in ther kindest way.' 

Always remember that, my boy, even with those of yer own age, 
and yer won't find many sticks or stones in yer trail of life. But 
we am er wastin' time. Let me see ef yer know how ter load yer 
guns. Be keerful erbout ther powder ; fer though it am er good 
friend ter man, it am er most mighty bad enermy, I kin tell yer." 



360 MILESTONES OP ENGLISH HISTORY. [September, 

The old man watched them very carefully during the process of 
recharging their guns, giving them, now and then, minute direc- 
tions ; and when they had finished, he whistled to the dog, that 
had lain for some time panting by his side, and intently watching 
him with his great earnest eyes. " Yer think," he asked, " that 
yer good fer er long tramp, and er hard one too ; do yer ? " 

" Yes," was the response of both, who were eager to have an 
opportunity to try their skill again. " Yes ; we are certain that we 
can walk as fast and as far as you can." 

" Young blood ! Young blood ! " laughed the old man. " But, 
although I don't mean to tire yer onnecessary, yet, yer'll find out 
berfore night that yer hain't no match fer these ar old bones and 
sinners." 

" He is calling himself an old sinner," whispered Frank to his 
brother, not understanding that the word was a corruption of 
" sinew ; " " and I think he is a mighty good man ; don't you ? " 

" Yes," was the reply, also in a whisper j " but don't talk, Frank. 
Let's listen to him. I wonder what he is stopping for now ? " 




MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 

V. ENGLAND, UNDER THE NORMAN KINGS, THE FEUDAL SYSTEM, 
THE DAYS OF CHIVALRY, AND THE HOLY WARS. 

JN the red field of Hastings, Battle Abbey was built, and 
holy monks settled there to pray for the souls of all 
that were slain ; and now, the luckless Saxons began 
to feel the weight of the Conqueror's strong arm, in the 
introduction into England of the feudal system, which, for a long 
time, had been in operation in other countries. By this system, 
no man could possess property, except by gift from the king, who, 
reserving the lion's share for himself, parcelled out the land in 
fiefs to his nobles. Each noble did homage for the gift by kneel- 
ing, uncovered, before his majesty, saluting him as his master, and 
swearing from that day to be his liegeman. So, the nobles and 
princes became what were called vassals of the king ; and were 
obliged to obey his summons in time of peace, and to supply him 



1 868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 361 

with arms, men, and money, to carry on war, according to the 
quantity of land they had received. The vassals, in their turn, 
divided their fiefs into estates, and gave them to those knights 
whose society they desired in peace, and whose service in war 
they wished to control ; the knights bestowed smaller territory 
upon tine franklins, a lower order; and so, the distribution was con- 
tinued through all ranks, till it came to the peasants and laborers, 
who were called serfs, or villains, and were really slaves, being 
bought and sold like beasts, with the farms they tilled. In fact, 
the feudal system was a military despotism, in which there was no 
law but that of the strongest ; and its motto of justice was, "Might 
makes right." Thus, it often happened, that one of these great 
crown vassals became more powerful than his sovereign lord ; and 
so it had been with all the dukes of Normandy, who had behaved 
very haughtily to the French monarch ; so that, when William 
came to conquer England, he did it in his own right, and without 
asking consent of his liege lord, the king. Having made himself 
king of England, he set about rewarding his followers, in true 
feudal fashion, with the fertile lands of the English, reducing the 
rightful owners to the condition of serfs ; indeed, it is said, 
there is scarcely a noble family in England today, that can trace 
its descent from the Saxons before the Conquest. It provokes a 
smile, when an Englishman, nowadays, boasts of his ancestry, that 
they " came in with the Conqueror." Doubtless, there were some 
of noble birth, like " William de Conigsby " of the old rhyme, 

who 

" Came out of Brittany, 
With his wife Tifany, 
And his maid Manpas, 
And his dogge Hardigras." 

But William's army was a perfect rabble of nameless adventurers ; 
and many a stout Flemish weaver and heavy Norman drover, 
whose hands had known no weapon save the shuttle or the goad, 
who had seized the dark bow, and donned the quilted frock, to 
follow his lord as a foot-soldier, found himself at last on horseback, 
" girded with the knightly baldric," and rode rough-shod over the 
" Saxon dog," as he soon learned to call his unhappy thrall, often 
of nobler blood than himself. Troublous times these for the 
Saxon. The Norman lion was everywhere rampant, and " blood 
was shed at random, and the bread was torn from the mouths of 
the wretched people." One thing only, they never yielded to the 



3^2 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [September, 

brutality of the Conqueror. This was their native tongue ; and the 
Saxon, modified only by Norman French, and a few other foreign 
elements since added, forms the groundwork of the English spoken 
by you and me today. So, when William made a register of all the 
lands for distribution, his courtiers called it Lt Role Roy ale ; but the 
Saxons, with sad significance, the " Dom-boc," for they knew it was 
a book of doom to them, and as the " Doomsday-Book," it has come 
down in history. The worst deed of this ruthless king, who, in the 
quaint words of the chronicle, " loved the tall deer, as if he had 
been their father," was the laying waste, by fire and sword, of a 
vast tract of country, to make himself a hunting-park, called the 
New Forest. After this wanton act, which brought starvation on 
" one hundred thousand souls, of both sexes and all ages," Wil- 
liam, fearing the people would get together at night, to talk over 
their grievances, ordered them. to put out their lights and cover up 
their fires on the tolling of a bell, called, from that circumstance, 
the curfew. He was of giant stature and unusual strength. His 
laugh was something between a snarl and a growl, and he liked 
to frighten people with his horrid oaths. " By the resurrection of 
God ! " cried he, one day ; " that little Robin Shortboot will be a 
clever fellow," alluding to his oldest son, whom he nicknamed 
Courthose, on account of his short legs. William loved his queen ; 
but they disagreed about the management of Robert, who wanted 
Normandy during his father's lifetime. Robert was really more 
noble and generous than his brothers, William the Red-head, and 
Harry the Fine Scholar, who played him a great many mean tricks, 
and were far from being a comfort to their parents. Richard, their 
second son, a promising boy, died of a fever brought on by malaria 
in the New Forest, where he hunted. 

When the great duke sailed on his voyage of conquest in a ship 
whose prow bore the image of his darling boy, in the act of aiming 
an arrow at England, he little thought that arrow was to pierce his 
own soul in the undutiful conduct of his son. In the twenty-first 
year of his reign, waging war against the King of France, who had 
been incited against him by Robert, he received a mortal hurt. 
When he found that he must die, he shook and wept for very fear ; 
but, at length becoming calmer, he confirmed the gift of Normandy 
to Robert, gave England to William, and to Henry, only a scholar's 
portion of five thousand pounds of silver that had belonged to his 
mother. Red William, waiting only to learn his own portion, gal- 
loped with indecent haste from his father's death-bed, to secure his 



l868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 363 

kingdom. Henry, sullen and disappointed, soon followed ; and 
the body of the dead king, deserted by his children, abandoned 
by his nobles, and plundered of its rich apparel by his servants, lay 
naked on the floor, till a country gentleman carried it in pity to 
the Abbey of St. Stephen's, for burial. Scarcely had the monks 
begun to chant the service for the dead, when, at an alarm of fire, 
they all scampered away ; but a few reluctantly returning, the 
solemn farce was hurriedly completed. It seemed, however, as if 
the despoiler of lands was not to be granted even six feet of earth 
for his grave ; for, as the coffin was about to be lowered, a Saxon 
angrily claimed the spot as the former homestead of his father, 
and it was not till Henry, who had by this time appeared, paid the 
challenger one hundred pounds of silver, that the ashes of William 
the Conqueror could rest in peace. William Rufus then became 
king of England, and, perhaps because he was not quite sure of 
his title, ruled with more moderation than his father. He was 
very fond of fine clothes. Pulling on his boots one day, he asked 
his chamberlain what they cost. 

" Three shillings," replied the man. 

" How long," cried the purse-proud Rufus, " has the king worn 
boots of so paltry a price ? Go, and bring me a pair worth a 
mark of silver." 

The valet returned with a much cheaper pair, and assured the 
vain monarch that they had cost more than a mark of silver. 

" So, so," said William ; " these are better suited to majesty." 

In such silly ways his extravagance made him the prey of un- 
principled men. He quarrelled with Robert for the possession of 
Normandy ; and, at last, took it in pawn from the latter, who 
wanted money for his outfit to the holy wars. The very day on 
which he meant to take possession of his new lands, he planned a 
great hunt in the New Forest. As he mounted his horse, a man 
handed him some new arrows. " Sharp arrows for the best shot," 
said William, gayly, as he passed them to his friend Sir Walter 
Tyrrell ; and together they rode to the chase. At sunset, the king 
aiming at a fine stag, his bowstring snapped. His friend hesitated 
to interfere. 

" Shoot, in the devil's name ! " cried Rufus. 

Tyrrell shot the arrow glanced the king fell, dying. Fine 
Scholar, riding at his side, put spurs to his horse, and rode off to 
secure the royal treasure. (Such was the love the Conqueror's 
family ever showed each other.) When William Rufiis forsook the 



364 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [September, 

death-bed of his doting father, he could not foresee that the mossy 
turf of the forest should be the regal couch, its drapery the purple 
and golden clouds of an autumn sunset, where, thirteen years later, 
alone, unwept, and unshriven, he should breathe his last. Let us 
hope, that, as his life ebbed slowly away upon the green sward of 
the. New Forest, fatal spot to so many of his race, and he 
heard the distant voices of his barons rendering homage to his 
successor, he reflected upon the instability of all earthly kingdoms, 
and repented that his deeds had not been such as to assure him of 
an immortal crown. Some charcoal-burners passing, tossed his 
body upon their cart, and it was buried, next day, at Winchester ; 
" but his tomb," says the chronicler, " was watered by no man's 
tears." 

" Of what use is silver," Henry had petulantly asked his dying 
father, " to a man who has not a roof to shelter him ? " " Be 
patient, my son," the Conqueror had replied : " thy time will come." 
So, by the death of his brother, came Henry's time to reign. 
Always deceitful and politic, he tried to court the favor of his 
English subjects by marrying Edith of Scotland, great-grand- 
daughter of Ironside Edmund ; but, to please his French courtiers, 
he changed her name to Maud or Matilda. Where was Robert, 
meantime, who would have made a better king than either of his 
brothers ? He had won high renown in the First Crusade ; but 
dawdled in Italy on his return, and so, lost the succession, lost 
Normandy too, by his indolence, finally, lost everything but his 
miserable life, and was shut up in prison by Henry, and kept there 
till he died. Retribution came to Henry Beauclerc, in the death 
by drowning of His only son, after which, he was never seen to 
smile. He died in the thirty-fifth year of his reign, a victim to his 
gluttony. 

These were the famous days of chivalry. The little folks then 
had no pleasant primary schools and beautifully-printed books. 
There was no High or Latin School for the cramming of dull boys 
with mathematics and Greek ; no careless, happy, college-life for 
the stripling. But, in those days, the lad of seven was made a 
page in the castle of his father, or some neighboring lord, and his 
first lesson was one of perfect obedience and courtesy to his mas- 
ter (which makes us almost long for the days of chivalry to come 
again). He was taught to run and ride, to swim and shoot ; and 
from the ladies of the castle, he learned poetry, music, and re- 
ligious precepts. At fourteen, he received his sword from the 



1 868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLfSH HISTORY. 355 

priest at the altar, and thus promoted to an esquire, the severity of 
his duties increased. The most difficult gymnastic exercises were 
taught him ; he carried the banner of his lord in battle, and per- 
formed for him the most menial services. At the age of twenty- 
one, the young esquire prepared himself, by fasting and prayer, for 
his admission to knighthood. From the bath, where he was sup- 
posed to be cleansed from sin, he was led to a bed, the emblem of 
eternal rest ; and the next night, clad in a crimson robe, a white 
tunic, and a surcoat of black, by which were signified the blood 
he was to shed as a true knight in the cause of Christ, his own 
purity, and the death that awaits all, he was conducted to a church 
to keep his solemn vigil of arms. Alone, in prayer, he passed 
the still watches of the night ; and, at dawn, having been rigidly 
examined, he received the sacrament, and swore to be a loyal 
knight, to defend the church, to protect the ladies, to succor the 
oppressed, and to avenge all wrong. While yet upon his knees, 
he received from the ladies his armor and spurs, and then 
rose up a knight, eager to distinguish himself in his new career. 
Adorned with the colors of his lady-love, boldly he rode forth " to 
proclaim her peerless worth." Let a careless jester but utter a 
doubt of her beauty, the good lance of the knight laid him low in 
the dust. No adventure was too perilous or too romantic to be 
undertaken for God and his mistress. 

In the latter part of the eleventh century, Mohammedanism 
reigned supreme in the East. Even in the holy city of Jerusalem, 
the crescent had displaced the cross, and Christian pilgrims at the 
tomb of our Lord were cruelly treated by the Turks. Peter the 
Hermit, a French monk, who had seen their sufferings, resolved to 
arouse the chivalry of Europe to go to the rescue of the holy 
sepulchre. Barefoot, and in rags, he went up and down the land, 
telling the tragic tale with such pathos, that the people caught his 
enthusiasm, and followed him in great numbers. Meantime, Pope 
Urban took up the cause, and made a powerful speech, urging all 
men to enlist. So, in the spring of 1096, went out the advance of 
the First Crusade, hundreds of thousands of men, women, and 
children, each wearing on the shoulder the red-cloth cross, a 
vast mob, shouting and singing as they went, led by Peter and 
Walter the Penniless. The excitement was intense. The peasant 
shod his oxen like horses, piled his family into a cart, and joined 
the mighty host ; and you might hear his children ask, at every 
large town they passed, if that were Jerusalem. Hundreds per- 



366 MILESTONES, OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [September, 

ished on the march, thousands more were cut to pieces by the 
Turks, before they saw the sacred city ; a few only escaped, and 
returned long after. But when, a little later, the pomp and power 
of chivalry went forth, it was a glorious sight indeed. Noblest, 
wisest, bravest of all, there was Godfrey of Bouillon, whose ances- 
tor was Charlemagne ; and there was Hugh, the great Count of 
Vermandois, a haughty prince indeed ; and Rooert of Normandy, 
rash, but merciful withal ; and Raymond of Toulouse, the vindic- 
tive fanatic ; and Boemund, the dark Italian, cool and crafty ; and 
Tancred, his gallant young cousin, frank, courteous, and gentlest 
of all generous knights, and with them a splendid array of lords 
and gentlemen. 

Three years after, on a scorching July day, a remnant of this 
brilliant army, plague-stricken and fainting, thinned and wasted by 
thirst and famine, broken and torn by fever and fighting, reached 
the strong walls of Jerusalem, and fell upon their knees before the 
gates, and wept and kissed the sacred ground. But the knightly 
spirit was still strong within them, and after a terrible siege, they 
rallied for a last assault, and Godfrey and Tancred, equal in 
courage, leaped into the town, followed by their soldiers. The 
carnage was fearful. Chanting pious hymns, and slaying as they 
sang, wading up to their horses' knees in the blood of the Infidels, 
these gory warriors threw aside at last their reeking swords, and 
prostrated themselves in penitence at the tomb of the Prince of 
Peace. 

The patriarchs and Christians of the city, recognizing Peter the 
Hermit among their deliverers, fell upon his neck rejoicing, and 
heaped upon him and his associates their hoards of corn and oil, 
and silver and gold. 

When they had purified themselves from the stains of battle on 
Mount Calvary, the nobles elected Godfrey king of Jerusalem ; 
but, with rare humility, he said that it did not become him to 
assume a crown of gold, where his Lord had been mocked with a 
crown of thorns ; and so, leaving him with the honorable title of 
" Defender of the Tomb of Christ," the weary Crusaders gladly 
turned their faces westward. COUSIN ALICE. 



i868.] 



WRITING TO PAPA. 





WRITING TO PAPA. 

MIE wants to write to her papa : 

FIRST, To tell papa to send a long letter 

every day to mamma. 
SECOND, To tell papa not to forget to bring 

some pretty things to Mamie. 



But, instead of using a lead-pencil to write with, as her 
mamma told her she must, Miss Mamie would write with 
a pen ; and she puts it so far into the inkstand, that she 
has made her hands and face as black as a little chimney- 
sweep's ! 

What will mamma say to that? 



t 



368 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 



[September, 



JSUE'S 




CHINESE NAMES FOR THE STARS 
AND STRIPES, AND THE YANKEE 
NATION. A writer in the Boston 
Courier is responsible for the fol- 
lowing statements : The language 
is mainly our own, for the sake of 
shortness. When the " Stars and 
Stripes " first appeared in Canton, 
the news was soon circulated among 
the Chinamen that " a ship had 
come from the other end of the 
world, with a flag as beautiful as a 
flower ; ' and our ships are called, 
to this day, " flag flower ships," and 
Americans, " flower flag country- 
men." Now, the remarkable thing 
about this designation, is, that the 
two Chinese characters, Van kee 
(Yankee) signify the "flag of the 
ocean." But this is not all. The 
Chinese have no D in their lan- 
guage ; and with their alphabet, 
" Yankee Doodle " would be writ- 
ten Yan-kee-too-te-le, which signi- 
fies " flag of the ocean sovereign 
people of the world." The name 
of WASHINGTON, too, is happily 
spelled in Chinese, as it thus be- 
comes Woo-shing-tung, which sig- 
nifies "Rescue at last." In this 
way too, the name of our late minis- 
ter to China, Mr. GUSHING, became 
Cu-shing) meaning " ancient glory j" 
which, as John Chinaman sets great 
value on high-sounding names, gave 
him unusual prestige and influence 
among the Celestials. We have not 
verified these alleged facts by look- 



ing them up in a Chinese dictionary, 
but this new proof of the name of 
" universal Yankee " being honestly 
come by, is, to say the least, worthy 
of the genius and patriotism of a 
BOSTING MAN. If what he says is 
not true, it ought to be. If it is a 
hoax, it oiight not to be. 

THE EAGLE. Uncle Sam had 
goodly company when he chose the 
Eagle for the national emblem. It 
was first borne as a standard by the 
Persians. The Roman ensigns were 
Eagles in silver and gold, sometimes 
having thunderbolts in their talons. 
The Emperor Charlemagne adopted 
an Eagle with two heads, A. D. 802, 
when he became master of Germany, 
to signify that the two empires of 
Rome and Germany were united in 
him. The Eagle was the Imperial 
standard of Napoleon I., as it is 
now of Napoleon III. ; and also of 
Russia, Austria, and Prussia. The 
White Eagle and the Black Eagle 
are likewise the names of orders of 
knighthood in Poland and Prussia. 

STRAIGHT lies, with neither break 

nor swerve, 

The sharp-drawn line of DUTY ; 
Soft flows, with many a waving 

curve, 

The lovely line of BEAUTY. 
Follow the first inflexible, and ever 

thou wilt see 

The second's fairest arabesques 
run side by side with thee. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



369 




*> 



answers all the July enigmas, and 
wins his second prize. 

QUESTIONS, ENIGMAS, CHARADES, 
ETC. 

240. I am composed of 26 letters : 
My i, 15, 3, is part of the 

human frame. 

My 1 6, 15, 5, 24, 4, 8, is pos- 
sessed by most animals. 
My 2, 22, 19, is a pronoun. 
My 20, 22, 14, 12, is a boy's 

nickname. 
My 13, 15, 26, 23, is a kind 

of grain. 

My 10, 2, 15, 7, 1 8, is to move. 
My 24, 25, 15, 21, 24, 3, is a 

boy's name. 
My 17, ii, 6, 9, is sometimes 

spoken of as an ornament. 
My whole is a very useful 

household article. 

Clara A. H. 



. I am composed of 12 letters : 
My 7, 11, 12, 6, is an earthen 

receptacle. 

My 2, 3, i, 6, 4, is a fish. 
My 7, 8, 10, 9, 5, 6, is part of 

a gun. 
My whole is a vehicle. 

Benny T. 

. I am composed of 16 letters : 
M 7 3, 10, ii, 15, is the name 

of a river in the United 

States. 
My 14, ii, 13, 6, 4, is the 

name of an animal. 
My 7, 4, 2, 12, is the name 

of a bird. 

My 9, 1 6, 8, i, is a knob. 
My i, ii, 5 is a vehicle. 
My whole is the name of a 

celebrated general. 

Wild Rose. 

Fill the following blanks with 
the same words transposed : 

243. If her hair, she will 

her bonnet. Fred. 

244. The took refuge in a 

(six letters). J. K. 

245. The gave a loaf, which 

she , and a cup of . 

Violet Forest. 

246. If a had , would you 

with him. Ixia. 



247. The 



lamb followed the 

C* T T.~tr Vfr 



248. How many will you 

me ? Fritzcken. 



370 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[September, 



NAMES OF FLOWERS ENIGMATI- 
CALLY EXPRESSED. 

249. A bird of dark plumage, and 

half of a habit. 

250. A bauble for tyrants, but free- 

dom shall nab it. 

251. A handsome young fellow in 

love with himself. 

252. Affection sore wounded and 

laid on the shelf. 

253. Behead what you will find in 

almost every house, trans- 
pose, and leave what you will 
often hear. Cousin May. 

254. Entire, I belong to the tree or 

the water ; behead me, and I 
am what every one should 
do ; again behead, and I am a 
fish ; again, and I am an af- 
firmation ; again, and I am an 
interrogation. Guilielmus. 

255. Entire, I am vegetable ; be- 

headed, I denote ardor ; be- 
headed again, I am a verb ; 
again, and I am a preposi- 
tion ; again, and I equal x, y. 
franc. 

256. I am a word of six letters. In 

me may be found (i) an ani- 
mal, (2) an article of food, 
(3) to tear, (4) to rend, (5) a 
sailor, (6) a ceremony, (7) sci- 
ence, (8) mature, (9) to glean, 
(10) a fruit, (n) part of a 
wagon, (12) a weed, (13) equal 
value, (14) degree, (15) to hit, 
(16) to babble, (17) a brace, 
and (18) part of the body. 

Wolverine. 

WHAT CITIES MEAN WHEN 
TRANSPOSED. 

257. An article of food. 

258. A drudge. 

259. To extirpate. 

260. A command. 

261. A boy's nickname. C. F. W. 



WORDS ENIGMATICALLY EX- 
PRESSED. 

262. Approach love fed. Auntie. 

263. Ill-natured lover. Tempy. 

264. Hook fifty. Hero. 

265. A high vowel. A. R. T. 

266. Fight an insect. Wolverine. 

267. Enter tardy Susan. Gilbert. 

268. Ail 500010. Alice Tipton. 

269. looono. Bittersweet. 
270. 

ffSL^s* 




Aunt Sue. 

'&*A nsiuers must reach me before 
the $th of October. Those received 
later will not be credited. 

Tjgjr 1 Send all communications in- 
tended for the PUZZLE DRAWER to 
"Aunt Sue," Box in, P. O., Brook- 
lyn, N. Y. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



371 



ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN JULY 
NUMBER. 

183. The United States of America 

184. Timothy Titcomb. 

185. Emigration. 

1 86. Escargatoire. 

187. Sedulousness. 

1 88. Incomprehensibility. 

189. Seraglio ("girasole" added). 

190. Taciturnity. 

191. Outer route. 

192. German, manger ("reward 

drawer" credited. The an- 
swer to 244, present No., is 
still different). 

193. Felt, left. 

194. Earl, Lear. 

195. Caravan. 

196. Coin, loin, join, foin. 

197. Burnside. 

198. Sheridan. 

199. Karney. 

200. Grant. 

201. Mail, acre, iron, lend. 

202. Pear. 

203. Support. 

204. Mountebank. 

205. Recollect (" reassemble " cred- 

ited). 

206. Attenuate. 

207. Breath. 

208. Clove. 

209. Songs. 

210. Continue the Constitution and 

Flag of our Union inviolate. 



Of the above Puzzles, 
F. R. S. answers all. 
Max answers all but 194. 
Belle answers all but 195. 
Keystone answers all but 191, 194. 
Florian answers all but 191, 201. 
Joe Kose answers all but 191, 207. 

Robbie Eddowes answers all but 194, 

207. 

Bertha answers all but 186, 192, 207. 

Florence answers all but 186, 191, 
194. 

Hero answers all but 186, 189, 191 
194. 

Chester answers all but 186, 194, 
199, 207. 

Ypsi answers all but 191, 195, 207, 
208. 

C. IV. J. answers all but 186, 191, 

196, 203, 204. 

Cicero answers all but 191, 192, 194, 
195, 196, 207, 208. 

Carrie A. Leonard answers all but 
192, 194, 196, 201, 203, 204, 
205, 207, 208, 209. 

Willie Mack answers all but 186, 
187, 195, 196, 198, 201, 203, 
205, 206, 207, 208. 

Eddie answers 183, 184, 193, 196, 

197, 198, 199, 200, 202, 204, 
205, 206, 209, 210. 

Cad answers 184, 197, 199, 200, 202, 
206. 

NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 

Hero. If you really " must " know, 
I will tell you. The " Uncles " you 
mention have now no connection 
with the Museum; "they have left 
us." It is the same Willy Wisp. 
'. did design the rebus in "Our 
V r oung Folks " to which you refer. 



372 



AUNT SUES PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[September, 



Carter. I am very glad to "class " 
you among my correspondents, and 
wish they all wrote as much to the 
point as you write. 

.5*. L. D. Much obliged to you for 
taking the trouble to draw and send 
that labyrinth ; but what would the 
Cousins think, if we published such 
a crazy-looking thing ! It resem- 
bles a town, with 8,000 population, 
struck by lightning, population 
and all. 

F. R.-S. I congratulate you on 
winning the prize, because you have 
sent your answers so faithfully every 
month. Is your address the same 
as it was in May, '67 ? 

Gilbert. Did you receive your 
prize ? 

Coy. I have not seen your " Un- 
cle Robert" in 1868. The present 
" Uncle Robert " I have never seen. 
Thank you. 

Eddie. It would save me some 
trouble, if you would write your an- 
swers in one column, on each side of 
your page, rather than crowd them 
in together on one page, so that it 
is difficult for me to sort them out. 

Bob. You are as "welcome" as 
the flowers in May, or as ice-cream 
in September. Our Merry Class is 
like our city cars, never so full, but 
that we can take in one more. 

E. B. You have taken so much 
pains with your enigma, that if you 
will send me your address, I will 
return it to you. An enigma " com- 
posed of sixty letters " is rather for- 
midable ; I think twenty-five should 
be the outside limit. 

E. W. W. I have a book of 
monograms, but I only care to col- 
lect those of my personal corres- 
pondents. I am about to make a 
collection of the signatures of all 
my friends, including the Merrvs. 



I only wish I had begun it ten years 
ago. 

H. M. The present French Em- 
peror is called Napoleon III., be- 
cause when Napoleon I. abdicated 
his throne and retired to Elba, his 
son was entitled to the title of 
Napoleon II., although he never 
reached the throne. Victor Eman- 
uel is the son of Charles Albert, 
King of Sardinia, who abdicated, 
in 1849, in favor of his son. 

Hugh Howard. Your last rebus 
is a great improvement ; the only 
fault now is, that it is too easy. 
The other is in the hands of the 
engraver. 

Joe Kose. You needn't brag 
about your mosquitoes. We have 
that kind in Brooklyn about which 
history tells ; many of them weigh 
a pound, and some get on the trees 
and bark. 

Albert says, " If a toad has to 
climb up a well twenty feet high, 
and he climbs up eight feet every 
day, and falls back four feet every 
night, doesn't it take him five 
days ? " No, dear. On the morn- 
ing of the fourth day, he is twelve 
feet from the bottom ; isn't he ? 
Then, he climbs up the remaining 
eight feet that day, and hops off, 
without waiting for the night to set 
him back four feet. Those prob- 
lems are mere catches. 

Kitty CarrolPs account of the 
late wedding in Bloomsbury Square 
was very interesting, though a trifle 
flowery. I hope she will send us 
another communication. 

A list of 23 correct answers re- 
ceived without signature, post- 
marked " Bridgewater, Mass." 

Thanks for enigmas, etc., to C. 
W. J., Eddie, Hugh Howard, Car- 
ter, Ypsi, Cad, Hero, Keystone, 
F. R. S., Max, and Belle. 



i868.] MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 



373 




WE sincerely wish that we could 
imprison in this column some of 
the fresh sea-breezes that are sing- 
ing by as we write, and convey 
them to city readers, thereby mak- 
ing our Chat both lively and wel- 
come. They would tell of the fleet of 
fishing-boats, flying down the har- 
bor like white-winged birds ; of the 
lighthouses, who seem to have 
closed the bright eyes that all night 
watched the coast ; of the rocky 
islands, where the surf breaks white 
and foaming ; of the gulls, dipping 
and screaming over the bay ; the 
merry children, frolicking like little 
cupids on the beach ; the cheerful 
parties going to and fro, intent on 
making the most of their summer 
holiday ; and last and least, the 

fossiping winds would mention the 
rown-faced person, who, perched 
on a rock, sniffs the sea-breeze, and 
wishes every o-ne else was enjoying 
the same delights. 

COUSIN TRIBULATION, who is evi- 
dently " on the rampage," sends an 
account of her last experience, in 
answer to our suggestion. If others 
would do the same, we should be 



obliged to them, and so would 
j our readers. 

I Camfi Gamp. 

DEAR MERRY'S, Have any of 
you tried camping out ? If not, you 
have lost a great pleasure; and I 
advise you to make a point of doing 
so next summer. Here is a sketch 
of some of the fun which such frolics 
produce : 

A party of seventeen jovial young 
persons, with the most motherly of 
matrons to chaperone the lasses, 
pitched their tents on the shore of 

Lake Q , and spent last week 

there, enjoying sylvan adventures, 
perils, pleasures, and housekeeping, 
to their hearts' content. 

The big tent was devoted to the 
seven ladies ; one of the smaller 
ones to the men ; the other was the 
storeroom ; and a little one shel- 
tered Bob, our colored servant. 
Bob had been a sailor, and pos- 
sessed the happy art of turning his 
hand to anything ; so, he was made 
chief cook and bottle-washer, and 
earned golden opinions from us all. 

Our tent stood on a little knoll ; 
the others near the water's edge; 
and, on the smooth turf, sloping to 
the lake, 'we spread our meals, or 
ourselves, in the shade of the chest- 



374 MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. [September, 



nut-trees, lounging luxuriously, with 
the blue lake shimmering before us, 
dotted with islands, or dimpled by 
the passage of many boats. 

I don't think seventeen jollier 
young persons ever got together; 
for we had been acting plays the 
week before, and the pleasing 
consciousness of having earned a 
handsome sum for the Freedmen, 
put us all in the gayest spirits. 

All day, we boated, gossiped, 
read, ate, sung, and laughed, as if 
there were no such things as busi- 
ness or care in the world. Bob 
got up sumptuous meals ; and we 
revelled in chops, pancakes, soup, 
fish, flapjacks, and chowder, as few 
picnicers do. Nobody minded ants 
in the tea, spiders on the pie, or 
confiding little caterpillars prome- 
nading over food and feasters pro- 
miscuously. 

In the evenings, we floated about 
over the moonlit lake, enjoying the 
music of our band, who sang like 
a flock of nightingales, delighting 
us, and startling the wood-gods by 
wild choruses in unknown tongues. 

I'm afraid the Q mermaids were 

scandalized by " Lanegan's Ball," 
" Kafoosleum," and the pathetic 
ballad of " Hamlet," as sung by our 
opera troupe, who woke the echoes 
with the classic refrain, 

" Too ra loo ra lay, 

Ri fol too ral tweedle ; 
Tweedle lac I fol, 
Rumsty doodle deedle." 

Our nights were varied by skir- 
mishes with " skeets," who invaded 
the camp in legions, and were 
smoked out ; also inquisitive cows, 
who prowled spectrally, and poked 
their heads in at our tent-openings 
with startling moos. Our beds of 
hay were decidedly more attractive 
to them than to us ; for, after mak- 
ing our nests with much henlike 
cackling, we found it hard to settle 
down, and kept breaking out into 
peals of laughter, as Molly's boots 
were found under Sally's pillow, 
Bessie slid down onto Kate, or Effie 
talked comically in her sleep. 



Adventures of great interest be- 
fell us, and every incident, however 
small, was found to be " thrilling." 
One day, a sailboat upset, with two 
strangers in it, and of course, our 
men rushed to the rescue ; while 
we stood in agitated groups on 
the shore, armed with brandy, hot 
water, and fans, ready to restore 
the drowned. No one was hurt, 
however ; and having righted the 
boat and wrung out the men, our 
boys came rollicking back, all the 
merrier for the scare. 

The. "admiral 77 got a fish-bone 

into his finger, and Nurse P 

officiated with knives and tweezers, 
the gallant tar turning faint during 
the operation only added to the 
interest of the thing ; and the mak- 
ing of a poultice under difficulties 
produced more laughter than most 
farces. 

Luly, the belle, fainted away be- 
cause her ear-ring hurt her, and made 
a tableau of herself lying pale and 
pretty under the trees, in the early 
dawn, white her adorers rushed 
wildly about with cholera medicine 
and rubber blankets. A fine thun- 
der-shower revived us after a hot 
day, and we all huddled into the 
big tent, feeling that a trifle of shel- 
ter was highly agreeable. Supper 
was endangered by the shower, and 
we were feeling rather forlorn at the 
prospect of cold tea and drenched 
toast, when Bob, the indomitable, 
quieted our fears by heroically hold- 
ing a sail over the fire and food, all 
through the shower, and marching 
up after it, dripping like a fish, but 
proudly bearing the dry, hot supper, 
" fer de young ladies and gemman, 
sar." 

^ I think, a ballet troupe of boys, 
airily dressed in rubber blankets, 
was the event of the season. Boots 
performed strange antics, and the 
" leap-frog dance " brought down 
the house. 

We broke camp reluctantly ; but 
an easterly storm was evidently 
brewing; so, after hearty cheers 
for everybody and everything, from 
Bob to the cows, we piled into our 



i868.] MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. 375 



boats, and sailed away in a pouring 
rain, damp, but jovial to the last. 

The Grand Quiddle, as we called 
one bachelor, who carried seventy- 
one articles to the picnic, including 
a bootjack, to drain on after bath- 
ing, was a sight to behold, as he sat 
in one puddle and tried to engineer 
some dozen lesser ones, which col- 
lected in every fold of his rubber 
coat. 

The " lazy man " likewise came 
to grief, for he was made to row 
the heaviest boat, and sat pensively 
pulling, with drops streaming off 
the end of his nose, the starch van- 
ishing from his collar, and the color 
washing out of his smart red tie. 

We were received at the hotel 
with as much curiosity as if we had 
been shipwrecked mariners from a 
desert island. One lady said we 
were " as good as a menagerie ; " 
another inquired if we were " the 
strolling actors, who had lately 
played at L ? " and a third ob- 
server added that we " looked like 
a rough set, whoever we were." 
So we did ; for sun, rain, rips, dirt, 
and fun rendered us a sight for gods 
and men. 

We felt like a circus when we were 
packed into a big omnibus, and went 
bumping away over the hills, tired, 
but well satisfied, mildewed but 
merry ; and I advise all who love 
fresh air, wholesome exercise, and 
the best of fun, to try camping out 
in the summer-time. 

COUSIN TRIBULATION. 

UNCLE TIM, from whom we have 
not heard for a long time, sends an 
interesting story of " A Freedman's 
School." 

In the summer of 1865, myself 
and companion were engaged by 
the American Missionary Society 
to go to the State of Georgia, and 
open a school for colored children, 
in the vicinity of Savannah. 

After a pleasant and very inter- 
esting voyage from New York to 
Savannah, in an ocean steamer, the 
particulars of which I will not men- 
tion in this letter, we arrived in that 
southern city, and engaged an am- 



bulance, to take us out into the 
country about twenty miles, as the 
railroads had all been torn up by 
General Sherman's army a short 
time before. 

Our schoolroom was the front 
parlor and sitting-room of a splen- 
did mansion, belonging to a very 
wealthy planter, but deserted by 
him and his family, and very much 
injured and disfigured by the sol- 
diers in General Sherman's army. 
It was our design to collect the 
colored children of two large plan- 
tations into this building, to teach 
them as well as we could. 

We accordingly gave notice to 
some of the colored people, that on 
the next Monday morning, at nine 
o'clock, our school would commence. 
The idea that a school for black 
children was to be set up, that it 
was to be free and open to all, 
created as much excitement as the 
opening of Pandora's box among 
the Celestials. Every peeping-place 
was ornamented with a woolly head 
and a grand display of glistening 
ivory until Monday came. 

The hour appointed for school to 
open was at nine ; but, by half-past 
seven, my companion had occasion 
to go to the door for some purpose, 
when an exclamation of surprise 
called me also there, and such a 
sight I never looked upon before. 
The steps in front, the gravel walk 
below and for a number of yards 
back, was covered as thick and 
dense as a lump of sugar is some- 
times with those little red ants 
which occasionally infest the pan- 
try. Such a chattering could not 
have been equalled had all the 
blackbirds in Georgia been gath- 
ered for one grand concert 

Schooltime came at last. We 
had provided for each of us a long, 
heavy switch, in case there was any 
danger of our fortress being taken 
by storm ; and well was it for us and 
the children too, that we had this 
forethought ; for no sooner were the 
front doors thrown open, than on, 
on came the crowd of children, all 
eager to be first to enter. The rush 
of the crowd was fearful to look 



376 MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. [September. 



upon. We gathered our switches, 
and by laying on with all our might, 
finally beat back the crowd, and 
saved the lives of some of the 
smaller children. Finally, when all 
were seated, on the floor, of course, 
for benches were out of the ques- 
tion for such numbers, those large 
rooms were closelypacked. We first 
taught the children that the ringing 
of the hand-bell meant silence. We 
next took down the names of all, 
and of those who knew their letters. 
But here an unexpected difficulty oc- 
curred. We might as well listen to 
the barbarous chattering of a China- 
man, as their plantation lingo ; and 
had it not been for some house- 
servants present, we never could 
have got through with it. But 
one difficulty was scarcely provided 
for, before another broke out. All 
were willing to keep silent, and very 
anxious to help us along in keeping 
all the rest silent. Some one made 
some slight noise. His next neigh- 
bor immediately began to hush him 
with " sh sh sh ! " and in ten 
seconds, four hundred voices were 
all let loose with that abominable 
plantation hiss of silence, " sh sh 
sh-h-h-h ! " We screamed with 
all our might ; but the storm was a 
hundred times stronger than our 
voices. We seized our bells with 
one hand, and with our switches in 
the other, finally restored order 
once more. We found seventy who 
partly knew the alphabet, and three 
hundred and thirty who knew noth- 
ing about it. In eight months, we 
had one-half of them in the " Second 
Reader." Some few we could do 
nothing with, and all the rest had 
mastered the " First Reader." 

Such was our first experience in 
teaching the children of the Freed- 
men of Georgia. There are many 
other interesting incidents in con- 
nection with our freedmen's schools 
in the South ; but time and space 
will not permit them to be intro- 
duced in this letter. Possibly, 



the subject may be resumed at 
some favorable time. 

Charlie. You can make that do- 
mestic barometer in this manner : 
Get one of the long (German) 
cologne bottles. Put into it two 
drachms of camphor, half a drachm 
of pure saltpetre, half a drachm of 
muriate of ammonia, and two ounces 
of proof spirits. Cork it up tight, 
and shake it well. Now make a 
little hole through the centre of the 
cork, by piercing it with a red-hot 
cambric needle ; tie a string around 
the neck of the bottle, and hang it 
near the window. In fine weather, 
the solution will remain clear. On 
the approach of change, little stars 
will rise in the mixture ; and stormy 
weather will produce quite a com- 
motion in it. But you will soon 
learn the signs, if you watch your 
barometer carefully. 

Bertie. Yes; "Mink Curtiss" 
"really was written by 'An Old 
Hunter'," a gentleman who lived 
many years in the Far West, among 
the Redmen, and at one time acted 
as their interpreter. 

T.C.B. C.W. McC. ; H. S.V. 
C. ; M. F. ; Mrs. A. L. F. ; E. H. ; 
A. Q. ; M. E. B. ; M. A. L. ; A. A. 
R. ; W. C H. , F. W. C. L. ; and 

S. B. H. Your premiums have 
been mailed to you. The delay 
was occasioned by the loss of the 
illustrations for the books. 

Minnie W. Have you received 
"Sunny-Eyed Tim?"' 

Kittie H. is welcome. We have 
one Evening Star. 

To CONTRIBUTORS. All manu- 
scripts intended for publication in 
this magazine must be sent to the 
publisher. Write your name on the 
manuscript. Accepted articles are 
paid for on publication; and re- 
jected manuscripts returned to their 
authors only when stamps are sent 
to prepay postage. 




VOL. I.] 



OCTOBER, 1868. 



[NO. 10. 




THE STORY OF GLAUCUS. 

" He left a name, at which the world grew pale, 
To point a moral, or adorn a tale." SAM JOHNSON. 

HOUSANDS upon thousands of years ago, 
there lived a mighty king named Minos, who 
was ruler over the beautiful isle of Crete, a 
long, hilly tract of land, rising up out of the 
waters of the Mediterranean, to bask, as it were, 
in the sunshine. It was a pleasant place, this 
island of Crete, I assure you, my young readers. 
The rigors of winter were unknown to the inhabi- 
tants ; and snow could be found only by climbing 
to the top of the high mountain, which shot 
straight up from the centre of the island into the 
clouds. Soft, cooling breezes played around in 
the warm season, which served to weaken the 
force of the summer heat. There were grassy 
meadows, sprinkled with flowers of brilliant hue, 
limpid streams, whose banks were skirted with all 
kinds of shady trees, and vast groves of cypresses 
and oaks and maples. Scattered here and there, 
throughout the island, were cities and villages ; 
and so many were they in numbers, that the 
Greeks, who lived on the other side of the sea, 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by H. B. FITLI.BB, in the Clerk's 
Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



378 THE STORY OF GLAUCUS. [October, 

called the island " hundred-citied Crete." But the most beautiful 
of all the towns and cities of the island was Gnosos, which stood 
not far from the coast, on the banks of the Caeratus. There the 
great King Minos lived, with his eight beautiful children, in a 
huge marble palace, adorned with statues which possessed the 
power of speech ; and there he proclaimed his edicts from a mag- 
nificent golden throne, studded with glittering diamonds. 

Minos shared his splendid throne with his queen, Pasiphae, 
who bore him his eight pretty children. Glaucus was one of the 
youngest of these, and his father's pet. He was a bright child, 
with an honest, beaming countenance, and a great abundance of 
pretty flaxen ringlets. But, oh ! how mischievous the little fellow 
was. He was a constant source of anxiety to his queenly mother ; 
yet, although he was constantly getting himself into innumerable 
scrapes, his indulgent father could not find it in his heart to 
punish his little bright-eyed son. 

One pleasant, summer afternoon, little Glaucus wandered rest- 
lessly about the huge palace, with nothing in the world to do. He 
had thrown aside his toys in disgust, and the string of his little 
Cretan bow was broken ; so he thought that he would go upstairs 
to play with his sister Ariadne. But the pretty Ariadne was busy, 
and crossly told him to go away, and not plague her. The birds 
were chirping merrily in the great walled garden behind the pal- 
ace, and, hearing their harmonious notes, Glaucus seized his sling, 
and rushed out into the garden to shoot the feathered songsters. 
But the birds would not let him come near enough to hit them ; 
and soon tiring of this fruitless sport, the little Glaucus looked 
blankly about him for something to do. 

In one corner of the great garden stood a huge cask, filled 
almost to the brim with golden honey. In this island of Crete, 
honey, you must know, was a sort of national dish, both of the 
rich and of the poor ; and King Minos himself, was so fond of the 
sweet food, that he always kept a good supply of it on hand for 
his own use. This huge cask of honey met the eye of the little 
Glaucus, as he looked around the garden for something to do ; 
and, in spite of the oft-repeated cautions of his loving father, not to 
go near the tank, he was strongly impelled by his curiosity to take 
just a little peep inside, and only a taste of the honey. He wasn't 
by any means tall enough to reach the top of the cask, even on 
tiptoe ; so he got him a chair, and looking around to see that none 
of the servants were near, he placed the chair carefully against the 



l868.] THE STORY OF GLAUCUS. 



379 



side of the cask, and stood up on it. He had to tug with all his 
might and main to lift the heavy cover ; but when at last he had 
pushed it well back, there he beheld the thick, golden honey, al- 
most filling the cask, and looking so inviting, that it made his little 
mouth water to gaze upon it. He reached quickly Out to grasp 
the dipper, which was floating out of reach, on the top of the 
honey, and, losing his balance, the little fellow fell down, down, 
into the thick, yellow liquid, which, pouring in at his mouth and 
nose, suffocated them in its sweetness. 

When evening came, Glaucus was for the first time missed, and 
Ariadne was sent into the garden to call him. But no little voice 
answered her summons ; and, after a fruitless search, she ran back 
to her father, to tell him that Glaucus was not to be found in the 
garden. So they searched the great palace over and over again, 
and Minos himself went into the garden, and peered up into every 
tree, and thrust his torch into every shady nook ; but no Glaucus 
was to be found. He knew that it was impossible for Glaucus to 
have climbed the high stone wall with which the garden was sur- 
rounded ; and as the great brazen gates of the palace had been 
closed all the afternoon, he could not have escaped from the 
palace. The royal parent began to feel more and more anxious 
at his little son's disappearance, and aroused all his subjects in 
the good city of Gnosos, to join in the search for the lost prince. 
For the whole of the next week, the city was in a turmoil of ex- 
citement ; everybody joined in seeking for the little mischievous 
fellow, whom they all loved ; but in vain were the most inacces- 
sible retreats explored ; in vain was the country for miles around 
tramped over and over again ; in vain was every little stream 
dragged ; no little Glaucus could be found. And all this time, 
no one ever thought of looking into the great honey-tank, which 
stood in its corner of the garden, neglected now ; for Minos was 
too sorrowful to think of his favorite dish. 

The poor father and mother, as each attempt to recover their 
lost boy proved futile, grew daily more and more despondent, and 
had almost given him up as dead to them forever, when Minos, as 
a last resource, turned to his patron god, Apollo, and supplicated 
him, with all the beseeching prayers and entreaties he could in- 
vent, to assist him in recovering the lost Glaucus. Now, Apollo 
liked Minos, who was his most enthusiastic servant, and the most 
untiring of his followers in his efforts to advance his worship, and 
for this reason returned a gracious answer to the petition of the 



380 THE STORY OF GLAUCUS. [October, 

Cretan king. The divine response was, that whosoever should 
find an object which might be most appropriately compared with 
a cow, which could assume three different colors, would be granted 
the power of finding the lost prince. 

The receipt of this answer infused fresh hope in the breast of the 
despairing Minos, and he no longer doubted that he should soon 
see once again his bright-eyed, mischievous little boy, .romping 
as of old through the great resounding halls of his marble palace. 
To obtain a solution of the problem proposed by the god, Minos 
caused his heralds to proceed to every city and town, large or 
small, throughout his own extensive dominions, and also to the 
great cities of neighboring Greece, and proclaim that magnificent 
presents, and the good-will of the mighty King Minos, awaited 
whomsoever should solve the riddle. All the wise men and phi- 
losophers in the world puzzled their brains for a long time over 
this strange enigma ; and, at last, an old soothsayer, whose name 
was Polyidus, and who lived in Argos, far away in Greece, declared 
that he had discovered a solution of the problem. Accordingly, 
he was brought in state to Crete, and led into the presence of the 
great king, who was seated on his golden throne, with a brilliant 
array of courtiers, all magnificently attired, around him. Then the 
Argive told Minos, who was anxiously awaiting the promised an- 
swer, that a mulberry was like a cow, which could assume three 
different colors, for, when it was unripe, the mulberry was white ; 
as the warm season approaches, it grows red ; and when perfectly 
ripe, it is black. 

There was great rejoicing throughout the palace, when this solu- 
tion of Apollo's problem was advanced, and Minos cried out to 
the old man to bring him his son, and receive the reward. 

The soothsayer, telling them all to follow, led the way, as if by 
inspiration, through the great hall of the palace, right out into the 
garjien, and, to the surprise of all, he went straight up to the huge 
honey-cask, and, thrusting his hand into the sweet liquid, drew' 
forth the inanimate form of little Glaucus. 

There was wailing and weeping in the great palace of King 
Minos, as the lifeless body of the young prince was taken from its 
tomb of honey, and borne through the echoing corridors to the 
low bed on which he used to lay his weary little body after a long 
day's play ; and, as he was carried along, the sweet liquid dripped 
from the saturated clothing, and formed small rivulets of honey on 
the marble floors of the palace. The grief of Minos, as he beheld 



1868.] THE STORY OF GLAUCUS. 381 

the inanimate form of his little son, whom he had expected to see 
alive, was terrible to behold. He beat his breast, he tore his hair, 
he reproached the god Apollo ; and, at length, his grief turning 
to anger, he fell upon the old soothsayer, and commanded him, 
under pain of death, to bring his child back to life. The old 
Argive, although he could solve a difficult riddle, could not bring 
the dead to life again, and knowing that it was simply impossible 
for him to obey the command of the cruel king, passively prepared 
for death ; and the barbarous and unrelenting Minos caused the 
venerable Argive to be confined alive in the same tomb with his 
unfortunate child. 

It was a huge sepulchre in which Polyidus found himself, whdse 
marble walls were cold and damp, the small holes pierced in the 
stout iron door, permitted him to see, all around the tomb, stone 
coffins, in which lay the bones of former kings of Crete, and other 
ancestors of Minos. Here, in a beautiful sarcophagus, ornamented 
with gold, was all that was left of the Cretan lawgiver, the good 
and just Minos, the grandfather of the Minos who had so inhu- 
manly entombed the old soothsayer alive. Here too were the 
coffins of Tectamus, of AscaniuSj of Lycastus, the father of the 
second Minos, of Ida his mother, and of other celebrated mytho- 
logical Cretans. 

After he had carefully explored the tomb and its contents, the 
unfortunate soothsayer sat calmly down in one corner of the sepul- 
chre, to await grim Death as calmly and as peacefully as he could. 
He never once thought of attempting to escape, for he knew that 
was impracticable, since he could see, in the vicinity of the tomb, 
the guards that Minos had stationed there. So he sat in his 
corner, silently thinking over the events of his past life, and the 
probable future. A serpent, which had crept through a hole in 
the wall, and was gliding slowly towards the spot where lay the 
body of the* little Glaucus, disturbed the old man from his reflec- 
tions. He rose hastily at sight of the reptile, and seizing a stone, 
crushed the serpent to death. Once more he resumed his seat, 
and buried himself in his thoughts, but was soon awakened from 
his meditations by the entrance of a second serpent, which, find- 
ing its venomous mate dead on the ground, quickly glided out of 
the tomb, and in a few moments returned with some leaves in its 
mouth. 

The curiosity of Polyidus was excited by the strange actions of 
the serpent, and he observed the reptile intently, as it slowly 



382 THE STORY OF GLAUCUS. [October, 

approached its dead comrade, and placed the leaves on its body. 
To the great surprise of the soothsayer, signs of life began to ap- 
pear in the body of the serpent he had but a few moments ago 
crushed to death with the heavy stone ; and soon, the reptile, re- 
stored to life by the miraculous herb, joined its mate, and together 
they quitted the tomb. 

The soothsayer, trembling all over with the excitement of this 
chance discovery, sprang from his seat, seized the leaves, and laid 
them on the lifeless clay, which had once been a bright, mischiev- 
ous little boy. How anxiously did he bend over the child, to 
catch the first glimpse of returning life! How joyful did he feel as 
the miraculous power first began to be exercised, and the bosom 
of the child slowly heaved with the new sensation of vitality ! 
How gladly did he hail the Cretan women without, and tell them 
to fetch King Minos, for Glaucus was again alive ! 

There was gladness and great rejoicing in the marble palace of 
the Cretan monarch, as the sprightly Glaucus, laughing and mis- 
chievous as ever, was brought in, to be clasped over and over again 
in the loving arms of father, mother, sisters, brothers, in every- 
body's arms, until he came very near being suffocated again. 
And not the least-pleased person was the old soothsayer himself, 
who was sent back to Argos, laden with the richest presents the 
whole kingdom could afford. Ever afterwards, little Glaucus kept 
away from the great honey-cask, and learned by this first lesson of 
experience, that disobedience is always visited with its due punish- 
ment. F. H. v. 




MINK CURTISS. 





MINK CURTISS ; OR, LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 

BY AN OLD HUNTER. 

CHAPTER III. 

(Continued from the September Number) 

[INK CURTISS was standing as straight and as firm as 
one of the trees around him, with his rifle ready cocked, 
and thrown into the hollow of his arm. 

" Hist ! " he said, in a very low tone of voice, as 
George and Frank drew cautiously to his side. " Hist ! Look 
there ! " and he motioned to a thicket, a little distance ahead. 

Then the somewhat terrified boys saw a sight they might have 
heard of, but certainly had never seen before, a sight that 
thrilled them through every fibre. To Curtiss, it was nothing new ; 
he had seen the same thing, perhaps, hundreds of times. With 
its head raised some little distance from the ground, was a large 
it appeared immense to them black snake. Its mouth was 
open ; its lidless eyes seemingly emitting sparks of fire ; its tongue 
vibrating, and its body moving in gentle undulations. Before it, 
was a little bird, whirling rapidly around, and uttering cries of 
terror, whirling, struggling apparently to get away, and yet con- 
stantly contracting its circles and drawing nearer to its death. 
So much occupied were the snake and the bird, that neither no- 
ticed the man and the boys that were watching them. 

" In ernuther minnit," whispered Mink Curtiss, " and that ar 
bird will fly strait inter ther snake's mouth ; " and he raised his 
rifle, quick as thought, and fired. The head of the snake was com- 
pletely severed from the body and rolled to some distance, while 
the body twisted in frightful contortions. The bird too, released 



384 MINK CURTISS; OR, [October, 

from the fatal charm, had fallen to the ground, and Frank, now 
that all danger had passed, rushed forward to pick it up and 
smooth its ruffled plumage. 

" Yer kin pick it up, and welcome," said the old hunter, as he 
was carefully wiping his beloved rifle. " Yer kin pick it up ; but 
yer'll find it jest as dead as ther snake." 

The result proved the truth of what he had said. The little 
heart was still ; the strong wings were nerveless ; the eyes closed ; 
and the tongue that had poured forth songs of praise to its Maker, 
at morning and evening, would never utter note again. 

" How came it dead, Mr. Curtiss ? I am certain that the snake 
was not near enough to touch it," said Frank, as he carefully ex- 
amined the tiny form. 

" No ; yer right thar. The snake didn't touch it ; but I knew 
yer'd find it dead. I've seen jest such things berfore." 

" What, then, was the cause of its death ? " 

" Now, yer ax me too much," replied the honest old man. " I 
hain't larned ernuff to answer ther question, though I orter know 
more erbout it than ther most of men that have put stories in 
books concarnin' it. I concate, howsomever, that it am fright and 
ther pisonous breath of the sarpint that killed it. We call it snake- 
charmin'." 

" I have often read about it." 

" And now, yer have seen it, and kin speak fer yerself. No, 
no j ther bite of er black snake hain't pison ther least grain ; and 
it must be somethin' in ther breath that does it." 

" Have all snakes this strange power ? " asked George. 

" Rattlesnakes sartinly have it, jest as well as ther black ones ; 
but I can't say erbout ony others." 

" And can they charm a man as well as a bird ? " 

" I've hern tell on sich things ; in fact, I knew er young gal 
once, that said she had bin charmed by er sarpint, but I never 
saw it." 

" But you believe it ? " 

" Sartinly. Thar's many er thing that's jest as true as ther 
Bible, that I have never seen j and it mought not have bin right 
fer me ter shoot ther snake ; fer ther good Lord created it, and 
gave it ther power, in order that it might catch its prey. Some- 
how, I can't help shootin' er sarpint. They hain't like anythin' 
else. I may be wrong I hope not ; but I never kill any other 
thing from mere wantonness." And the old man gave them a 



l868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 385 

lecture upon the sin of destroying bird's nests, and throwing 
stones at harmless little birds, that we wish every cruel boy 
and. some girls too could have heard. In the meantime, Frank, 
with a swelling heart, had smoothed the bright feathers of the 
dead bird, wrapped it in leaves, and placed it in his pocket, so 
as to take it home and show, when he told the story ; and they 
had resumed their march. And for many miles it was continued, 
with only a rest by a clear spring, that trickled from a gray rock, 
to eat their luncheon. The prairie, smooth and level almost as 
the ocean, had long since been left behind, and they had ascended 
a steep range of hills. Then again, the old man paused, placed 
the boys upon another run-way, and started his faithful dog upon 
the trail. 

" This used ter be er famous spot fer shootin' deer in other 
days," he said ; " and I never come here without gittin' one or 
two, and sometimes more ; but it whar dangerous shootin'." 

" What made it dangerous, Mr. Curtiss ? " 

" Ther Injuns. They used ter be jest as thick as ther leaves on 
ther trees." 

" Is there any danger from them, now ? " asked the boys, in 
alarm, and more than half-regretting that they had ventured so far 
from home. 

" No ; I don't think that thar am. Howsomever, it's allers best 
ter be on ther safe side ; and " 

The ringing voice of the hound interrupted further explanation. 
He motioned the boys to be ready, placed his own rifle in position, 
and said, " I'll give yer er chance ter shoot fust, a.id ef yer both 
miss, then I'll shoot. Ready, and steady/now ! " 

A doe, closely followed by the hound, came dashing down the 
side of the mountain. It leaped into the cleared space he had 
chosen, saw them, and turned aside ; but at that instant, the boys 
fired ; and immediately afterwards, the rifle of the old hunter sent 
forth the fatal bullet. The " flag " dropped, as he had said. 

" I've known er deer ter run er hundred rods," he said, " arter 
it had got its death-wound. Ef its breath is er bein' drawn in, it 
will do so ; but ef it am er goin' out, it will drop at once. Now, I 
know that I hit that ar doe spang through ther heart, and we'll 
find it stone-dead." 

Without waiting to reload, the two started into the thick under- 
growth but they had not proceeded far, before the woods rang 
with a terrible shout, and they found themselves surrounded by, 



386 MINK CURTISS ; OR, [October, 

and the prisoners of, a band of grim and hideously painted 
Indians. 

Trembling in every limb, the poor boys gazed around upon #ie 
savage forms that hemmed them in on every side, and rendered 
escape impossible. There were fully twenty of the warriors, armed 
with the primitive weapons of their race the bows, arrows, and 
stone-headed hatchets and the more deadly rifle and pistols 
they had procured by trading their hard-earned skins and furs 
with unscrupulous white men. The boys had not the slightest 
doubt that they would die a sudden and a violent death ; and, 
childlike, their thoughts flew backwards to their happy home 
their kind father and mother ; and vainly they struggled against 
the strong' hands that restrained them vainly they fought for 
freedom. 

With the old hunter it was very different. Save the sigh that 
escaped him, as his cherished rifle was torn from his grasp, 
there was nothing to tell that anything outside of the common 
course had transpired. He was just as calm as when seated in 
his own little cabin, smoking his pipe, he indulged in day-dreams 
as to the amount of peltries he would be able to secure during the 
coming autumn and winter. But little time, however, had they for 
reflection. The Indians knew that they were upon a dangerous 
trail, although a swift runner had brought them word, that the 
great chief, " Black Hawk," had dug up the hatchet, and taken the 
war-path with his braves ; and with scarcely a moment of respite, 
the prisoners were hurried away to where their rough, but swift- 
footed, and hardy ponies were waiting, and mounting them, pro- 
ceeded at as rapid a pace as possible, westward. 

" O Mr. Curtiss ! " exclaimed Frank, as they chanced to be rid- 
ing side by side., " O Mr. Curtiss ! Where are they taking us ? 
and what will they do with us ? My mother ! My poor, dear 
mother ! " and the bright eyes, that, but a brief time before had 
been dancing with hope, were filled with tears. 

" Wai," replied the old man, almost under his breath ; " wal, I 
concate that they am ergoin' ter take us ter one of thar villerges ; 
but what they will do arter they git us thar am ernuther thing. 
Ther Injuns am jest as unsartin as er sarpint, and thar's no tellin' 
what they will do." 

" But, suppose they should kill us ? " and every horror perpe- 
trated by the red man, of which the boy had read, arose before him. 

" It hain't likely. I don't hardly think they will do it ; and yet, 



i868.] 



LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 



387 




they may. But er man should always be rea.dy ter die. I am like 
er old tree, whose branches are berginnin' ter be dead at ther top, 
and whose root is erdyin' in ther ground, and it don't make much 
matter when I go ; but yer young and fresh, like er g'-een saplin', 
and it would be a pity fer yer ter be cut down so suddinly. But 
yer mustn't talk, boys. Ther redskins don't like it, nohow. Watch 
every step of ther way keerfully, and break a twig now and ergin, 
ef yer kin ;. so that, ef onythin' should turn up, yer'd know yer way 
back hum ergin." 

A brutal-looking Indian, who had been riding the nearest to 
them, rode in between at the moment, and waved his tomahawk 
threateningly above their heads, at the same time exclaiming, in 
his broken English, " Pale-face no talk, or me cut tongue out ; " 
and, to be certain that his command was not disobeyed, he sepa- 
rated the old hunter from the boys, and made him ride some dis- 
tance in the rear of them. It was a slight consolation, however, 
to the brothers, that they were permitted to remain together, even 
though the watchful eyes of the savages forbid them to speak ; 



388 MINK CURTISS j OR, [October, 

but they remembered the advice of Mink Curtiss, and carefully 
observed the course they were travelling and the ground over 
which they journeyed, hoping against hope, that the knowledge 
might, at some future time, be of use to them. 

With the first gathering of darkness, the Indians halted, and pre- 
pared to rest for the night. Forcing their captives to dismount, 
they fastened them securely to the trunks of trees, standing some 
distance apart ; fettered their ponies, to prevent their wandering 
too far ; built a fire ; flung upon the glowing embers the flesh of the 
deer, and offered it, when half-cooked, to the old hunter and the 
boys, together with a draught of water in rude birchen vessels. 
The former eat with a great relish, if one could judge by appear- 
ances and the quantity he devoured ; but the latter pushed it 
aside, almost with disgust, until the low whispers of Mink Curtiss 
reached their ears. 

" Try ter eat ; that's good boys," he said. " It'll make ther 
redskins mad ef yer don't ; and bersides, yer need it ter keep up 
yer strength arter yer long walk and ride ; and, above all things, 
don't let them see that yer erfeard. Thar's nothin' they hate so 
much as er coward." 

Thus urged, they managed to force down a small quantity of 
the venison ; but the contrast was so great, to the clean cooking 
and snow-white table-cloths and shining dishes of their mother, 
that it was with extreme difficulty they did so. Ah ! Home was 
to them such a place of delight as they had never dreamed of be- 
fore ; and how they would prize it when they got back again, 
if, indeed, they lived to do so. 

It was a weary night, especially to the poor boys j for the bonds, 
that had been increased after the meal was finished, forbid the 
exercise of their limbs, and it was with great difficulty that they 
could turn over. But, at length, completely worn out, they slept 
heavily, and were dreaming happy dreams, when the Indians again 
aroused them to the realities of life. It was not yet light ; but 
the fires were kindled, the rude breakfast being cooked, and the 
ponies saddled, and ready for a start. Mink Curtiss too was wan- 
dering around, freed from his bonds ; and seeing that they looked 
upon him with astonishment, he walked towards them, and has- 
tened to explain. 

" Some of ther redskins know me of old," he said ; " espeserly, 
that ar tall chief thar, with ther crow feathers twisted in his scalp- 
lock. His name is ther ' Flyin' Crow,' and he's er mighty brave 



l868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 389 

warrior, though er savage one. Wai, as I whar er sayin', he knows 
me, and he knows that I allers tells ther truth. So, when I prom- 
ised him that I wouldn't try ter escape until arter I got ter ther 
campin'-grounds, he jest cut ther elm-bark fastenin's prisoner- 
strings, they call 'em and gave me my liberty. Yer see what er 
good thing it am ter be known as one that allers tells ther truth." 

" The pale-face must not talk to the young braves," said the 
" Flying Crow," who had stood silently listening to the words of 
the old hunter. 

" Yer heard what I said," was the answer j " and I hain't 
ershamed on it. I never broke my word ter either ther white man 
or ther red, and I hain't ergoin' ter bergin now." 

" The Mink is a great brave," replied the Indian. " His song 
is true as that of the robin, and not false like the cuckoo ; " and 
satisfied that the old hunter would keep his promise, both in the 
letter and the spirit, he turned away, and left him with his 
young friends. But the crafty old man honest too, as the sun 
had been very careful what he had pledged himself to ; and as 
soon as the " Flying Crow " was out of hearing, he began giving 
the boys advice for their future guidance, and instructing them as 
to the best means to compass their escape. Very greatly to the 
satisfaction of all, they were permitted to ride together during the 
day ; and, when the shadows of night were gathering around for 
the second time' since their capture, they reached the village of the 
Indians, and were welcomed with a great outcry and with beating 
of drums. 

" It am er bad time fer us ter be brought heah," whispered the 
old hunter, as he saw that the faces of both the warriors and 
squaws were blackened ; that not a particle of brilliant-colored 
paint was to be seen on their tawny skin j and that they were 
totally devoid of ornament, even what was considered the magical 
wampum being absent. 

" What do you mean ? " asked George, in the same guarded 
manner, while his brother was looking curiously around. " Why 
is it a bad time ? " 

" Becase, thar has bin er battle somewhar ; and ther redskins 
have been worsted, and have lost er good many, and am er mournin', 
and even more savage than they usuerly am. I'm most erfeard 
that it will go hard with us ; but we must trust in ther good Lord, 
and mayhap, He'll deliver us out on thar hands." 

To the boys, even though they were in a desperate situation, the 



390 MINK CURTISS ; OR, [October, 

scene was an interesting one. On every side, the cone-shaped 
wigwams, framed with poles, and covered with bark and skins, 
could be seen through the interstices of the forest. From the 
apex of some, the thin smoke curled up ; and in front of others, 
little fires were burning, and over them were suspended kettles, 
around which the squaws and the younger children were waging 
war with the half-starved dogs. In a circle, upon the open space, 
in the centre of which stood the terrible post of torture, the war- 
riors were gathered, sitting in stolid silence, and passing the huge 
calumet or war-pipe, from hand to hand. One look at their faces 
would have satisfied any one that all other feeling was swallowed up 
by a desire for vengeance. But, as is their custom, they showed 
nothing of what was passing in their minds, and were far too reticent 
to even speak of the matter amongst themselves, until the proper 
time came. So, when the captives were brought into the encamp- 
ment, they continued smoking in silence, and scarcely raised their 
eyes from the ground. This, as the old hunter had stated, was a 
bad sign ; and he was not at all surprised when they were led to the 
prison wgwam, and closely fettered there. He knew that nothing 
would be done until the morrow ; that there were mystic rites and 
ceremonies first to be gone through with ; that the medicine-man 
of the tribe would be called upon to perform his mummeries before 
they would be led forth to torture and. to death. 

For himself, he cared but little ; but that the boys, while under 
his care, should have been captured, wrung him to the very heart ; 
and as soon as he deemed that the red man's etiquette would per- 
mit, he sent for the " Flying Crow," and conversed long and ear- 
nestly with him. But of the purport of that conversation, the boys 
knew nothing, for it was carried on in the Indian tongue. 

" Yer see, Crow," he said, " they am scarcely more'n papooses ; 
have never bin on ther war-path ; never had er fire-weapon in ther 
hands berfore terday ; and hain't never done yer race ther least 
grain of harm." 

" My brothers have fallen like leaves in the autumn-time, when the 
north wind sweeps in its wrath along," replied the Indian, bitterly. 

" I know all that ; but they whar men, and took ther risk of 
losin' thar scalps, when they whar er tryin' ter git others." 

" The Manitou of the red man is angry. He is thirsting for the 
blood of the pale-face." 

" Yes j I know that am yer berlief, and I hain't got nothin' ter 
say ergin it. But yer say he wants blood ? Wai, jest let them ar 



1868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 



391 



boys go back ter ther homes, safe and sound, and yer may take 
me, and tie me up ter yer post of torture, and cut and burn jest as 
much as yer have er mind ter." 

" My pale-faced brother would give his life for those he loves ? " 
replied the chief, with a look of admiration. 

" Sartinly," answered the old man ; " sartinly I would ; and er 
hundred lives, ef I had 'em. Yer see, I promised ter take good 
keer of ther boys, and bring them safe back hum ergin." 

" And he would keep his word to the death ? " 

" Yes, yes ! " 

The Indian turned away without a word. As he admired courage 
in his own race, even so could he the courage of his enemies ; and 
he pleaded long and fervently, when the council was assembled, that 
the request of Mink Curtiss might be granted, hoping that some- 
thing might transpire by which he could also save his life, for he 
had known him long, and respected him. But he plead in vain. 
He might as well have argued to the senseless trees. 

" All must die ! " was the decision of the head chief of the tribe. 
" The thirsty earth has drank up the blood of our brothers ; their 
bones are lying unburied ; the wolves are howling around them, 
and their squaws and papooses are bowed in the cold ashes of 
their wigwams. The pale-faces must die ! " 

" Ugh ! Yes ! " was echoed by every lip, save that of the " Fly- 
ing Crow," and he returned sadly, to inform the old hunter of his 
fate. He entered the lodge where they were confined, sat down, 
drew his blanket over his head, but spake never a word. And 
none was needed. Mink Curtiss knew well wljat it portended ; 
and when at length, the Indian rose to depart, he said, 

" I have ter thank yer, Crow ; fer I know yer have done ther best 
that whar posserble ; and when our speerits are travellin' ther dark 
road that leads ter ther happy huntin'-grounds, I want yer ter 
promise me ter see ther boys buried arter ther fashion of thar 
people. Fer ' myself, it don't matter much ; and I reckon ther 
good Lord kin find us, no matter whar we be, in ther great and 
terrerble day of judgment." 

There was much of this that the Indian did not understand. 
But the happy hunting-ground was familiar to him, and he knew 
enough of the mode of burial customary among the white men, to 
understand the wishes of the old hunter, and so promised. 

" And," said Mink Curtiss, " I concate we won't have ter wait 
long, and our fate is fixed ? " 



392 MINK CURTISS. [October, 

" Tomorrow ! Pau-guk ! " was the curt reply ; and the " Flying 
Crow " hurried away, as if fearful of farther questioning. 

" Yes death ! " continued the hunter. " Wai, it must come to 
all ; and, but ther poor boys, ther poor boys ! " 

The guard that had been appointed to watch over the prisoners 
during the dark hours came in, and interrupted him. They ex- 
amined the fastenings, saw that there was no possibility of escape, 
and then took their places on the outer side, so as to completely 
surround the wigwam. 

To prepare the boys for the swift-coming and terrible death that 
was in store for them, was the first thought of the old hunter ; but 
he refrained, and even talked to them hopefully of the chances of 
escape. " Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," was the 
motto he somewhat perverted to fit the situation. " I've bin in er 
tighter place than this am, boys," he said ; " and I hain't ergoin' 
ter give up beat now ; " and he managed to turn himself over, so 
as to reach the bonds of Frank with his head, and began to untie 
the knots with his teeth. But it was a very difficult task. The 
fingers that had bound them were skilled in the performance of 
such duties, and what a knife would have accomplished in a minute, 
was to him the work of hours. Still, he succeeded in the end ; and 
then he whispered to the boy, to do the same good office for his 
brother and himself. And at length, they were all released. But 
of what good was it ? They were surrounded by guards, and in 
the very heart of the encampment ; to escape, was almost an im- 
possibility. 

With a whispered word of direction to keep the utmost silence, 
and refrain from talking, the old hunter raised the covering of the 
wigwam, and looked without. It was a night of almost starless 
darkness. The moon was hidden behind dense clouds, and the 
wind soughed solemnly through the branches ; but the sharp eyes 
of the old hunter instantly detected that there was one side of 
their prison-house left unguarded, and giving the boys the clue, he 
crawled thither, and soon all were creeping like dogs towards the 
thick wood. They reached it in safety, were confident that no 
one had seen them ; and a prayer of thankfulness was already 
forming on the lips of all, when, from behind the giant trunks, a 
dozen stalwart warriors sprang out, and they were instantly dragged 
back, and secured ten times as strongly as before. 




J S68.] WHAT THE FLOWERS SAY. 



393 




WHAT THE FLOWERS SAY. 

GOOD-DAY, little .children ; we're winking 

The dews from our opening eyes ; 
So glad you have come to us early, 

While morning is yet in the skies. 

Wherever we flowers are growing, 

In by-lane, on hillock, or hill, 
We like to be gathered by children, 

Some purpose of love to fulfil. 

Mamma, with her vases all empty, 

How gladly she welcomes us there ! 
And how papa smiles when you give him 

A bud in his waistcoat to wear ! 

Little Susie lies ill in her chamber ; 

Go there, a sweet gift to confer ; 
In her thin eager hands she will clasp us, 

And we shall be precious to her. 

Come, little ones, happy and healthy, 

Wild roses are waiting for you ; 
Sweet meadow-pinks, buttercups, daisies, 

Red-clover, and grass-flowers blue. 

We toss our heads this way and that way, 

As gentle winds over us move ; 
Come, gather us quick, little children, 

And run on. your errands of love. 

MRS. A. M. WELLS. 



394 



LITTLE PEARL. 



[October, 




LITTLE PEARL. 



CHAPTER VII. LIGHT FOR THE NIGHT. 



HE ride from Mulberry Hill seemed 
very long to Agnes ; and her first 
thought when she reached home 
was of her little sister. " Miss 
Muggins, where is Pearl ? " was the 
eager question, as she rushed into 
the house. 

"Where's Pearl? Great deal 
you care where Pearl is," was the 
answer. " Go away, and leave her 
to herself all day, and she sick. 
She's in the other room, sick- abed ; 
and my opinion is, she'll never be 
any better." 

Pale and trembling, Agnes went 
into her father's room, and found 
Pearl lying on her little trundle- 
bed, asleep. But it was a restless 



sleep. She tossed about, and moaned, as if in 
pain j and her flesh was burning hot. 

" O Miss Muggins ! What's happened to her ? What makes 
her so much worse ? Did she feel bad because we went away ? " 

" Of course, she did ; and I couldn't be right at their heels all 
the time. About noon, just when it was hottest, Bliss run away 
somewhere. Pearl went after him ; when she got back, she was 
all heated up, and said she was tired ; so, I told her to come in 
here, and lay down ; and she has been here ever since." 

The father came in to see her. " Yes ; she is sick," he said ; 
"she is very sick! " and his low, troubled tones filled the sisters' 
hearts with terror. And when Pearl awoke, and they found that 
she did not know them, that she was unconscious of everything 
around her, they were indeed stricken with grief; and all that 




1 868.] LITTLE PEARL. 



395 



night, Agnes, unable to sleep, watched at the bedside with her 
father ; and Pearl, in her delirium, would now call, " Mamma ! 
Mamma ! " in most piteous tones ; and then be in some sudden 
terror about Bliss, or cry out that robbers had killed her father ; 
or beg Agnes and Gassy not to run away, and leave her. In the 
morning, she was more restful ; but the doctor said that she had 
the brain-fever, and that unless she was most carefully nursed, and 
kept very quiet, she would not live. 

" Would not live ! " How full of sorrowful meaning were those 
words to Agnes and Gassy ! What if their little sister died, 
and never knew them again, never knew how sorry they 
were for all their selfishness and neglect ? They could not bear 
to think about it. Awed and stilled, they hardly dared to move 
or speak, and even Miss Muggins stepped softly, and spoke low, 
as if she too was anxious and sorry. Early in the afternoon, Pearl 
fell into a sort of slumber, and the father went into town to get a 
nurse. He said that he would come back as soon as possible, and 
told Agnes to watch beside Pearl, and keep perfectly still, and that 
perhaps she would not awake until his return. Kind Mrs. Fen- 
wick, who had been with them since morning, had gone home, 
and Agnes and Gassy were left in the room alone with their 
little sister ; for Gassy came and watched too. She could not play 
any more ; and hours of that pleasant summer afternoon, they sit 
there in silence and darkness ; and, though the sunbeams strove 
to steal in through the blinds, and the birds sang blithely in the 
trees around, and Tad and Lule peeped in at the door, yet, they 
were not lured away. 

Pearl awoke just as it was about time to expect the father back. 
She moved, and seemed to speak. Agnes bent low to hear ; and 
she thought that the name of Bliss was repeated once or twice. 

" She is worrying about Bliss," thought Agnes. " I'll go and see 
where he is ; " and she crept softly to the door, and went out. 

Bliss was not in the garden ; and glancing around the prairie, 
she saw, at a little distance from the house, his dark curly head, 
bobbing up and down in the tall grass. She ran to catch him, and 
looking down the road, she saw her father coming ; and behind 
him, there was another carriage a large covered carriage such 
as rarely came that way. Was it coming across the prairie ? Who 
could it be ? She caught Bliss up in her arms, and ran back to 
the house. Pearl was dozing again ; and Agnes went to the hall- 
door, to see if the carriage was coming there. Yes ; it had passed 



2p6 APPEAL OF PETER THE HERMIT. [October, 

the grove ; it was coming nearer and nearer ; and when the father 
stopped at the gate, the carriage stopped too. Who could it be ? 
The carriage-door was opened ;' a glimpse of silvery hair and gold- 
bowed spectacles, of a pale, sweet face, and lithe, girlish form, sent 
a thrill to the little lonely heart. It was Grandma and Aunt Nelly ! 
It was Grandma and Aunt Nelly ! 




APPEAL OF PETER THE HERMIT* 

JURING five hundred years, the pilgrims who have 
visited the holy city of Jerusalem, have paid tribute 
to the enemies of the true religion. In these later 
years, this humiliation is not enough. The land whence 
our religion sprung, land consecrated by the sufferings of the 
Crucified One, and by the blood of martyrs, is now in the keep- 
ing of a brutal horde of Turks. We, who have made our pil- 
grimage, to stand for a little time near the sacred places, heavy 
of heart, often ahungered, often pelted by raging storms and 
burned by scorching heat, at last, we have been turned back 
from the gates of the City, with revilings and scourgings. Shall we 
suffer these atrocities to be inflicted upon pious men ? Shall we 
suffer forever the blessed relics to be desecrated ? If we are Chris- 
tians, the Holy City is ours. Men of the true faith, to the far 
East we must go. The tomb of our Saviour must be rescued from 
the impious Turks. Let us march to the Holy City ! God wills 
it ! God wills it ! Come forth from your castle upon the hill, brave 
knight, and fight under the banner of the cross. Let the trumpet 
call the serving-men, whose homes are nestled beneath your for- 
tress walls. Come from the cottage and the castle and the walled 

* In the latter part of the eleventh century, Mohammedanism reigned 
supreme in the East. Even in the holy city of Jerusalem, the crescent 
had displaced the cross, and Christian pilgrims at the tomb of our Lord 
were cruelly treated by the Turks. Peter the Hermit, a French monk, 
who had seen their sufferings, resolved to arouse the chivalry of Europe 
to go to the rescue of the holy sepulchre. Barefoot, and in rags, he went 
up and down the land, haranguing the people, who caught his enthusi- 
asm, and followed him in great numbers. The above is a supposed exhor- 
tation. See "Milestones of English History," in September Number. 



l868.] BIRD-THOUGHTS. 397 

town. From every land of the true faith, Christian warriors shall 
come ; even from the distant isles of the ocean ; ay, nations I wist 
not of! We will free from polluting hands the sacred places. 
God wills it ! God wills it ! Let the wars of kings and the feuds 
of chiefs be at an end. Let the whole Western world have but one 
heart, and in resistless might sweep from the face of the earth the 
followers of the false prophet, who now impiously tread upon holy 
soil. They call us dogs and infidels, and scoff at our faith. Infi- 
dels ! With the red cross mounted on our shoulders, and gleam- 
ing on our banners, and the battle-axe in our right hand, we will 
force these dogs to eat their taunts. We will do brave deeds be- 
neath the walls of 'Jerusalem. Under the cross, we will do battle ; 
and when death comes, the golden gates above shall open to all 
who go forth in this Holy Cause. J. LOOMIS. 



BIRD -THOUGHTS. 

. MINE is a happy life ; 

Here, in the forest dim, 
Distant from scenes of strife, 

I sing my peaceful hymn 
To Him who gave this life to me, 
And made me happy, glad, and free. 

I'm but a little bird ; 

And yet, my song so clear, 
I think is often heard 

By Him who placed me here. 
I think He loves to hear me sing, 
And takes my little offering. 

So, at the earliest light, 

And when the sun is high, 
And when the shades of night 

Creep softly o'er the sky, 
I still will sing to Him above, 
Who made my life so full of love. 

HERBERT F. ROBINSON. 



39^ PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. [October, 





PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. 

THE BLACK SWANS. 

|HE children at Elmhill were impatient for Miss Wide- 
awake's second story; so, at the first convenient op- 
portunity, she gathered them about her, and gave them 
the following description of some of her old pets : 

" Grandpapa's house," said she, " was a great, rambling affair, 
with lofty rooms, hinting of summer at every step. Not that we 
did not need fires sometimes, and rousing ones too ; but our win- 
ter in Tasmania was very unlike that season in New England. It 
seldom happened that I could not find something pretty for my 
vases in the the garden or woods ; the bees continued their labors, 
merely lying idle three or four days at a time, in especially bad 
weather; and very few plants required a warmer spot than the 
wide veranda, which ran across three sides of the house. 

" A charming place was that veranda, for it was shaded all sum- 
mer by a tangle of passion-flowers, and jessamines, and climbing 
roses, and grape-vines, which, in autumn could hardly hold up 
their great clusters of purple and golden fruit. It was a vast deal 
pleasanter than the drawing-room or library ; and there grandpapa 
read and wrote, while grandmamma and I busied ourselves with 
our needles. 

" I said grandmamma and I ; but the truth is, that I did very 
little work of any kind there, for I was usually too much occupied 
in other ways. No sooner were we fairly seated, than Bruno, with 
ears cocked, and head on one side, begged for a play. He was 
followed by Mrs. Silvertail, who stretched herself lazily in the 
shade, in preparation for a nap. A .great mistake that of Silver- 
tail ; for one, two, or three, teasing, untiring kittens, discovering 
her retreat, half-coaxed, half-drove her to a frolic. Leaping, tum- 
bling, rolling, were tried ; little paws stole around the old neck ; 
little furry balls placed themselves on the panting side ; mischiev- 
ous little teeth snapped at the curling tail, till mamma could not 



1 868.] PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. 



399 



bear it another minute ; and, with vigorous blows, sent her off- 
spring hither and thither, in funny dismay. By that time, the white 
cockatoo a beautiful bird, as large as a common fowl would 
find out the family gathering-place, and waddle along, calling 

* Pretty Cocky ! Pretty Cocky ! ' ' Bruno, get out ! get out ! ' 

* Miaow, miaow ! ' ' Kate ! Kate kiss Cocky ! ' ' Pretty Cocky 
want spool ! ' 

" Yes, Cocky shall have one ; and I wind off the cotton, and 
give him the coveted toy, when he grasps it with his foot, and 
splits it at a single bite. Presently, Cocky ruffles his plumage till 
he looks half as large again as before ; he throws his crest, with 
its double fan of brilliantly yellow feathers, as far forward as pos- 
sible, and spreads and closes it rapidly. His eyes sparkle, and 
he yells fiercely, and flies forward, as if for a tremendous attack. 
Matey the cook, has just stepped on the veranda ; and Cocky, 
having frightened her once, thinks it fine fun to try it again. She 
humors the feathered wag ; puts her hands to her face, and makes 
belief run ; when he laughs merrily, and cries, ' Hurrah ! hurrah ! 
Pretty Cocky, hurrah ! " 

" The magpie had no mind to be overlooked ; and when I was 
kind to Cocky, he drew my attention by singing, in a full, rich 
voice ; and then he hopped up and down, now this way and now 
that, as gaily as my old dancing-master used to do. Cocky was 
jealous ; and I am not sure that I shouldn't have liked the mag- 
pie the best, only that he was such a thief. He stole my scissors, 
and buried them in the garden, without the slightest regard to my 
feelings ; and he carried off my worsteds, and my beads, and my 
gold and silver thread. He was a pleasant fellow, bat with bad 
morals, and a sad companion for Cocky. 

"Wakened by the noise, Drowsy the wombat, trudged along, 
with a heavy, rolling tread, like that of a fat bear. When full- 
grown, he was three feet long, with a large body and short legs. 
His color was much 'like that of the gray cloth which we call 'pep- 
per-and-salt ; ' and his fur was coarse, but long and warm. He 
liked to be taken up, and stroked, and petted ; and he used to 
stand on his hind legs, to beg for the treat. Poor Drowsy ! He 
became too heavy ; and beside, he soiled his paws with overmuch 
digging. A sleepy fellow was Drowsy, and he rejoiced in a soft, 
warm bed. Wherever the quilt hung over the edge of one, he 
climbed by it, and crept in ; and thus often gave us a start when 
we turned down the sheets at night. He hunted after the milk ; 



400 PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. [October, 

and one hot evening, when it was set out to cool, he knocked off 
the covers, drank what he wanted, and took a bath in the rest. 
Oh, how Matey scolded, and how grandmamma laughed ! Three 
different times Tom took Drowsy to the woods, hoping to get rid 
of him ; and each time he found his way back, tired, wet, and hun- 
gry, and begged to be taken in. Grandpapa did not send him 
away again, but he had to be shut up occasionally, he burrowed 
so. I was almost afraid he would undermine the house itself, with 
his holes and passages deep below the surface of the earth. 

"Up in their cage, slept a pair of jerboa kangaroos, night-loving 
little creatures, who cared nothing for sunshine. They were about 
as large as hares, grayish-brown above, grayish-white beneath, with 
a tail which was black on the upper surface. They were my cap- 
tives ; but their nest was so skilfully built, that I should never 
have found it without Tom's help. Tom knew better than anybody 
at Seaview, what went on in the woods, and he told me how the 
mamma jerboa made her nice warm house. First, she sought a 
hollow spot in the earth, which she scooped out until the roof 
would be on 'a level with the ground about it. Then, she hunted 
up some dried grass suitable for her use, made it into a bundle, 
twisted her tail round it, and hopped back with her load. Tin's 
formed the beginning of her roof ; and after placing it properly, 
she went out for more, and still more, until the cavity was com- 
pletely covered. Even then, her cares were not ended. She must 
keep her house, as well as build it ; and so, when her little ones 
were lying cosily within, she never left it, or returned to it, without 
closing the entrance with a tuft of grass. 

" When I was tired of the veranda pets, my glance strayed down 
the lawn, shaded by groups of noble trees, and reached the sea, 
which lay in the distance, its soft blue melting into the softer sky, 
and brightened occasionally by a white sail, which glittered a mo- 
ment, and was gone. The place took its name of Seaview from 
this ocean landscape ; and its ever-changing hues, and grand, per- 
petual chant, had for me a strange, sweet fascination. Grand- 
mamma, who had lost two sons in one of its terrible storms, used 
often to follow the direction of my eye, and whisper softly a favorite 
Bible quotation from St. John's description of the New Jerusalem, 
' And there was no more sea ; ' but I, to whom it brought no sor- 
rowful recollections, could not help hoping that I might find the 
wide, beautiful reach of waters reproduced in the heavenly home. 
The beach was not visible from the veranda ; but I could trace 



1868.] PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. 4 OI 

the line of green which marked the little creek setting inland, and 
dividing Seaview from the next estate, which was called Ferndale, 
and was the property of our dear friends, the Seymours. Charm- 
ing, indeed, was the creek, always playing at being something 
larger and grander than itself; always widening into pretty lakes, 
or sweeping out in lovely curves, or fretting over rocky shallows. 
Here, it lay open to the sky ; there, it was closely arched with 
acacias, which, in their season, roofed themselves with gold, and 
honey-bearing peppermint-trees, whose pyramids of snowy bloom 
were set like vast bunches of pearls in the thick, dark foliage. 
Here, the shores were high and sharp, and carpeted with flowers, 
from the first white lily of spring, to the fragrant yellow oxalis of 
winter ; there, they were low and moist, and bore many kinds of 
broad-leafed water-plants, and rich mosses, and plumy ferns. So, 
we had * The Fairies' Bath,' ' The Roaring Water,' < Mossbay,' and 
' Lilybank ; ' and we talked as grandly about them, as if they had 
been laid down on maps and described in geographies. Better worth 
seeing too, they were, than many more important places ; for there 
the kingfisher, in violet and red, sat on a dead limb, and watched 
for his darting prey ; and parrots filled the water with bright re- 
flections ruby and orange, and blue and green till it seemed 
to flow over a pavement of gems. There came the wattle-bird *a 
lively, restless creature tripping lightly along the branches, care- 
less whether his head were upward or downward, always choosing 
the freshest blossoms, and thrusting his long bill and slender 
tongue into their very hearts for the last drop of the sweet treas- 
ure. Still better company were the cockatoos. Not the white 
ones, which are sad torments, settling by hundreds on the grain- 
fields, and screaming at the very top of their voices, when they do 
not happen to be feeding, or resting after a meal ; but the black 
ones, which confine themselves to worm-eaten trees, and pick 
out the grubs buried under their bark. They are as large as a 
parrot, and as dignified in their movements as a countess at the 
queen's drawing-room. They move daintily about, bowing and 
courtesying, and raising and lowering their golden crests in the 
most comical way imaginable. They were good-tempered and so- 
ciable, feeding in parties, sometimes of a dozen or more in number, 
and talking cheerfully to each other the while. They are usually 
extremely shy; but no one at Seaview was allowed to frighten 
them, so that they were comparatively free and easy there ; and I 
could watch them an hour at a time, by keeping quietly hidden. 



402 PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. [October, 

Their favorite food was a grub, three or four inches long, white and 
smooth, like ivory, which changed to an immense moth of the most 
beautiful plumage, generally of rich browns and grays, but often 
enlivened by large, fresh pink spots on the wings. These grubs 
lay deep in the wood ; and the birds tore away the bark, and then 
made large chips as they dug, such wonderful woodsmen were 
they. I used to translate their conversation, according to their 
tones and gestures, somewhat as follows : 

" < Fine day ! ' 

" ' Yes ; but rather warm ! ' 

" Cheerfully, but a little less briskly ' Hard work, this ! ' 

" Softly and consolingly * It pays well, though ! ' 

" A trifle wearily ' How deep the grubs lie ! ' 

" With sudden animation ' I've* found one ! ' 

" Inquiringly ' Is it sweet ? ' 

" Enthusiastically ' Excellent ! Tastes like an almond ! ' * 

" Affectionately ' Want any help ? ' 

" Vigorously ' No ; I have it ! ' 

" Generously ' Wish you joy ! ' 

" In this creek lived my especial and particular pets, a pair 
of black swans, which were a birthday present from Harry Sey- 
nlour. They were called Duke and Duchess, on acco.unt of their 
noble bearing ; and one of my greatest pleasures was to feed them 
with bread and corn, which they took from my hand in a win- 
ningly trusting and confidential manner. Their plumage was ele- 
gant, being a glossy black ; with a few white feathers in the tail 
and wings, which looked as if a little patch of snow had settled on 
them. Their bills were a brilliant red, like fine coral ; and their 
heads and eyes were very pretty and pleasing. Their note was 
sweet and sad, somewhat like the tone of a harp ; and when they 
called to each other, the sound was enchanting. 

"When I first had them, I thought that there was nothing left 
to ask for j but, like most people, I at length began to wish my 
treasures doubled ; and therefore I was delighted, when, one fine 
October day, the Tasmanian spring, you will remember, I 
heard Duchess say to her husband, ' My dear, we must have a 
nest ! ' 

" To be sure, this communication was made in the swan lan- 
guage ; but I understood it, and spent every leisure moment in 

* A fact 



1868.] PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. 



403 



watching madam at her task, on a low promontory running into the 
creek. She did not show that tender anxiety for the comfort of her 
future offspring, which is manifested by many birds. She didn't 
pluck the down from her body, like the eider duck : or gather the 
velvet of ferns, like the humming-bird ; or sew her materials neatly, 
like the oriole ; or build a roof, like the weaver-bird. No, indeed ; 
she did nothing of the kind. I am almost ashamed to say that 
she merely collected some coarse water-weeds, and put them 
loosely together ; and in that slovenly construction, she laid five 
long eggs, of a pale-green color, tinged with brown, which appeared 
to me much too delicate and important to be trusted in such a 
desolate-looking place. 

" Up to that moment, I had felt nothing but pleasure ; but then 
I began to fidget. I was afraid of sportsmen, for roasted swan is 
excellent eating ; of robbers, who might wish to sell my beauties 
to some distant proprietor of snakes ; of a freshet ; of all sorts 
of possible and impossible dangers. I am sure, if madam had 
been half as uncomfortable about her expected progeny, she could 
not have brought them out successfully ; and I am equally certain 
that the whole household felt relieved, when word was brought to 
1 Miss,' that five cygnets tenanted the little reed home by the creek. 
Snatching my hat, I was out of the house in a twinkling, and 
reached the creek all out of breath, to find, not five lovely black 
baby-swans, as I anticipated, but five white ones, they being 
clad only in the down which all swans wear under their feathers. 
Notwithstanding my amazement, I imagine that I felt richer than 
the mother-bird at sight of them ; my next happiest moment being 
that in which I first saw the stately parents sailing on the crystal 
water, with their family in a pretty train behind them. 

" For three months, I rejoiced in my darlings. Then I went to 
Hobarton for a visit ; and when I returned, the creek was left to 
the keeping of the cockatoos and wattle-birds, the parrots and 
kingfishers. Every one of my pets had been stolen." 

M. G. SLEEPER. 




404 



MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 



[October, 



MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 

VI. THE HANDSOME USURPER RISE OF THE PLANTAGENETS 

A CHANCELLOR TURNED CHURCHMAN A LION RAVAGES 

THE KINGDOM. 




HN "the bark that held a prince went 
down," thus depriving Henry Beauclerc 
of his lawful son, and the destined heir to 
his throne, he sent for his widowed daugh- 
ter, Matilda, Empress of Germany, and 
with great pomp, proclaimed her as his 
successor. Among the mighty nobles pres- 
ent at this ceremonial, the first to bend his 
knee in homage was her Cousin Stephen, 
the young Earl of Blois, who contended 
for that honor with her half-brother, Robert of Gloucester. Ste- 
phen was the son of Adela, the Conqueror's daughter. He was 
the handsomest man in Europe, and distinguished for his knightly 
prowess. The common people loved him, because he never put 
on airs, but was affable and pleasant to all. He was courted and 
caressed by the nobility. He was the especial pet of the king ; 
and if history speaks truly, the heart of the Lady Matilda herself 
was not insensible to his attractions. Unfortunately, Stephen was 
already married ; so, the widowed heiress of England was wedded 
by her father, for reasons of state policy, to a man she never loved. 
This was Geoffrey, son of the powerful Count of Anjou. He had 
long been a favorite with the king, who stood as his godfather, 
and gave him rich gifts when he was knighted ; and I suppose it 
is not to be doubted, that Geoffrey (called Plantagenet, from his 
jaunty fashion of wearing a broom-plant in his cap for a plume), 
was, as the chronicler styles him, " a most elegant young man." 
His manners were graceful, his face and figure fine ; he was 
brave, and, what was more to Fine Scholar's taste, he was 
learned ; but the marriage was an unhappy one, as state mar- 
riages frequently are. In fact, it pleased nobody but the 
king ; for the Anglo -Norman nobles thought he need not have 
gone to France, for a husband for his daughter, without at least 
consulting them \ and the English were indignant, that a princess 
of Saxon descent should be forced to marry against her will. All 
Henry wanted was to keep the crown in the family, and annex to 



l868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 405 

it as much foreign territory as possible ; and after he had made 
his barons reiterate their vows of fealty to Matilda and her infant 
boy, he died contented. 

" When Henry was dead, but before his body was buried," says 
Roger of Wendover, " Stephen, a man of great bravery, tempted 
God, and seized the crown / " and the nobility, in spite of their 
oaths of allegiance to Matilda, gave him a hearty welcome. There 
were several reasons for this. Stephen had always been popular 
with them ; his young and gentle wife, who loved to trace her 
ancestry to the Atheling, had won their hearts by her lovely dis- 
position. They feared Matilda's arrogance, for they knew the 
Conqueror's blood flowed in her veins; and, if the truth must 
be told, they did not relish the idea of a queen-regnant ; for the 
spirit of chivalry was such, that though every one of them would 
have done battle to the deatfTfor her in a tournament, there was 
not one but would have 'thought it a shame, to kneel before a 
woman, and swear to be her " liegeman of life and limb." So, 
Stephen got the crown, and ruled, as far as he was able, with mod- 
eration but his reign is a gloomy picture of the evils of the feudal 
system, relieved only by romantic gleams of chivalry. The chroni- 
cle thus paints it : " They did homage to him, but they no faith 
kept. Every rich man built castles, and defended them against 
the king. The land was filled with castles, and the castles with 
devils and bad men. Then, they seized both men and women, 
and put them in prison, for their gold and silver. They plundered 
and burnt all the towns, so that thou mightst walk a whole day's 
journey, nor ever find a man seated in a town, or its lands tilled. 
The bishops and clergy were ever cursing them ; but this to them 
was nothing, for they were reprobate. The earth bare no corn. 
You might as well have tilled the sea, for the land was ruined, 
and it was said openly, that Christ and the saints slept ; and this 
state of things lasted the nineteen years that Stephen was king, 
and grew ever worse and worse." 

In 1138, a great army of Scotch lances came down to revenge 
Matilda's injuries, led by her uncle, King David, of Scotland. 
The clergy came out nobly for Stephen. The old Archbishop of 
York made a stirring speech to the army, and he let the Bishop 
of Durham command it. So, you see, that bishops were brigadiers 
in those days ; and perhaps that is where Bishop Polk got his 
authority for the good service he did the South lately. 
lish bowmen rallied bravely round the sacred standard (a tall 



406 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [October, 

mast, planted firmly on a great car, from which floated the 
banners of three Saxon saints, surmounted by a crucifix, in 
which was set a silver box containing the holy wafer) ; and 
on the twenty-second day of August, was won the famous 
"Battle of the Standard." It was when Stephen tried to 
humble the power of some rapacious priests, that his reverses 
began. 

Then the clergy went over to the enemy ; the secret partisans 
of Matilda, headed by her half-brother, showed themselves in their 
true colors ; and Matilda, having landed in England, entrenched 
herself at Arundel Castle, where Stephen might easily have made 
her prisoner, .had she not thrown herself upon his protection, and 
made him promise her safe conduct to her brother. That she did 
not fear to trust the honor of him who had broken his oath of fealty 
to her, and that he kept his promise, shows the power of chivalry 
over the men and women of that age. "ill requital, this true and 
loyal knight received for his generosity to his cousin ; for, after 
the battle of Lincoln, in which he was worsted, she kept him a 
close prisoner in Bristol Castle, for the eight months of her reign, 
treating him like a base-born criminal. Her abuse of power was 
such, that the Londoners rebelled, and Stephen's release was 
effected. After this, we hear of her, besieged by the king, in va- 
rious castles. Once, she escapes by being carried out in a coffin ; 
again, all clad in white, to elude detection, she is let down from 
the battlements, on a snowy night, and half-frozen, walks six miles 
over the icy ground to rejoin her friends, but with never a thought 
of yielding her just claim to the throne. At last, Stephen, sad- 
dened by the sufferings of his people, consented that her son 
Henry should share the realm with him, and be his successor ; 
and when, by the death of the king, the young Plantagenet found 
the reins of government fairly within his grasp, he soon showed 
that he had the courage to hold them firmly. He levelled the 
lordly castles, from which rapine and murder had stalked to 
devastate the land, drove home the hired troops of both armies, 
and reclaimed the estates for the crown that had been pillaged 
by both parties. To check the extortions of the church was his 
next endeavor ; and, looking about for a counsellor in the reforms 
he had undertaken, his eye, ever quick to recognize talent, rested 
at once upon the commanding figure of Thomas-a-Becket. Beck- 
et's age was nearly double that of the king ; but he was a man 
of remarkable culture and grace, and already had great influence 



1868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 407 

with the clergy, though he was not bound by any monastic vows. 
Like the king, he was fond of athletic sports ; and both being 
shrewd, earnest, and energetic men, they soon became fast friends. 
Becket was made chancellor ; and, as the chronicle tells the story, 
" The king received him so much into his esteem and familiarity, 
that throughout the kingdom there was no one his equal." There 
was not room at his table for the crowds of knights and nobles 
that flocked to his elegant banquets, and rushes were spread upon 
the floor (carpets were an unknown luxury), so that those who 
sat thereon need not soil their rich apparel. Earls and barons 
counted it an honor, if he would receive their sons as pages and 
esquires ; and the king's son, and the little French princess to 
whom he was betrothed, were both educated by the chancellor. 
Though he loved display, and set before his guests the choicest 
food and the richest wines, served in massive vessels of gold and 
silver, he himself was abstemious in his diet, wore a hair-shirt 
under his fine linen, and slept on a hard bed. He was charitable 
to the poor, kind to the oppressed, a just judge, and a wise minis- 
ter. The Archbishopric of Canterbury was the last honor which 
the king pressed upon his favorite's acceptance. It was to both 
a fatal gift. Often, as they rode together (for both were splendid 
horsemen), and talked over the affairs of the nation, Becket would 
say to Henry, " Do not force me to accept an office in which I 
could not serve you half so well as now. As your prime minister, 
the king is to me the supreme authority ; but, should you make 
me a bishop, the pope must be my sovereign, the church my state : 
what, then, would become of our friendship ? " Had the monarch 
but listened to the counsel of his friend, the reign of the first Plan- 
tagenet would not have had so sad and weak an ending j but he 
trusted too much to his love, too little to his honor ; and he could 
not understand the unswerving sense of duty, which made Becket, 
upon his election to the sacred office, put aside the gay robe of 
the courtier, for the frock of the monk, and him upon whom princes 
had waited, wash the feet of beggars. It would be a sad task, 
even if I had time, to show you all the steps by which the devoted 
love of these two noble men was changed to a hate so deadly, that, 
after years of bitter feud, Henry, beside himself with rage, cried 
out, "Will none of the lazy' cowards whom I feed, rid me of this 
fellow, who came to court on a lame horse, with his estate in a 
wallet on his back ? " And four were found, cowardly enough to 
stab the old man at the altar; and thus, Thomas-a-Becket re- 



408 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [October, 

ceived from Henry Plantagenet the highest honor he had yet 
bestowed, a martyr's crown. 

Remorse, and the rebellion of his sons, embittered the rest of 
Henry's life. * Let all go as it will ! " he cried, when he found 
that John, whom he loved best, had played him false ; and then 
he died. 

Too late a penitent, Richard wept bitterly at his father's bier ; 
and his subsequent conduct showed that his sorrow was sincere. 
The chronicle does not tell us whether he inherited the " lion- 
face " ascribed to Henry ; but his was the lion-heart that inspired 
the third and most brilliant Crusade. Entirely ignorant of the 
Saxon tongue, he spent only eight months of his ten years' reign 
in his kingdom ; and did so little for its improvement, that he 
would hardly be mentioned in the line of English kings, were it 
not that his military glory dazzled the eyes of the historians of 
his time. The monks delight to descant upon the splendor of the 
Crusader, sailing in a gorgeous galley, or going out to single com- 
bat with the fierce Saladin, to decide whether Jesus or Jupiter was 
rightful Lord of all. They show him to us mounted on a Spanish 
charger, with saddle of gold and housings of scarlet, embroidered 
with gold lions rampant, gold spurs on his feet, in his hand a 
golden-hilted blade of proven metal, and wearing a scarlet hat, 
bedecked with birds and beasts in gold, and a rose-colored vest, 
ornamented with crescents of silver. But they forget to add, that 
he bought his outfit by the shameless sale of crown estates, and 
squandered precious earldoms in his own adornment, not scru- 
pling to declare, that he," would sell London too, if he could find 
a buyer." 

One has said of Cceur de Lion, "he was a bad son, a bad 
brother, a bad father, and a bad king ; but then, he was the prince 
and flower of knights-errant ; " and I may add, that the manner 
of his death was a fit sequel to his life. When we read that he 
commanded them to bury him at his father's feet, we think if he 
had only thrown himself there during that father's lifetime, how 
much evil and sorrow would have been saved. 

COUSIN ALICE. 




i868.] 



WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 



409 



WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 



VII. 

N August, grandma and the chil- 
dren went to the sea-side, for a 
visit, and there Will found many 
new and curious things to exam- 
ine and talk about. Polly col- 
lected pretty shells and sea-weed ; 
Will shot peeps and gulls, studied 
ships and light-houses ; and bpth 
splashed, scrambled, and frolicked 
tijl they were as stout, lively, and 
brown as the little fisher-children 
of the bay. 




Grandma us'ed to sit in a comfortable cranny of the rocks, 
knitting or reading, while the young folks played ; and when they 



410 WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. [October, 

grew tired of climbing about, they brought their new-found treas- 
ures to her, and rested, while she told stories about them. 

" I've got a live snail. I picked him off a rock, and wanted to 
see his horns ; but he shut himself up in a great hurry, and I can't 
make him come out," said Will, tapping at the little brown door 
which Mr. Snail had shut in his face. 

" Put him in that pool of water, and let him alone ; then he 
will pop his head out, and you can watch him at your ease," said 
grandma, moving Polly's fleet of clam-shells to make room for the 
snail. 

" Has he got any eyes ? How does he walk ? Can't he ever 
take his shell off? " asked Will, lying down on the warm rock, to 
enjoy his luncheon as luxuriously as possible. 

" Yes ; he has eyes at the ends of his two longest horns. They 
look like two black dots ; but they are regular eyes, and the snail 
can move them to and fro, or draw them out of sight, as it likes. 
Under the two smaller horns is its mouth ; and though it seems 
too soft to bite anything, yet it has eight teeth, and chews leaves, 
and even bites bits off its own shell with them." 

" Is it true that they can mend their shells ? I trod on one once, 
and father said the snail would rrtend it if I let it be," said Polly, 
who was making paper sailors to man her pretty white boats. 

" They have a slimy substance which hardens when exposed to 
the air, and with this they mend their broken shells. Even when 
they seemed crushed to pieces, they can repair the damage, though 
you can see the places which they mend, for the new shell is 
fresher than the old ; so, the little patches show. They can't grow 
an entirely fresh shell, however, for the experiment was tried, and 
failed. Swammerdom carefully took off a shell, and hoped the 
snail would make a new one. The poor thing tried, but died of 
cold before it was half done." 

" Are these little ones the baby-snails ? " asked Will, fishing up 
some tiny white shells from the pool. 

" I think so. The old ones lay eggs as big as small peas, and 
put them under a clod of earth, or in some cool, moist place. 
From these eggs are hatched little snails, with their houses all 
ready on their backs. That sort is the garden-snail. I don't 
know about the sea-snails, but fancy they are a good deal alike. 
This kind do harm among the plants, spoiling fruit and young 
leaves. Another sort are very large, and used to be eaten in 
Rome. They had snaileries, called Cochlearia, where these crea- 



i868.] WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 411 

tures were kept, and fed on bran and wine, and when fat enough, 
boiled or fried, and considered great delicacies." 

" Don't believe I should like the slimy things. I'm afraid my 
big one is dead ; it don't stir," said Will, poking the snail, who 
appeared to have shut up his house for the season. 

" Don't be impatient ; he'll come when he is ready. No fear of 
his being dead ; for snails can bear a good deal, if all the stories 
are true. My old book gives two anecdotes, -which may interest 
you. One is of a man, who kept some snails for fifteen years, and 
then gave them to his little son to play with, supposing that of 
course the creatures were dead long ago. The boy put them in a 
basin of water, and left them there. Next day, he came running 
to tell his father that the shells were walking about the sides of 
the bowl. M. Simon could not believe it j but, as they lived in 
the city, he knew the boy could not have found any other snails ; 
and, strange as it seemed, there were the old ones, promenading 
round the basin, as lively as possible, after their fifteen years' nap. 
They were kept and shown as great curiosities ; and if the tale 
was true, they certainly were remarkable snails. Another person 
was making a shell-tower for an ornament ; and finding her pretty 
pebbles and sea-shells gave out, she went into the garden, and got 
a handful of snails. In order to kill them before sticking them on 
the tower, she poured boiling water over them, and set the bowl 
away with her other things, to be ready to finish the work next 
day. But, when she went to the place in the morning, instead of 
being dead, the snails were out of the basin, sticking all about the 
table, some examining the tower, and others actually eating the 
paste that they were to be stuck on with. Having a kind heart, 
the lady picked them all up, and carried them back to the garden, 
finishing her work with less pretty shells, rather than be cruel 
enough to boil the poor snails over again." 

" Tell about the little seal we saw down on the wharf. The 
man keeps him in a great cask, and feeds him with fish ; and he's 
very funny, with no ears, and big eyes, and only two flippers, or 
feet. I poked him, and he made a queer noise, and dived out of 
sight. But presently, he popped his head up, and winked at us, 
and wiggled his nose, as he wanted more fish. I asked the man 
lots of questions ; but he only said he caught little Jack in the bay. 

As Polly stopped for breath, grandpa replied, " The common 
seal is called the sea-calf, and inhabit all the European seas. 
They are very large, some of them, with round heads, pretty black 



412 WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. [October, 

eyes, and no visible ears. The front legs are very short, and the 
back ones are only used in swimming, being close to the tail. 
They live on fish ; in summer, going on shore a good deal, but 
taking to the sea in winter. They swim and dive very swiftly, 
and are hunted for their skins and oil. The Greenlanders could 
hardly get on without them, they are so useful in many ways. 
The flesh serves for food ; the fat makes oil for lamps, fires, and 
cooking ; the fibres of the sinews are used for thread ; the skin% 
for carpets, clothes, tents, and boat-coverings ; and of the bones, 
they make tools of all sorts." 

" How do they hunt them ? " asked Will, with his mouth full. 

" The men go at night to the caves where the seals live in great 
numbers. Armed with torches, they row in as far as they can, 
and getting into good places, begin to shout all at once. This 
wakes and frightens the seals, who rush out as fast as they can, 
and in the confusion are easily killed by striking them on tne nose, 
where a slight blow soon finishes them.. 

"The Ursine seals live in the neighborhood of Kamtchatka. 
They are very large and fierce, and fight bravely before they can 
be taken. They live in families, and are very affectionate. The 
cubs are as playful as puppies, and have mock-fights ; while the 
parents look on with pleasure, caressing those who win. They 
make a loud noise when angry ; low like a cow, when happy ; and 
wail dismally if sick or wounded. Some kinds are easily tamed, 
and will learn to love and follow a master, like dogs. I saw one 
once who went creeping about the house when it liked to get out 
of its tub. It would kiss its keeper with a funny little smack, sigh 
and shed tears when he left it, and play several tricks if ordered. 
It fell ill, and its pretty eyes were very pathetic as they followed 
us about, seeming to ask help. We could do nothing for it, and 
it died ; but my friend kept its skin, which was as soft as velvet. 

" I shall enjoy seeing Jack more than ever, now I know some- 
thing about him. I'm afraid he's homesick, for he sighs and looks 
as if he wanted his mother. I shall ask the man to let him go ; 
and if he won't, I'll get papa to buy Jack, and then we'll let him 
swim away." 

Will was so interested in Polly's plan about the seal, that he 
forgot to look at his snail, till grandma told him the little gentle- 
man was out ; and there he was, sure enough, moving his horns 
about, and creeping slowly toward a clam-shell, as if anxious to 
get aboard, and sail home to his native pool. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 



413 



XBNT 




CHRISTIAN HEROISM. The fol- 
lowing most touching story is told 
by Bishop Kelly, of Newfoundland, 
who heard it from one of the sur- 
vivors of the terrible storm on the 
coast of Labrador, last October. 

The bishop makes his missionary 
journeys along the dangerous shores 
' of Newfoundland and Labrador in 
a " Church-ship," which has weath- 
ered many storms. This true tale 
of Christian heroism shows that 
the teaching of the missionaries 
has not been in vain. 

" A poor boy, whose name no 
one knows, but we may be sure that 
it is in the Book of Life, found three 
little children, who, like himself, 
had been washed ashore from one 
of the many wrecks, and they were 
wandering along that dreary coast 
in the driving sleet. They were 
crying bitterly, having been parted 
from their parents, and not know- 
ing whether they were drowned or 
saved. The poor lad took them to 
a sheltered spot, plucked moss for 
them, and made them a rude but 
soft bed ; and then, taking off his 
own coat to cover them, he sat by 
them all the night long, soothing 
their terror, until they fell as'leep. 

" In the morning, leaving them 
still sleeping, he went in search of 
the parents, and to his great joy, 
met them looking for their children, 
whom they had given up fqr dead. 



" He directed them where to find 
them, and then he went on himself 
to try to find some place of shelter 
and refreshment. But, when the 
parents were returning with their 
recovered little ones, they found 
their brave preserver lying quite 
dead upon the snow, not far from 
where they parted from him. The 
long exposure in his exhausted state 
was too much for his strength, 
and having saved his little charge, 
a stranger to them, as they to 
him, he lay down to die. * Greater 
love hath no man than this.' " 

LITTLE THINGS. Springs are 
little things, but they are sources 
of large streams ; a helm is a little 
thing, but it governs the course of 
a ship ; a bridle-bit is a little thing, 
but see its use and powers ; nails 
and pegs are little things, but they 
hold the parts of a large building 
together ; a word, a look, a smile, 
a frown, are all little things, but 
powerful for good or evil. Think 
of this, and mind the little things. 
Pay that little debt ; if it is a prom- 
ise, redeem it ; if it is a shilling, 
hand it over. You know not what 
important events hang upon it. 
Keep your word sacred, keep it to 
children ; they will mark it sooner 
than any one else, and the effects 
will probably be as lasting as life. 
Mind the little things. 



414 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 



[October, 



STRAW BONNETS. The advent 
of bonnets of wheat and barley- 
straw, ornamented with sheaves of 
grain, which first made their ap- 
pearance in the streets of London, 
in 1817, seems to have been met 
with a crusade of ridicule as great 
as that which has since greeted the 
more modern innovation of hoofis. 
The' following stanzas, written at 
that time, will show the kind of 
ordeal they had to pass through 
before their ultimate triumph : 

" Who now of threatening famine 

dare complain, 
When every female forehead 

teems with grain ; 
See how the wheat-sheaves nod 

amid the plumes, 
Our barns are now transferred to 

drawing-rooms ; 
And husbands, who indulge in 

active lives, 
To fill their granaries, may thresh 

their wives." 

TRAVELLING STONES. Thfey 
have walking stones in Australia, 
and, as we are informed, they have 
travelling stones in Nevada. Here 
is a description : 

"They were almost perfectly 
round, the majority of them as 
large as a walnut, and of an irony 
nature. When distributed about 
upon the floor, table, or any other 
level surface, within two or three feet 
of each other, they immediately be- 
gan travelling toward a common 
centre, and there huddle up in a 
bunch, like a lot of eggs in a nest. 
A single stone, removed to a dis- 
tance of three and a half feet, upon 
being released, at once started off 
with wonderful and somewhat comi- 
cal celerity to rejoin its fellows ; taken 
away four or five feet, it remained 
motionless. They are found in a 
region, that, although comparatively 
level, is nothing but barren rock. 
Scattered over this barren region 
are little basins, from a few feet to 
a rod or two in diameter, and it is 
in the bottom of these that the roll- 
ing-stones are found They are 
from the size of a pea to five and 



six inches in diameter. The cause 
of these stones rolling together is 
doubtless to be found in the mate- 
rial of which they are composed, 
which appears to be loadstone, or 
magnetic iron ore." 

A GOOD RULE. A certain man, 
who is very rich now, was very 
poor when he was a boy. When 
asked how he got his riches, he 
said, " My father taught me never 
to play till my work was finished, 
and never to spend my money until 
I had earned it. If I had but an 
hour's work in a day, I must do 
that the first thing, and in an hour. 
And after this I was allowed to 
play ; and then I could play with 
much more pleasure than if I had 
the thought of an unfinished task 
before my mind. I early formed 
the habit of doing everything in 
time, and it soon became easy to 
do so. It is to this I owe my pros- 
perity." 

" PAPA, please buy me a muff 
when you go to Boston," said little 
three-year-old Ruth. Her sister 
Minnie, hearing this, said, 

" You are too little to have a 
muff." 

"Am I too little to be cold?" 
rejoined the indignant little Ruth. 

THE length of England, from 
Berwick to Land's End, is esti- 
mated 'at four hundred and twenty- 
six miles. 

WHY does the fish-hawk build 
its nest in a tree ? Because it can 
always find a perch there. 

MAKE not an idol of your clothes, 
and you will not be enraged with 
the thief. 

ONE good act is worth two good 
promises. 

A HANDFUL of good life is better 
than a bushel of learning. 

WILD rosemary is said to keep 
away mosquitoes. 

A WARLIKE tune pon-t6on. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



415 




answers correctly the greatest num- 
ber of the August puzzles, and wins 
his first prize. 

QUESTIONS, ENIGMAS, CHARADES, 

ETC. 



271, 



DOUBLE ACROSTIC 

Foundation Words. 



We travel onward, hand in hand, 
We are your friends indeed ; 

If we were banished from the land, 
You'd have no books to read. 

First Word. 

Hidden in a secret place, 
I'm a very wondrous thing ; 

Would you think that flowery grace 
From my littleness could spring ? 



Second Word. 
I think that you must know me well, 

You all have read about me ; 
And though I my own praises .tell, 

No library without me 
Would be complete, for girl or 'boy. 

Can you now guess my name ? 
Since I have given you many a joy, 

And brought the author fame ? 

Third Word. 

I was one of some islands, grouped 

lovely and bright, 
On the calmest of oceans repos- 
ing; 
And I sprang with rejoicing to 

knowledge and light, 
While my sisters in stupor were 
dozing. 

Fourth Word. 

Now shout aloud, ye merry wits, 

And tell me who I am ; 
Your uncle, true ; but what name 
hits ? 

Tom, Dick, or Will, or Sam ? 

Fifth Word. 

Oh, fie ! You need not turn away, 

And say you cannot eat 
My dainty morsel ; others say 

That I am surely fit, 
A dish to set before the king. 

Now, can you choicer viands 

E.O.P. 



416 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[October, 



272. A very curious thing am I, 

I'm sometimes^ found in 

dreams ; 
The farmer sees me in the 

sky 
And in the murmuring 

streams ; 
The maiden, in her lover's 

face 

Will see me, and will smile ; 
The mother, in her child's dis- 
grace, 
Sees me, and weeps the 

while ; 
The old man feels me in his 

bones, 

The young man in his mus- 
cle; 

I'm heard sometimes in thun- 
der-tones, 

And sometimes in a rustle. 
I'm tangible ; and yet, in fact, 

I am intangible ; 
As Nature's laws, firm and 

intact, 
And yet, I'm frangible. 

A.S. 

273. I am composed of 18 letters : 
My 3, 4, 10, 6, is one of life's 

greatest blessings. 
My n, 17, 13, is a fragment 
My 7, i, 8, 12, 5, is a fabric 
My 6, i, 7, 15, is part of a 

ship. 

My 2, 9, 1 8, is a recluse. 
My 14, 9, 15, is a kind o 

dwelling. 
My whole is the man we wan 

for our next president. 

Alfred D. F 

274. My first is part of the body 

my second is a girl's nick 
name ; my third is uncom 
fortable ; my fourth is an 
interjection ; and my whoL 
is an animal. 

Ixia 

275. My first is an animal ; m_ 

second is a part of him 
and my whole is the nam 
of a lake in the Unite 
States. 

Wolverine 



FILL THE FOLLOWING BLANKS WITH 
THE SAME WORDS TRANSPOSED : 



76. Some 



of 



robbed 



-, but did not leave 
- on him. Fred. 

277. I have an in arm. 

F. F. 

278. exclaimed ! . Cis. 

279. The flew . Belle. 

ANAGRAMS. 

280. Rip marine isle. Joe Kose. 

281. Indian's merci. Charlie. 

282. Dob's dance. Ned W. 

283. Lily C. Rancid. Bob. 

284. Transpose an animal into a 

perfume. 

285. Transpose a bird into part of 

the body. Fred. 

286. Entire, I am an article of food ; 

curtail and transpose, and I 

am an animal ; behead again, 

and I am part of the body. 

Snow Drift. 

287. Behead an implement, and 

leave a dwelling ; behead 
again, and transpose, and 
leave what we all love ; cur- 
tail, and transpose, and leave 
an abbreviation ; behead, and 
transpose again, and leave an 
exclamation ; behead again, 
and leave another exclama- 
tion. Cis. 

WORDS ENIGMATICALLY EX- 
PRESSED. 

288. Don't be so scared. Charlie. 

289. Play upon words mildly. 

Joe Kose. 

290. Twice tardy. Belle. 

291. Beneath mortar. Ned. W. 

292. 300*50500100250 E. W. W. 

293. 8050020001180. Max. 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



417 



294. 





>tfr 



Aunt Sue. 



295. Make sense, of the following puzzle : 



ILRFRTY LS Cl OPLOUS 



EFBLRFT FS GEURFUOS 



nswers must reach me before the $th of November. Those re- 
ceived later will not be credited. 

S3P Send all communications intended for the PUZZLE DRAWER to 
"Aunt Sue," Box in, P. O., Brooklyn, N. Y. 



ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN AUGUST 
NUMBER. 

211. All is not gold that glitters. 

212. Carlisle. 

213. What you now read. 

214. Ton. 



215. She's long in her face, 

She's fine in her form ; 
She'll quickly get fat, 

Without cake or corn. 
She's clean in her jaws, 

And full in her chine ; 
She's heavy in flank, 

And wide in her loin. 



4i8 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[October, 



216. Waterloo. 




217. Cedar Falls. 




218. Bedford. 


1 


219. Council Bluffs. 




220. There, here ; never, ever. 




221. Miasm, Siam. 




222. Clematis. 




223. Tuberose. 




224. Shamrock. 




225. Barbacan. 




226. Insinuate. 




227. Attainability. 




228. Amuse. 




229. Mendacity. 




230. Spaniards. 




231. Thoroughness. 




232. Saturated. 




233. Sensibilities. 




234. Patrician. 




235. Cider, cried. 




236. Codicil. 




237. Coxcomb. 




238. Exceed (X C d). 




239. Venture on nothing till 
have well thought on 
end. 


you 
the 


Of the above Puzzles, 




Chester answers all but 222, 
239- 


225, 


Belle answers all but 222, 223, 
239- 


225, 


Max answers all but 221, 225, 
238. 


231, 


Robbie Eddotves answers all 


but 


221, 222. 230, 238. 





F. R. S. answers all but 221, 222, 
225, 230, 238. 

C. W J. answers all but 212, 219, 

221, 227, 230, 239. 

Ixia answers all but 221, 223, 225, 

227, 230, 233, 239. 

Clara answers all but 221, 222, 223, 
225, 230, 231, 232, 233, 234, 
237, 239. . 

Z. T. Hedges answers 211, 212, 213, 
214, 215, 216, 217, 218, 219, 

228, 229, 234, 235, 236, 238. 

Pussie answers 211, 212, 213, 222, 

229, 230, 231, 232, 233, 234. 

Charlie C. answers 211, 212, 213, 

214, 215, 217, 219, 226, 235. 

Fanny Fern Marble answers 212, 
213, 217, 218, 219, 235. 

Kitty Hunt answers 211, 212, 213, 

215, 217, 219. 



NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 

Forrest. Thanks for your kind 
words. I am glad you liked the 
pen. Your remarks concerning 
the futility of cutting off one's 
own nose, are eminently sensible ; 
yet, how many there are who do 
indulge in that style of amputation, 
and then go about whimpering, and 
blaming others for the deed. 

Z. T. Hedges. Thanks for your 
nice budget of puzzles. I will ex- 
change photographs with much plea- 
sure. A " true name," or a nom de 
plume, is entirely optional with the 
writer. 

Clara. Your pleasant messages 
are inspiring. I credit you with 

" 228 " for its ingenuity. ^ 

Auntie. Webster says, "as a 
numeral, E stands for 250." And 
" among the ancients, A was a nu- 
meral denoting 500." In puzzle 
No. 207, the second "8" should 
have been a " 5." 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



419 



Lula. Did you receive the miss- 
ing numbers ? 

Lula, lives in Mississippi, and 
sends an interesting letter, in which 
she says, " I raised six beautiful 
chickens, intending to sell them, to 
get money to pay for Merry^s Mu- 
seum for this year ; but pa was so 
sick, that they were all taken to 
make soup for him ; but ma says 
she will pay me for them as soon as 
she can spare the money. My dear 
pa is dead now, and we have -no 
one to give us any money. 

" I do wish you would send the 
missing numbers, for I want so 
much to hear all about ' Little 
Pearl." Lula's mother adds: 

" I am exceedingly anxious that 
my little daughter, who is not eight 
years old, should continue to take 
your magazine, which we all prize. 
But I am poor, and fear I cannot 
afford it. The war has reduced us 
from affluence to penury. Still, my 
child must be educated, and I prize 
your book as one of my helps. My 
oldest daughter took it before the 
war, and the numbers are often 
read by all the children. 

" I enclose one dollar, which will 
pay something more than what is 
now due. If I can, I ^will renew 
Lula's subscription be'fore Janu- 
ary. Do, please, send the missing 
numbers. She speaks of Little 
Pearl so frequently ; and it would 
afford you real pleasure to witness 
the joy of the children when the 
Museum comes. We live sixteen 
miles from the post-office, and I 
write before day, having an oppor- 
tunity to send." 

Hugh Howard. Do you wish to 
have your last "alias" signed to 
the rebus ? 

Coy. Long may it be ere that 
" lafct ' link' be broken." See re- 
marks to "A untie." 

T. H. Logan. Yes ; I can cheer- 
fully recommend the " Novelty Mi- 
croscope." I carry it in my pocket, 
and enjoy many a treat through its 
silent but eloquent instructions. 



One can be mailed to you for 
$2.15, by addressing "John Hall, 
Bergen, Hudson Co., N. J." 

Pussie. Come again next month. 

Vincent. Write just as often as 
you choose, and ask as many ques- 
tions as you like. I am always 
glad to hear from you. I never 
see or hear from the young lady 
you enquire about : am glad you 
like your new acquaintance. 

C. M. E. Thanks for the auto- 
biography. Shall always be glad to 
see you. 

Fanny Fern Marble. I am glad 
you have such a kind brother. An- 
agrams should only embrace the 
letters which are used in the origi- 
nal word. You cannot transpose 
"rats" into" star s." 

Charlie C. You are very wel- 
come. 

" John's Mother" I always give 
"credit" for solutions which an- 
swer all requirements, although 
they may not be the original an- 
swers. For instance, I credit 
' Water lily " to (223) ; but I cannot 
credit " Fish-kettle " to (225). No 
apology necessary for the " blun- 
ders." I rather enjoy them. 

Chester. You left out one im- 
portant word in answering the re- 
bus. It seemed almost unkind not 
to credit you with 239 ; but how 
could I, if the answer were imper- 
fect ? As you have already had 
the heart-puzzle in your family, I 
shall be happy to send you some- 
thing else equivalent, if you will 
name your wishes on the subject. 

Joe Kose. . Accept my sympa- 
thies. Did you take drops 'on the 
occasion ? They might have had 
a Joe-vial tendency, I am sorry 
that I cannot "answer" for you 
this month. 

Thanks for enigmas, etc., to 
Clara, Dictator, Coy, Auntie, Vin- 
cent, Hugh Howard, Fanny Fern 
Marble, and Charlie C. 



420 MERRY'S MONTHLY CHAT WITH HIS FRIENDS. [October, 




A RED leaf fluttering in at the 
door, reminds us that October is 
come, with its apple-picking, nut- 
ting, husking and harvesting frolics 
for country-folk ; and for city peo- 
ple, the pleasant home-coming, with 
healthy, brown faces, good appe- 
tites, and happy recollections of 
the summer holidays. 

Every one ought to have a little 
harvest of his own, showing that 
something has been planted and 
tended through the summer, in 
garden, heart, or life, and is now 
ready to bear fruit, making autumn 
a hopeful, rather than a melancholy 
season. 

I once knew a little old woman, 
who lived in a little old house, with 
one little old apple-tree and a sage- 
bed belonging to it. Every spring, 
she rejoiced over her apple-blos- 
soms and purple sage flowers ; and 
every autumn, she gratefully gath- 
ered in her one bushel of fruit, and 
tied up her little bunch of herbs, 
contented with her harvest, for .she 
had done her best to increase it. 
Seeing this, always reminded her 
neighbor to go and do likewise, 



that her own crops might be as 
well worth the harvesting. 

A satisfactory little crop of good 
words and wishes for MERRY'S MU- 
SEUM, seems to have sprung up 
during ^ the year, to judge from va- 
rious signs ; and a most energetic 
sowing and reaping of pleasure and 
profit is planned for the coming 
months. 

IN Grecian Mythology, Minos 
(See "Story of Glaucus "), was a 
son of Europa and Zeus. He is 
said to have been King of Crete, 
and after his death, to have become 
one of the judges of the dead. He 
is the same as the Indian Manu, 
the son of Brahma. 

WE are sure our boys will thank 
Mr. Loomis for the spirited decla- 
mation he has written for them in 
this number. 

It is our intention to publish, 
from time to time, original and se- 
lected declamations and dialogues 
for the Merry Circle. 

W. L. We do not care to pub- 
lish your " new tricks with cards," 
and advise you to make better use 
of your time. 

A. W. Your lines will not do. 
Learn to write prose, before you 
attempt poetry. 




VOL. I.] 



NO VEMBER, 1868. 



[NO. ii. 




JACKO. 

A TRUE STORY. 



RYANT had a monkey which his sailor 
brother had brought him from " that 

/ land of wonders," the island of Java. 
Its name was Jacko, and it was of the 
short-tailed species. Some monkeys 
have no tails ; others have short, and 
others long tails. To distinguish these, 
the no-tailed monkey is commonly 
called an ape ; the one with a short 
tail, a baboon ; and the long-tailed 
one, a monkey. So, you see, that 

^when "The monkey married the ba- 
boon's sister," he did not go out of 
the family, but took his cousin as his 
wife ; and, if we may credit the rhyme, 
was exceedingly fond of her, though 
his way of showing it was rather bois- 
terous. Now, you must know that the 
monkey is not a quadruped, like other 
animals ; nor is he two-legged and 
two-handed, like man ; but his feet are 
all hands, though his fingers are not 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by H. B. FULLER, in the Clerk's 
Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



422 JACKO. [November, 

all thumbs, as we sometimes say of those of a clumsy boy, for he 
uses them very dexterously ; and his long tail serves as a sort of 
fifth hand. 

There are many varieties of the monkey-tribe. Those of the Old 
World are not at all like those of the New. In South America, 
there is a kind called the Howler, that often terrifies the traveller 
with his frightful noise. Another, called the Spider monkey, hooks 
his tail to the branch of a tree, and drops down upon you, like a 
great black spider, swinging from his web. Then, there is the 
Weeper monkey, with its plaintive ciy, like that of a human being ; 
and the Capuchin monkey, with an ashy-pale face, and a black 
crown, like a monk's cowl. In Africa, there is the King monkey, 
whose head is covered with long flowing hair, like a wig ; and the 
Variegated monkey, who, by the way, is a notorious gamb'ler (gam- 
boiler] and blackleg, with brown body, green head, and yellow 
cheeks ; and the Diana monkey, with a white crescent on its fore- 
head. The Negro monkey, with soft and silky black hair, is a 
native of Java, and is hunted for his fur by the inhabitants. 

Jacko, as I have said, was born in the wonderful land of Java. 
He was rather a wild* young monkey, and, I dare say, had run 
away from home, unbeknown to his mother, when he was caught 
by a sailor, who had leave to go ashore, and impressed as a sea- 
man on board the vessel of which Bryant's brother was mate. 
Poor little Jacko ! When he found himself chained to the deck, 
the laughing-stock of the jolly tars, I don't doubt he repented of 
his naughtiness, and resolved never to do so again, if he could 
once get back to his beautiful forest home. He behaved pretty 
\vell on the passage, except when John Chinaman attempted to 
come up from below, for a little fresh air. At sight of his pig-tail, 
which I suppose- Jacko considered an encroachment upon mon- 
key's rights, he would fly into a tearing passion. Once or twice 
too, he got loose, and running up aloft, slyly let go a rope. 
Then down rattled the heavy sail, and up sprang the sailors at 
the command of the mate, to make all right again ; and there 
sat Jacko on a spar, as demurely as if he had nothing to do 
with the mischief. It was late in autumn when Jacko landed in 
America, and that winter he suffered much from the cold. He 
had never seen the snow before, and it made him melancholy. 
Bryant was very kind to him, and gave him a warm bed ; but 
he sat most of the time, crouched in a little closet, close by the 
kitchen-fire, and was the most homesick-looking monkey you ever 



i868.] JACKO. 423 

saw. When the spring came, he recovered his spirits ; and the 
pranks he played then kept the whole household in commotion. 
He would snap his chain, and scamper to the top of a great elm- 
tree that stood in the yard ; and up after him would go Bryant 
and his brothers, to the detriment of their pantaloons, and the 
discomfort of their good mother, who had them to patch ; and 
just as they reached the limb where Jacko sat, off he would jump 
to the next tree, and grin and chatter, as much as to say, " Don't 
you wish you could ? " 

Bryant's father had a fine orchard, and was very proud of his 
fruit. He often used to lead us children from tree to tree, care- 
fully picking for us the handsomest apples ; but no sooner were 
our backs turned, than Jacko, who had watched the performance, 
would mount the tree, and shake down a golden shower of the 
precious fruit. 

One day, the family was startled by a terrible noise, like the 
falling of a chimney. They rushed upstairs, and opened the 
door leading to the garret, when down tumbled boxes, barrels, 
everything movable, and much that till then had been thought 
immovable. When at length a passage was cleared, Jacko, the 
author of all the confusion, was discovered, making his escape 
through the window to the great pippin-tree by which he had 
entered. It seemed as if he had been seized with a sudden spirit 
of enquiry. The cradle was rocking in a corner of the garret, as 
it had not rocked since Bryant was a baby. Round and round 
buzzed the great spinning-wheel, as it had not worked since the 
days when the yarn for his little socks was spun. The farmer's 
seed-corn was shelled and ground and sifted, by the nimble jaws 
and paws of the monkey-miller ; and the house-mother's hops and 
sage and sweet-marjoram mingled their odors in a promiscuous 
heap upon the floor. All the almanacs, from the first number of 
the " Old Farmer's/'' gave evidence of recent consultation ; news- 
papers had been opened, and their contents literally devoured. 
But what seemed to have been the special object of his spite, or 
fancy (for his friends have never been able to determine whether 
he was moved to their destruction by his disapproval of the politi- 
cal articles therein contained, or his hunger for literary food), was 
two bound volumes of the New-England Galaxy, a paper printed 
in Boston, many years ago. 

How long it took to bring order out of Jacko's chaos, and how 
much longer to catch him after one of his escapades, I cannot 



424 JACKO. [November, 

stop to tell ; but this is a specimen of the wild life of Bryant's 
monkey for two years. Then he was seized with a sudden ill- 
ness. He did not seem to suffer violent pain ; but he would not 
eat, and turned upon his friends, who strove to comfort him, a 
helpless, and sorrowful, pleading look, whose pathos touched their 
hearts for the poor little prisoner. Then he died, and was buried 
tenderly at the foot of the great apple-tree, where he had frolicked 
so gaily ; but, as Bryant patted the last sod on the little fellow's 
grave, he told his brother that he never wanted another pet of 
that kind ; for he had been thinking, during Jacko's illness, that 
it was rather a cruel thing to take a merry little monkey from its 
free, playful life in the tropics, and bring him in chains to our 
bleak northern clime. 

" Mischievous as a monkey," is a proverb everywhere ; and the 
monkey never belies the proverb. Another friend of mine had 
one, whose favorite exploit was, with one blow of his long arm, to 
sweep the mantle clear of all its ornaments ; and when bust, and 
bronze, and Bohemian-ware lay in fragments at her feet, and she 
turned to chastise the malicious imp, he would turn the tables 
upon her, by winding her up in his chain ; and there, as if encir- 
cled by the coils of an anaconda, she would have to stand, till 
some member of the family came to her relief. Yet, with all his 
wickedness, the monkey, of all animals, most closely resembles 
man ; and I have heard the great naturalist of Cambridge say, 
that he could not suppress a shudder at the sense of horrible 
relationship he felt, when a young monkey, at the Jardin des 
Plantes, put his arm about his neck. The same gentleman tells 
the following anecdote, which shows the wonderful instinct of 
these imitative little animals: He had been amusing himself with 
a game of ball with the monkey, who promptly returned the pro- 
fessor's pitch, when the latter quickly substituted for the ball a 
small cocoa-nut. The monkey paused, held it to his ear and 
shook it, and detecting the cheat, threw it with all his might to 
the ground ; and having thus cracked the shell, eagerly drank 
up its milky contents. COUSIN ALICE. 




i868.] 



UNDER THE ICE. 



425 



UNDER THE ICE; OR, THE LOST IBEX-HUNTER. 




,HERE was 
no braver 
guide, or 
more skil- 
ful" hunter, that ever set foot upon 
the Matterhorn, or crawled over the 
dangerous glaciers of Monte Rosa, than 
Ulric Peterson. He was a man of immense strength and great 
daring ; and had often tracked the wilderness of snow when those 
who followed the same calling willingly remained in their cottages 
in the well-protected villages. He laughed at his companions, 
when they talked of danger ; and made light of the fears of his 
good-wife, when she trembled at the howling of the fierce winds, 
or the avalanche of snow, that now and then swept down, with 
irresistible force, upon the little chalets. With well-spiked shoes, 
a stout alpenstock, confidence in himself, and a firm and fervent 
trust in God, he avowed that a man was as safe upon the topmost 
cliffs of the cloud-piercing Matterhorn, as in the brook-threaded 
valley of Tourmanches. But the timid heart of womanhood could 
not look upon the matter in the same light, although her trust in 
the good Lord was equally strong ; and so, when she saw him 
taking down his trusty rifle, powder-horn, and heavily-shod iron 
staff, one morning, she clung to him, and begged that he would not 
go upon the mountains. " There is every sign of a storm," she 
said. " You know how terrible they are. We have food enough 
in the cottage. Do stay at home with me and the little ones." 

" That would I, wife," was the reply, " if I had not seen an ibex 
as I was coming home, yesterday evening. He was a stout old' 
fellow, with huge horns ; and I fancied he was almost laughing at 
me, as I crept around the cliff upon which he was standing." 



426 UNDER THE ICE j OR, [November, 

" But, Ulric, think of the storm that is certainly coming." 

" I have been in many an one, and care nothing for them. I 
love the free whistling of the wind upon the mountain-tops, and 
the whirling of the feathery snow. So, good-wife, get me some- 
thing to eat. I must be off before the day dawns." 

With a heavy sigh, the woman did as he had requested ; and 
with his fond kiss still lingering upon her lips, she saw him climb 
the mountain-side, until a turn in the path hid him from her view. 
Then she sank upon her knees, by the bedside of her still slumber- 
ing children, and committed him into the keeping of that God who 
had thus far preserved him in the midst of every danger. Mean- 
time, Ulric hastened onward with a light foot. It was still dark 
in the valley ; but far above him, he could see the white peaks 
glittering in the dim light of the morning, and the fast paling 
stars. Higher and higher, he climbed ; and soon the sun arose, 
shedding its rays of rosy gold upon the icy piles, and making 
them flash as if builded of myriad diamonds. To a stranger, it 
would have been a dazzling sight ; to the brave hunter, it had 
lost something of its charm by familiarity, and he pressed onward 
and upward. The road grew more rough and difficult. He was 
obliged to pick his way, to clamber up steep crags ; but at last, 
he reached the edge of a large glacier. He sat down, and rested 
for a little time, satisfied his hunger, examined his shoes and the 
point of his alpenstock, and again set bravely forth, leaping the 
yawning chasms, and guarding against the treacherous cracks. 

A wall of polished ice arose before him, and he knew that he 
would have to scale it, before he could get within shot of the 
coveted game. With great difficulty, it was accomplished ; and, 
finding the tracks of the ibex, he followed them, until, suddenly 
turning a ragged point, he found himself within easy shot, and in 
an instant, the report of his rifle had awakened the echoes of the 
mountains. With the " thud " of the bullet, the beast sprang for- 
ward ; but its tail was drooped, its head hanging heavily down, 
its gait slow, and step uncertain. He knew that the whizzing lead 
had reached its mark ; that the animal would soon die ; and he 
paused to reload his rifle, before he followed him. " I will sur- 
prise my good-wife," he thought, " by returning sooner than she 
expected ; and I will have a hearty laugh at the cowards who 
dared not venture from their snug cottages, for fear of a storm." 
With a smile upon his lips, he hastened to where the ibex was 
lying, and raised it in his arms. Then, with a cry of horror, he 



i868.] 



THE LOST IBEX-HUNTER. 



427 




felt his footing give way ; and hunter and game were swallowed 
up in a crevasse of almost unfathomable depth. The thin cover- 
ing of ice had been sufficiently strong to bear the weight of the 
beast j but that of Ulric added, had shivered it as if it had been 
an egg-shell. 

Down ! down ! Hunter and ibex, through the debris of snow 
and ice, lying there for a thousand years. He fancied that the 



428 UNDER THE ICE j OR, [November, 

bottom would never be reached. The most profound darkness 
enveloped him ; his hands could clutch nothing but dampness 
but chilling flakes. Fortunately, the carcass of the beast was 
beneath him. Yet, for all that safeguard, he lay for a long time 
insensible. When consciousness returned, another day had 
dawned, and its golden glories had found their way even to 
the bottom of the yawning grave in which he was lying. He 
thought upon the utter helplessness of his situation ; that he 
must perish from cold and hunger ; of the lingering tortures he 
would be forced to endure, before death came to put an end to 
his misery ; and every nerve in his body quivered with horror. 
He looked around, to see if there were not some possible chance 
of escape. On either side smooth ice-walls arose, emitting a 
bluish steel glitter. He felt that he was buried alive ! " O God ! 
Why was I not instantly killed ? " he exclaimed, in the agony of 
despair ; and then, as better thoughts swayed him, he thanked the 
Almighty, with whom nothing is impossible, for his safety thus far, 
and prayed to Him for guidance and deliverance. 

His next thought was of his gun. When it was found that he 
did not return, his neighbors would certainly search for him, and 
by firing the gun, he could attract their attention. Vain hope ! 
Search as he would, he could find nothing of it. Even if he had 
discovered it, it would have been useless, for his powder-horn was 
gone as well. Over and over he turned the snow, down deep 
he dug into it, until his hands burned like fire, and great drops of 
perspiration rolled from his forehead^ until his arms grew stiff 
and sore, and he was forced to give up the useless labor from 
sheer exhaustion. With his back against the frozen prison-walls, 
he looked aloft, and saw the great vulture, sailing upon its immense 
and tireless wings, around the mouth of the chasm ; and the strong 
man shuddered, as he shook his fist defiantly, and murmured, with 
his hoarse voice, " Your time has not come yet ! " He thought, 
also, of his happy home, and his dear wife and children, and 
then, naturally, for he was faint and hungry, he thought of the 
food his wife had prepared for him. Having eaten of the bread 
and goats'-milk cheese, and drank of the little bottle of wine 
(which, strange to say, had remained unbroken), he reasoned that 
it would be cowardly to lie down and die, without an effort ; and 
he remembered the goodness of God, and once more fervently 
implored his help. Then, a bold idea came to him. Why might 
he not cut his way through the solid ice ? He had a hatchet, such 



1 868.] THE LOST IBEX-HUNTER. 429 

as his class never travel without. Ah ! but he was forgetful that 
the walls might be hundreds of feet thick ; that they were of ex- 
cessive hardness, and would soon render blunt both hatchet and 
knife. The bright hope that had been born within him was dark- 
ened by no such shadow. For the time being, he knew that he 
was safe. He was accustomed to the cold, was warmly clad, 
could use the skin of the ibex, in case of need, and its flesh 
would drive away the wolves of starvation for many a day. A 
brief rest, and he began the task, and toiled faithfully, until dark- 
ness forced him to stop. A night of uneasy rest, a breakfast of 
the raw flesh of the ibex, and he resumed his labors. Another 
day of toil, and he again stretched himself upon the skin of the 
beast, wrapping it around him as much as was possible, and slept 
long and heavily, although there had been a sudden fall in the 
temperature, and it was now excessively cold. 

For four days, he toiled thus, his only food the raw and frozen 
flesh of the ibex ; for four nights, he slept within the hole he had 
cut away in the thick ice-walls, closing up the entrance, and thus 
obtaining partial shelter from the chilling blasts. And once he 
heard the firing of guns, and his heart beat wildly within him. 
He dropped his dulled hatchet, crawled to the centre of the chasm, 
and shouted with all his remaining strength, shouted, until his 
strained voice was reduced to the very ghost of a hoarse whisper. 
He knew that his friends were in search of him ; imagined he 
could hear his name called ; could do nothing to attract their 
attention ; and, as the firing grew fainter, and farther and farther 
away, flung himself down, weeping and wringing his hands. The 
last plank to which he had clung had been shivered ! His neigh- 
bors and friends had come and gone. They would never search 
that part of the mountain again. None would ever know of his 
fate. He was buried in an icy tomb until the last trump should 
sound and hot flashes of flame dissolve the frost-work around him. 

With his mind trembling upon the verge of madness, over- 
powered by sorrow, crushed by bitter agony, he fell back in- 
sensible, and lay for a long time upon the cold, damp snow, that 
soon must be his winding-sheet. The black vulture flapped its 
wings above him, and he knew nothing of it. But, after some 
hours, the hunter's consciousness returned, though he was far too 
much crushed, in both body and soul, to resume his labors. He 
crept into the little cavern he had excavated (would it not be to 
him a tomb ?), and gave passionate vent to his griefs. For many 



43 UNDER THE ICE ; OR, [November, 

weary hours nothing passed his lips ; and, with aching head and 
fevered brain, with trembling limbs and convulsive sobs, he prayed 
for deliverance, if by no other hand, at least by the skeleton one 
of death. 

It was rayless, sunless, starless darkness in the ice-cavern, when 
the springs of his life again became capable of action. He was 
ravenously hungry, and arose to satisfy his hunger with a portion 
of the ibex he had left remaining outside in the chasm. He felt 
around, but could discover no outlet. Had he been frozen in 
shut out from God's blessed sunshine forever ? Nothing but 
smooth ice met his burning and blistered fingers. Then, after 
an hour's search, he found a soft spot, and instantly solved the 
mystery. He knew that there must have been a heavy fall of 
snow in the night, and that it had drifted into, and blocked up 
the opening ; and with the strength of despair, he soon dug 
through. It was still snowing heavily ; the flakes fell like great 
feathers around ; and he drew the remnant of the carcass of the 
ibex into the cave, and made another rude meal. And thus re- 
freshed, a new hope was born within him ; and again the ice-walls 
resounded with the vigorous blows of his little hatchet. But it 
was slow work, and .much of the time was taken up in clearing 
the chips from the little grotto. 

A week passed, a week of the most severe toil and terrible 
anxiety, and yet, he was not disheartened. His trust in God had 
returned ; and love for his wife and dependent children kept alive 
his often sinking heart. He was yet in hopes of reaching the 
upper air of seeing his dear ones again. But even as he was 
thinking thus, with something of his old-time cheerfulness, a new 
anxiety took possession of, and nearly overpowered him. The 
carcass of the ibex, that had been the innocent cause of all his 
trouble, was picked almost to the bones. 

With dire starvation staring him in the face, he bowed his head, 
and wept like a little child. Starvation, that is dreadful, even in 
thought ! Starvation, that has in it more of horror than a thou- 
sand other deaths ! He could almost see it silently approaching, 
and for a time despair alone had possession of him. Then his 
trust in the Supreme Being returned, and he committed himself 
unto His holy keeping. " Heavenly Father ! " he murmured, 
from between his parched and blackened lips ; " it is thy hand 
that has sustained me so far has saved me from all danger. 
Thou givest food to the young ravens, and markest even the fall 



l868.] THE LOST IBEX-HUNTER.* 43! 

of the tiny sparrow. None but Thou can hear me, or help me. 
Hear my prayer ! Save me, O God ! Save me ! " 

Something of sweet consolation came with the utterance of the 
words, and he laid down to sleep more tranquilly than he had 
done for many previous nights. Yet, it was only to be awakened 
by a new fear. It needed no seer to tell him that thefo/in, or hot 
south-wind was sweeping over the glaciers and snow-fields of the 
high Alps ; and that the rain was falling in torrents ; and the enor- 
mous blocks of ice melting, as by the touch of fire. The cavern 
he had dug with such infinite labor was almost breast-deep with 
water, and it was rushing in with all the swiftness of a mountain 
torrent. Instantly, he was wet to the skin, and stood almost para- 
lyzed with terror. Then he breasted his way out into the chasm, 
but it was only to return again as quickly as possible. Never 
cataract raged more fiercely than the surging water there. Cut- 
ting little niches in the ice-wall, he climbed beyond the reach of 
the water, and tremblingly awaited his fate. The waves rose 
rapidly, higher and higher. He had climbed until his head rested 
against the top of the little cave could go no farther. And yet, 
the waters rolled upwards around him. They reached his waist 
surged higher to his breast crept to his throat, and, despite all 
his efforts, began to trickle into his mouth. In another moment, 
he would be strangled by them ; his hold would be torn away, and 
his body dashed hither and thither, against the sharp points of 
the ice. " O God ! Save me ! Save me ! " burst from him in the 
terrible agony of the instant the moment of time that laid 
between him and death. 

A noise like thunder a shivering crash resounded through 
the chasm. It appeared as if the very foundations of the world 
were tottering beneath him. Now, indeed, he felt that his end had 
come. No ! Terror was instantly changed to rapture. The water 
rushed out of the cavern with the most amazing velocity ; he could 
descend and stand upon the bottom again without fear. How this 
had been accomplished, he was forced to wait until the morning 
light to determine ; and, with the first beams, he saw a great fissure 
had been opened, through which the imprisoned waters had found 
their way to the valley below. This unlooked-for preservation 
again inspired him with confidence rendered more firm his trust 
in God. Through that tunnel, he saw a way to freedom. It was 
small, to be sure, but he could enlarge it ; and he worked dili- 
gently, until his strength utterly failed. The ibex was entirely 



432 r UNDER THE ICE. [November, 

devoured. He had split the bones, and sucked out the marrow ; 
had gnawed them over and over again, to appease his hunger. For 
two days, he had not tasted a morsel of food. The hatchet slipped 
from his hand when he endeavored to strike a blow, and he was 
forced to abandon the undertaking. There was nothing left him 
now, but to die. 

Another day passed, and no help came. He lay crouched in a 
corner, wishing that the end would come, and that swiftly. His 
eyes were already filmed, and his heart beat faintly. Then, a 
strange noise aroused him. He looked aloft, and saw a chamois 
vainly striving to defend itself from the attacks of two old vultures 
that were striking at it with wing and beak. It was an unequal 
contest ; and at length, the animal, driven to desperation, at- 
tempted to leap the broad chasm. The effort was a noble one, 
but it failed of success. The chamois missed its footing, and fell, 
bruised and helpless, at the very feet of the starving man. In an 
instant, his knife was plunged into its throat ; and the warm blood 
was drained by his eager lips. This gave him new life, and he re- 
newed his labor. It was almost a herculean task. More than 
once, he fell fainting beside it. But hope was very strong within 
him. Still, he would have utterly failed, had not heaven assisted 
him. 

Again, ihef0tin was busy at its work of destruction ; again, the 
windows of heaven were opened ; and the " rains descended, and 
the floods came," l and accomplished more in a single night than 
his hands could have done in months. With the morning light, 
he crawled through the now large tunnel ; but when he reached 
the outer end, found, to his horror, that he was on the top of a 
mighty precipice. His blood boiled ; his brnin seemed on fire j 
his heart beat as if it would break through ribs and flesh. He 
was, if possible, more desperately imprisoned than before. How 
was he to get down? Through his bewildered mind suddenly 
flashed the thought of the skins of the ibex and chamois, and ha 
was not long in making a rope of them. He then cut a deep hole 
in the ice, drove down his alpenstock, fastened one end to it, and 
swinging himself off, reached the bottom in safety. 

With a cry of joy and a prayer of thankfulness, he hastened 
along the well-known path ; and when the bell of the little chapel, 
that reared its gilded cross in the Matter Valley, was tolling for 
the evening prayers, he staggered, like a drunken man, into the 
very midst of the astonished worshippers, even as the voice of 



1 868.] PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. 433 

the good priest was repeating, " God is everywhere with me ; and 
everywhere, even in the most threatening dangers, his voice 
speaks to me in tones of comfort, and says, ' Call upon me in the 
day of trouble, and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me ! '" 
staggered towards the altar, to kneel at it, but fell fainting into 
the arms of his wife, who again nursed him to health, strength, 
and manhood. 




PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. 

THE RIDE FOR LIFE. 

THINK," said Miss Wideawake, "that my third story 
must be about my Tasmanian rides, one of which 
nearly cost me my life. It makes me shudder to 
think of it, even now ; and, if I am very tired at night, 
I am almost certain to take it again in my dreams. 

" Mamma would not consent to my visiting Tasmania, until 
grandpapa promised to superintend my lessons, so that I might 
keep up with my classes at home ; and he entered upon the work 
with great zeal. ' Too much attention,' he said, ' could not be 
given to the wishes of a mother who had sent her child such a 
distance for his pleasure. Of course, he would teach me, and in 
the best manner too. It should be just like a school. There 
should be no interruptions, nothing to take off my mind ; and to 
that end, we would have a room to ourselves.' 

" Grandmamma smiled archly. She thought we should soon 
tire of our labors ; but she kindly gave up her own little sitting- 
room, which was one of the most cheerful of nooks, and there I 
spread out the books, maps, globes, and drawing materials, which 
I had carried from home. For one whole fortnight, I studied 
diligently ; and grandpapa, with a fussy precision which was funny 
to see, broke in upon every plan of business or pleasure, at the 
very moment which he had set for hearing my lessons. Visitors 
were left to amuse themselves as they could ; and servants were 
dismissed without orders, while he plunged into the mysteries of 
algebra, recalled his old knowledge of Latin and French, or criti- 
cised my tumble-down houses, one-sided horses, and awkward 
dogs, with patient gravity. 



434 PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. [November, 

" At the end of that time, his resolution gave way. He fancied 
I looked pale. He thought the confinement did not agree with 
me. He said I should be a great deal better to ride with him when 
the sun shone, and study only in bad weather. So we wrote a 
joint letter to mamma, stating the case with great force, and re- 
solved to take enjoy ourselves in our own way, during the months 
which must necessarily elapse before a reply to our epistle should 
put an end to my busy idleness. 

" I am afraid I enjoyed it, even better than grandpapa, for it 
was like being in a new world. The wheat and oat fields were 
to be visited, the turnips to be looked after, and the potatoes to 
be watched. Sometimes, new land was to be cleared ; and then 
we had gangs of men to fell the gum-trees, peppermint-trees, 
stringy-barks, and tea-trees ; to grub up the roots, and .cut the 
trunks and boughs into fencing length, the great logs, six or 
eight feet long, forming the lower tier, and the branches being 
laid above, and twisted into a stout barrier, as high as a man's 
head. 

" Another kind of clearing was quite as necessary, but far less 
laborious than this, to prevent the mischief which would other- 
wise be occasioned by the fires which often raged in the hot, dry 
Christmas weather. In anticipation of these, all rubbish near the 
fences was picked up, and the grass, for the distance of ten or 
twelve feet on either side, was burned, before the heat had made 
everything like tinder. Unless this was carefully done, not only 
the vast lines of fence, made with so much toil and expense, 
would have been swept away, but the crops, growing and gath- 
ered, and even the farm buildings, would have been endangered. 
For bush-fires were set by land-owners, on some part of their 
feeding-ground, every year ; partly, because the grass which 
sprang up immediately afterward was better relished by ani- 
mals than the old growth ; and partly because, that when it was 
neglected, the shrubs and coarse plants matted themselves into 
thickets, and the dead wood and decaying leaves covered the 
earth so closely as to check vegetation. These fires always fright- 
ened me ; but they were very grand, particularly at night. At 
first, the flames went hissing through the grass ; then, they caught 
the scrub, or growth of thick low bushes ; and then, sometimes 
they leaped into the dry tree-tops, and flew with a thousand dart- 
ing tongues, from bough to bough, and trunk to trunk, till they 
seemed to be climbing to the sky. 



1 868.] PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. 435 

" The words ' a great farm,' had a little different meaning in 
Tasmania from that which they bear in New England. They 
meant fields of grain, to be sure ; but they usually meant also vast 
tracts of country, where hundreds, perhaps thousands, of sheep 
and cattle ran at large, under the care of stock-keepers, who lived 
ii\ huts, more or less comfortable, according to their wages and 
thrift. Every year, the flocks and herds were collected ; the sheep 
were sheared and marked ; the calves were branded ; and such 
cattle as were wanted for home use were selected ; after which, 
the remainder were returned to their pastures again. The sheep 
gave little trouble ; but the cattle became frightened and furious, 
and it required skill, coolness, and strength, to manage them. 

" Of course, the work on such an estate was necessarily super- 
intended on horseback ; and my pretty pony, Spring, who was as 
intelligent as he was spirited, soon learned to leap fences and 
ditches, to push through scrub, and to ford rivers. He never 
needed the whip ; he would stand without tying ; and when I was 
too tired to sit erect, would not only let me lie down on his neck, 
but would then pick his way with double caution, as if aware that 
my position was unusually insecure. I used to thank him from 
my heart for this privilege, for grandpapa liked so much to have 
me make the rounds with him, that he would not willingly excuse 
me from them for any light reason ; and I, knowing how much he 
enjoyed my company, never asked to remain at home, unless too 
ill to keep my saddle. So, laying aside petticoats, and putting on 
a coarse, strong habit of moderate length, over pantaloons of the 
same material, that my limbs might be as free as possible, shading 
my head with a wide-brimmed hat, and defending my feet and 
hands with stout boots and heavy gloves, I started, for two, four, 
or six hours, as it might happen. Several dogs usually followed, 
which occasionally roused a brush-kangaroo, ran down a kangaroo- 
rat, caught a bandicoot, and once even started a tiger, which made 
an excuse for grandpapa to buy a revolver for me, and give me a 
few lessons in its use. 

" The most exciting part of the farm-work was the collecting of 
the herds. It never took less than three weeks ; and grandpapa 
was so tired of the labor and discomfort, that he resolved once to 
take me with him, for the sake of my company. 

" ' You don't mean it, my dear ! You can't mean it ! ' exclaimed 
grandmamma, holding up both hands in terrified amazement, when 
grandpapa mentioned his intentions. 



PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. [November, 

" ' Ah ! but I do, though,' replied grandpapa. ' I am not to be 
cheated out of a great pleasure, because she made the mistake of 
being a girl. If she were a boy, now, as she ought to have been ' 

" ' But, 'tis so improper ! ' broke in grandmamma. 

" ' H'm ! ' replied grandpapa, forgetting his habitual courtesy in 
his vexation ; because grandmamma would present what he knQw 
to be the right side of the argument. 

" ' So dangerous ! ' pleaded grandmamma. 

" ' H'm ! ' said grandpapa again ; and so, I, all eagerness and 
resolution, full of expectation, but a good deal afraid as well, set 
out for the runs, at grandpapa's left hand. 

" Under ordinary circumstances, grandpapa would have taken 
only eight horsemen ; but out of exceeding care for me, he added 
three to the usual number, thus making me, as I jokingly told him, 
of as much account as one hundred and fifty cattle. But even 
with this precaution, I came near sacrificing my life to my own 
foolish love of adventure, and grandpapa's belief that I was equal 
to anything. 

" That you may understand how this happened, I will explain 
the mode of collecting the herds, of which there are a number, 
since they cannot all graze together. When in immediate expec- 
tation of finding one, the horsemen ride in single file, and the first 
who sees it whistles softly. At this, the party stop, and take 
a survey of the ground. They observe whether there are any 
thickets or swamps near by, where the cattle can hide from pur- 
suit ; and, separating silently, they endeavor to surround without 
alarming them, and by slow circles to bring them into as small a 
space as they can readily be made to occupy. If they can be 
made to ' stand,' other 'lots ' are collected, and joined to the first, 
when all are slowly and patiently urged toward the stockyard. 

" If a scrub, with but one path through it, is to be crossed, one 
or two stock-riders take their position in the clear space beyond, 
to check the cattle when they come out upon it, leaving the con- 
duct of the herd to four of their number, one riding at the head, 
one on either side, and one behind. Horses trained to this work 
are almost as intelligent as their masters, pursuing the runaway 
beasts through the forest, and wheeling or jumping aside to keep 
clear of their horns, when, as it often happens, they make an attack. 

" The stockyard is fenced with gigantic logs, five or six feet high ; 
and yet, the animals sometimes leap it in their frantic efforts to 
escape. Here, the most dangerous toil occurs, for the stock- 



1 868.] PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. 437 

keepers go in among the infuriated creatures, and let out such 
as are not wanted, while they keep in such as are. Sometimes 
they all make a rush at the men, who must then jump through 
the rails, to escape being gored to death. Often, an animal tries 
to pass, and must be driven back. If he gets fairly through the 
opening, those outside spring on horseback and pursue him, crack- 
ing their whips fast and loudly. Perhaps they will turn him and 
bring him back three or four times, before he can be forced into 
the enclosure. 

" Such cattle as are intended for house and farm service, are 
then driven home. Upon their approach, the dogs are shut up, 
people retire from sight, and the gates are set wide open ; but 
they are so fearful and suspicious, that even with these precau- 
tions, it is very difficult to get them into the farmyard. They 
come near, then start, and bellow, and rush in every direction ; 
and, after a long and toilsome pursuit, are often brought back, only 
to do the same thing again. 

" Sometimes, the cows refuse to be milked ; and then, recourse 
is had to the 'milking-bail.' In this, the head is held fast ; and, if 
necessary, a leg is tied, which soon convinces Mrs. Moolley of the 
impolicy of farther struggles. 

" Of course, I did not go near the stockyard. Even grandpapa 
would not allow me to see its terrific labor, which required a great 
deal more skill and courage than the famous bull-fights of Spain. 
I only rode with my relative in search of his property, camping 
with him under the still, warm sky, and cheering his evenings by 
singing to him his favorite songs, for which he repaid me by stories 
of his early hardships and adventures before he became a prosper- 
ous man in this new country. 

"One day, I took a position quite out of harm's way, as I 
thought, upon the side of a hill. From thence, I was idly gazing 
at the stock-riders, as they circled round a herd, forcing them into 
a smaller and smaller compass. I had seen the process so often, 
that it had lost its novelty, and I took no interest in it, until I 
suddenly became aware that the animals were beginning to break 
away in my direction, and I knew that I must ride for my life. I 
threw one foot over the saddle, pressed the other firmly into the 
stirrup, and urged my pony to his highest speed. Hardly had I 
done so, when the beasts were raging behind me, their heavy 
tread shaking the earth, and their bellowing giving me fierce 
warning of my probable fate. The ground was uneven and stony. 



438 PETS AND SPORTS IN TASMANIA. [November, 

If Spring should stumble, we should be trampled down in a twink- 
ling. If he should become unmanageable from fright, we should 
be forced over the brow of the hill, down the steep, rocky descent, 
and death would be equally certain. There was one chance for 
escape ; and this, after a short prayer for aid, I resolved to at- 
tempt. A part of the hill was bare at the top, and for this I knew 
the cattle would aim. To the left, the ground took a turn up- 
ward, with a thick growth of forest trees, but broken by a ravine, 
the entrance to which was nearly concealed by the overhanging 
boughs and the long sprays of various climbers. If I could reach 
this, I should probably be safe ; but to do so, I must cross in front 
of the maddened herd. I thought that Spring was at his utmost 
speed ; but at my urging, it was increased, and I was gratified to 
perceive that, although going diagonally, I still kept the same 
distance in front of my advancing foes. On ! on ! The distance 
appeared to lengthen, as we flew. My head grew giddy, my eyes 
grew dim ; but, with one last, fearful effort, my beautiful pony shot 
into the ravine, just as the whole body were sweeping over the 
summit. 

" One minute more I kept full command over myself. There 
would be snakes in the ravine, and possibly other creatures, which 
it would be disagreeable to meet. I touched my pony once more, 
and came out into the sunshine, and then I slipped from his back 
to the ground, and lost all consciousness. When I come to my- 
self, grandpapa had me in his arms ; and, forgetting everything 
but his pet, had sent one rider to the tent for wine, another to a 
spring for water, while a third was shielding me from the sun with 
his coat, and a fourth was fanning me with some leafy branches. 
In a short time, however, I was able to ride, when grandpapa in- 
sisted upon taking me home, declaring that he wouldn't be so 
frightened again for all Seaview. He watched me as closely as a 
cat watches a mouse, the remainder of the day ; and it was only 
when I asked, the following morning, if I might return with him to 
the run, that he could be persuaded I had really received no injury. 

" Dear grandpapa ! One of the men afterward told me, that 
when he saw no human aid could reach me, he sprang from his 
horse, knelt upon the ground, and remained in prayer, till he 
could venture up the hill without adding to the frenzy of the 
cattle ; and, I doubt not, that the answer to his petitions was to 
be found in my self-possession, and the successful efforts of my 
intelligent, swift, sure-footed pony. M. G. SLEEPER." 



i868.] 



LITTLE PEARL. 



439 





LITTLE PEARL. 

CHAPTER VIII. BETTER DAYS. 
(Conclusion?) 

jHE "better days " had come. Miss Muggins no longer 
reigned. Good old Aunt Debby, with her smiling face 
and pleasant ways, was now seen in the kitchen ; and 
throughout the house, the rule of grandma and Aunt 
Nelly was shown in everything. The sitting-room door was no 
longer kept locked ; the great white rosebush had gone back to 
its old place ; and Cressy's cage now hung at the window. But, 
sometimes, when Cress was in very high glee, and sang too loud 
and too long, a covering had to be thrown over him, to keep him 
silent ; for, in one corner of the room, there was a little white 
couch, and little Pearl was still lying sick. She had recovered 
from the fever ; but instead of getting stronger and better, day by 
day, she grew more weak and thin. She suffered no pain, but lay 
there, patient and quiet, not liking to talk much, or to be disturbed 
in any way ; and looking contented and happy, as she watched 
grandma and Aunt Nelly going about the house, making peace 
and comfort. 

One morning, she seemed much brighter than usual, and talked 
quite gaily for a little while ; and when the children brought her 
fresh flowers, instead of telling them to " take them to mamma," 
as she always did, she said, " I'll keep these. I don't think 
mamma' wants my flowers any more. She has got prettier ones." 

" Yes, dear ; so she has," said Aunt Nelly ; " but what made 
you think of that now ? " 

" Because, auntie ; I saw mamma last night. I truly did." 

" Where, darling ? " 

" Here, beside me. She came and sat down by the bed, and 
put her hand on my head, and then I went to sleep ; and, oh, 



440 LITTLE PEARL. [November, 

I had such a beautiful dream, auntie ! I thought I went to heaven, 
where mamma lives ; and, oh, it was so beautiful there ! I can't 
tell you anything about it, auntie ; but there were houses and trees, 
and flowers and birds, just as there are here ; and mamma was in 
a great garden, where there were a lot of little children playing ; 
and she led me all around, and showed me the flowers and all 
the beautiful things ; and I was so happy, auntie ! I thought I 
would like to stay there always. Perhaps I shall go there, pretty 
soon, auntie." 

" Do you want to, darling ? Do you want to go, and leave papa 
and grandma and auntie ? What would we do without our little 
Pearl ? " 

" If God wants me to come, I must go ; mustn't I, grandma ? " 

" Oh, my darling ! my darling ! " cried Aunt Nelly. " Don't 
talk about it any more. Keep quiet a little while now, and see 
if you can't go to sleep, dear. Auntie will shut the blinds, and 
make Cress stop singing, and come and sit here beside you, till 
you wake up ; and when papa comes home, we shall have some- 
thing nice for little Pearl." 

" I'll try to, auntie ; but let me kiss you first," she said ; " and 
you too, grandma ; and Agnes, and Gassy ; and where is Bliss ? " 
she asked. 

Bliss was out playing, but they brought him in, put him on the 
bed, and Pearl drew him close to her, and kissed him over and 
over again. Sometime after, Agnes went softly into the room, to 
see if Pearl was awake. All was still. Aunt Nelly was sitting by 
the bed, holding Pearl's hands in hers, and with her head bowed 
low on the pillow, as if she too was asleep. 

" Auntie, is Pearl sleeping yet ? Auntie ? " There was no 
answer. Agnes saw a smile on Pearl's face, and she came near 
and kissed her. Her lips were icy cold. " Pearl ! Pearl ! " she 
cried ; " wake up ! wake up, dear little sister ! " 

But Pearl did not hear. She was not there. It was only her 
earthly form lying there, cold and still. Patient, loving, little Pearl 
had gone home. Her " better days " had come. 

It was in the evening, just at sunset, when the little form was 
laid beside the mother's, in the grove ; and, when all was done, and 
the others had gone back to the house, Agnes and her grand- 
mother sat down by the little grave, and had a long, long talk ; 
and Agnes told how selfish, thoughtless, she had been ; how 



i868.] 



LITTLE PEARL. 



441 




unkindly she had often treated her dear sister ; how naughty she 
had been, in every way, since her mother died. " But, now, I 
think I never shall be wicked any more, grandma ; never," she 
said. 

" Yes, dear ; you think so now," said the grandmother. " Love 
and sorrow open the heart to all good thoughts and feelings ; but 
evil lies deep, little Agnes ; evil lies deep, and we have no power 
in ourselves to overcome it. All good, all truth, and beauty, come 
from our dear Heavenly Father, from him alone ; and unless we 
walk in his ways, and keep near to him, we can never have any 
true happiness. You are young, and do not know yourself yet. 
You have only begun the great war with evil. But you will find, 
as you grow older, that you have a long, hard battle to fight, dear ; 
a long, hard battle." 



442 THE KITE. [November, 



THE KITE. 

I SAW, from my window, a few days ago, 

Three boys that were standing along in a row ; 

And all looking eagerly up in the sky. 

" What is it they see there, I wonder ? " said I. 

So, I put on my glasses, looked this way and that, 

(To see, if I could, what the fellows were at ;) 

And beheld in the air a magnificent kite. 

The paper 'twas made of was red, blue, and white ; 

Its form was hexagonal ; floating behind 

Was the tail, and the bobs were all colors combined, 

Pink, yellow, and green, and some newspaper too, 

All tied in the middle, and gorgeous to view ; 

Then a very long string, to reach up in the sky, 

Completed the vision that greeted my eye. 

But, somehow, the kite did not go very well ; 

It looked all lop-sided, and frequently fell ; 

Till good Uncle John, who was just going by, 

To make it fly better, determined to try. 

He altered the bobs, much to Harry's dismay, 

And tore half the newspaper-tassel away. 

He then tried the kite ; then the string he untied, 

And changed it a little ; and once more he tried, 

Till it suited his fancy ; then Ned took the string, 

And they tried it again. Now up, up, with a spring, 

Rose the kite ; and the wind took it higher and higher, 

Over tree-tops and house-tops, and close to the spire 

Of the neighboring church ; and then upward again. 

Now, quite still for a moment it seemed to remain, 

Far up in the sky, where the red, blue, and white 

Were lost in the sunshine that gilded the kite. 



to 1 



Uncle John had gone home, and the boys stood alone 
On the green grassy turf, in the light of the sun. 



i868.] THE KITE. 443 

They were brothers ; the oldest among them was Ned, 

A big boy of eight ; and next came Master Fred ; 

Last of all, little Harry, who could not be more, 

Let me think yes, I'm right, he was only just four. 

Said Harry, " Look ! look at her now ! " As he spoke, 

The kite tugged the string, tugged again, and it broke ; 

Away went the kite, as if glad to be free, 

And over the lake its bright form I could see, 

Off, off, and away, till it vanished from view. 

" Oh ! the poor little boys ! " thought I ; " what will they do ? " 

First, came a subdued exclamation from Ned, 

That was followed at once by an echo from Fred ; 

But Harry was little, and scarce understood 

That their fast-flying treasure was " going for good." 

" Well it's gone ! " then said Ned ; " Yes it's gone ! " echoed 

Fred. 

Then, the truth burst on Harry ; he hung down his head ; 
His grief-laden bosom heaved heart-rending sobs, 
As for evermore vanished those newspaper bobs ; 
His tears overflowed and ran down his red cheeks. 
Then, seeing his anguish, Ned soothingly speaks. 
" No matter ; don't cry. Uncle Johnny will make 
A handsomer one, with a string that won't break." 
" Oh, yes ; Uncle Johnny will make one," said Fred. 
So, half-sad, half-consoled, little Harry they led 
Off the grass, down the alley-way, out of my sight ; 
And I hope Uncle Johnny has made the new kite. 

Then I looked in the sky ; not a speck could I see, 

To indicate where the old truant might be. 

It flew over the lake, as I knew very well ; 

But what came after that, I am sure I can't tell. 

Yet if, in your rambles, you ever should find 

A long string of bobs every color and kind 

Attached to a very magnificent kite, 

Of hexagonal form, painted red, blue, and white, 

You will know 'tis the one that went flying away 

From Ned, Fred, and Harry, that sunshiny day. L. A. B. 




444 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [November, 



MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 

VII. THE POPE'S GIFT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT THE BEGGAR- 
KING THE BROOM-PLANT FLOURISHES "A PRETTY 



|T was John Plantagenet, that broke his father's heart. 
Then he conspired against his own brother with the 
King of France. Next, he deserted his ally, to secure 
his own succession. But his brother Geoffrey's son, 
young Arthur, stood in the way ; so he murdered Arthur with his 
own hand, and shut up his sister, the lovely Pearl of Brittany, all 
her long life, in a gloomy convent-cell. Meantime, French Philip, 
hearing that the slothful king sleeps till mid-day, and sits long at 
the feast with his queen, thinks it a good time to recover the 
territory that John's father had acquired in France. 

" Let him take it," said this blusterer over his wine ; " I can get 
it all back in a day." 

" Suppose we go out and try," said his barons ; but he no sooner 
heard the enemy's bugles, than he ran away so fast, that he left all 
his baggage on the field. A traitor is always a coward cowards 
are the noisiest braggarts. Abject in adversity, as he was arrogant 
in prosperity, John begged Pope Innocent to make Philip behave 
himself ; and then was foolish enough to get into a quarrel with the 
pope about who should be Archbishop of Canterbury. Innocent, 
who ought to be called Ingenious, for the way he managed it, gave 
the office to Master Stephen Langton, a " man of deep wisdom, 
elegant person, and faultless morals ; " and to repay the king for 
robbing him of his right to choose the primate, sent him a fine 
letter, and four gold rings set with precious stones, hinting, at the 
same time, that if John were not satisfied with these, the holy 
Mother Church knew how to punish unruly children. At this, the 
king raved, and swore by the teeth of God, his usual oath, that, 
if his mightiness dared to lay England under an interdict, he 
would slit the noses of all the priests in the kingdom. The 
nobles would have stood by the king ; but they knew he would 
not keep faith with them, and so the fury of the interdict fell 
upon the people ; and, as the chronicler says, " the gems were 
turned to groans." It was no light thing for a nation to be sud- 
denly deprived of the consolations of religion, as they were by 



1 868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 445 

this terrible papal sentence. The church-bells no longer called 
the people to mass. The church-doors were closed against them ; 
and if, from reverential habit, they persisted in entering, the si- 
lence and desolation of the place frightened them, for the bones 
of the saints were strewn with ashes, the pictures and images were 
veiled in black, and a pall covered the altar. The dead were 
thrown unburied into ditches ; and, if any young lovers dared 
dream of marriage in this solemn time, the priest performed the 
ceremony in the churchyard. 

To avert the doom of deposition, the craven king went so far 
as to kneel at the pope's feet, as his liegeman, and own him as 
his master ; and, having confessed his sins to Master Langton, 
and taken dinner with him, John seemed to think he had nothing 
more to fear, and began to rule with a high hand. Langton, who 
saw that his barons despised him, whispered to them, that, in rum- 
maging an old monastery, he had found a paper which had been 
granted by Henry I. to his subjects, securing certain rights to 
them and their heirs forever ; and, by his advice, the barons, at 
Christmas-time, sent word to the king that they would trouble 
him to put his name to this paper. " If they would be so kind 
as to wait until Easter," John replied, " he would grant their re- 
quest with pleasure ; " and then he set himself to work to counter- 
feit the seals of all the English bishops, and wrote letters in their 
name to every foreign country, abusing the English, and promis- 
ing rewards, in the name of the pope, to any nation that would 
make war against England. His barons found out this miserable 
trick; and, in June, 1215, they ordered him to meet them in a 
green meadow near Windsor, and there they made him sign the 
Great Charter, by which they were to be protected forever after 
from the injustice of bad men such as he. After this good deed, 
the only one to which he ever set his hand, and then only on 
compulsion, John avoided his nobles, as if in shame at his humili- 
ation, but in reality to plot his last act of treachery, in sending for 
foreign mercenaries to fight against them. 

Unable longer to endure his meanness, the barons sent for Louis 
of France to come and rule over them ; and he had actually landed 
in England, when the false John, running away as usual from the 
fight, was overtaken by the tide, lost all his equipage and treasure, 
and barely escaping with his life, fell ill soon after, and died at 
Swinstead Abbey, of shame, some say, but more probably of 
overeating. Cceur de Lion's extravagance and his own cowardice 



446 MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. [November, 

gave to John the surname of Sans-terre, or Lackland. If land were 
all he had lacked, he would deserve our pity ; but he had neither 
purity, nor piety, nor gratitude, nor affection, nor truth, nor honor, 
nor courage, nor justice, nor mercy ; and thus, lacking everything 
that a man should possess, he merits only our contempt. 

The longest and weakest reign of English history was that of 
Henry III., the beggar-king. That division of Parliament, known 
as the House of Commons, originated then, and was the second 
step towards freeing the people from the capricious tyranny of 
selfish kings. It was to Henry's son Edward, who had already 
begun to show himself a brave and resolute prince, that men 
looked for the restoration of all they had lost in the weak and 
vicious reigns of his immediate predecessors ; and they were not 
disappointed. Edward Longshanks was " the greatest of the 
Plantagenets." He was shrewd, bold, and courageous. He was 
never idle, and he hated vice. He added new privileges to Magna 
Charta ; and though he sought to extend his territory, it was not 
so much for his own enrichment as to consolidate his king- 
dom, that it might resist the shock of foreign invasion. Still, 
the glory of his conquests is dimmed by the cruelties that accom- 
panied them. When he wrested Wales from the Celts, who had 
held it ever since the Saxon invasion, he killed its prince, and 
sent his head to London, where " it was received with a marvellous 
clang," says the chronicle. A more ruthless deed was the mas- 
sacre of the Welsh bards, because they sang patriotic songs, and 
influenced their countrymen. When the now subdued people, 
weeping, begged him to give them as a ruler a native of their 
beloved mountains, one who could neither speak Saxon nor 
French, " Here is the very prince you ask for ! " cried Edward, 
holding up his baby-boy, born three days before, at Caernavon. 
What could the rough Snowdon barons do but submit ? They 
kissed the soft hand of the wee baby, and swore fealty to him as 
Prince of Wales ; and, from that day to this, the oldest son of the 
reigning monarch of England receives the same title at his birth. 
Appealed to as umpire in a dispute concerning the throne of Scot- 
land, Edward demanded to be acknowledged as Lord Paramount 
of that kingdom, and then gave the crown to the one of the three 
claimants whom he thought he could subdue the easiest. Baliol 
would not have accepted it on these terms, if he had had half the 
nobility of some of his subjects. He submitted himself entirely to 
Edward, by whom, at last, he was dethroned and banished. Eng- 



1 868.] MILESTONES OF ENGLISH HISTORY. 447 

lish soldiers garrisoned the castles of Scotland, and behaved very 
insolently to the people, and treated the boys, I suppose, 
much as the British troops did the Boston boys, during the first 
days of the Revolution. 

A Paisley lad, named William Wallace, determined not to sub- 
mit to their insults. One clay, when he had been out fishing, and 
was sauntering home with his fish-pole on his shoulder, and a 
basketful of speckled trout in his hand, some soldiers tried to 
snatch the basket from him. Wallace generously offered to share 
with them ; but they insisted on having the whole, and in the 
struggle, one of them cuffed the boy's ears. Wallace was a tall, 
strong fellow, and anger made him stronger, and he struck the 
soldier such a blow with his fish-pole, that he killed him ; then 
seizing the dead man's sword, drove the rest away, and carried 
off his fish in triumph. He was obliged to flee for his life, in 
consequence ; and, hiding among the mountains, he was joined by 
others as brave as himself, and soon found himself at the head 
of an army, and fought for years against the Southrons. But a 
price was set upon his head, " a traitor sold him to his foes ; " 
and at last, he stood for trial before English judges, who accused 
him of being a traitor, a robber, and a murderer. " No traitor 
am I," said the noble Wallace ; " for I never was the subject of 
your king. Robber I have been, but only to recover that which 
the Southrons stole from us ; and, as to murder, I am only sorry 
that I have not been the death of more of my country's foes." Of 
course, they hanged him ; and, worse than that, King Edward 
had him torn in quarters, and sent every town a limb. Ah ! but 
the fame of the loyalty of William Wallace went farther abroad 
than did his mangled remains ; and patriots of every land admire 
his courage and devotion. If Edward thought he had heard the 
last of the independence of the Scotch, when he nailed the head 
of Wallace to London Bridge, he was mistaken, for Robert the 
Bruce was left to maintain it. Tracked to the mountains by 
sleuth-hounds, tossed for days at a time in leaky boats, on the 
stormy lakes of the highlands, hidden for months in a cave, 
the courage of Robert Bruce won at last the freedom and the 
throne of Scotland ; and the latter never had a wiser nor a braver 
occupant. 

Some of you may have seen, in Westminster Abbey, the tomb 
of Edward L, with the inscription in Latin, " Here lies long Ed- 
ward, hammer of the Scotch." When the powerful blows with 



448 MINK CURTISS j OR, [November, 

which he tried to crush this brave nation were interrupted by 
death, he ordered his body to be boiled, and the fleshless bones 
to be borne by his son at the head of his army, till Scotland was 
subdued. That son was not a wicked prince, but a weak one. 
He would not leave his darling friend, Piers Gaveston, long 
enough to complete the conquest of Scotland. This partiality 
and Gaveston's sharp tongue displeased the nobility, who mur- 
dered the favorite, and then the king went over the border to 
fight the dauntless Bruce. 

"Thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel just." At Ban- 
nockburn, one hundred thousand Englishmen, led by a usurper, 
were defeated by a third their number of loyal Scotch, follow- 
ing their rightful prince, and fighting in the holy cause of free- 
dom. The little river ran red with English blood, till its bed 
was filled from bank to bank with heaps of slain, so that those 
who fled might almost have passed dryshpd, as if on a bridge, 
over the bodies of their comrades. That was a gallant knight, 
who led King Edward from the lost field to a place of escape, 
then turned and said, " My liege, it is not my custom to fly ! " and 
galloped back, to die with his esquires, by Scottish spears. 

Betrayed, deposed, and tortured, Edward II. was finally mur- 
dered, by command of his wife. Happier far had it been for him, 
had he slept with his knights, in the gory bed of Bannockburn. 
The Bruce's sword would not have had for him so sharp an edge 
as the fangs of the " She -wolf of France." COUSIN ALICE. 



MINK CURTISS; OR, LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 

BY AN OLD HUNTER. 

CHAPTER IV. 

(Continued from the October Number?) 

FEW hours of mental agony passed, and the white 
captives were brought forth, with their arms bound 
behind them, and placed back to back against the 
post of torture. That done, the warriors silently took 
their places in a circle around ; while the man of medicine stalked 
on the outer side, gesticulating wildly, and muttering to himself 
vengeance against all who wore a white skin. 




l868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 449 

To attempt to describe the feelings of the poor boys would be 
almost impossible ; and, indeed, the changes were so rapid around 
them, that they had but little time for thought. They were fasci- 
nated, as it were, and the fear of death driven away for the time. 
The blackened faces and bodies of the Indians were now striped 
with the brightest red, and everything possible done to make their 
appearance horrible. But still, they sat for a time in the most 
stoical indifference ; sat, with the most foul murder brooding in 
their hearts, as if they were making preparations for some holi- 
day festival. The pipe passed from hand to hand, each taking a 
mouthful of smoke, and blowing it through their broad nostrils, 
and listening to the chanting and drum-beating of the squaws, and 
the incantations of the medicine. Then one, more savage than 
the rest, sprang to his feet, beat himself upon the breast, and 
straining his lungs to the utmost, addressed them long and 
fiercely. Another and another followed, until all, save the great 
chief, had spoken ; and his words were but a repetition of what 
had before been said. It was a rehearsal of the wrongs they had 
suffered at the hands of the white man ; of how they had been 
driven from place to place ; of hunting-grounds destroyed, and 
graves torn up j of the Great Spirit, whose bow was bent in the 
heavens, whose voice was the deep-rolling thunder, and the flash- 
ing of whose eyes was the lightning longing for blood. Then, 
for an instant, he spoke of the captives, and what an acceptable 
offering they would be, and the weeping and wailing there would 
follow in the wigwams of the paleface, when they learned that 
their scalps were hanging to the belts of the red man. He sat 
down, and his place was instantly filled by the medicine, dressed 
in his robes of office, such a dress as very few, if any, of the young 
readers of MERRY'S have ever seen. Of the under-garments, 
the leggings a small portion of them, and the moccasins, could 
alone be seen were fringed with human hair, to which was hung 
the rattles of snakes, the teeth of wolves, and numerous tiny bells. 
A cloak, formed of the skins of birds of gay plumage, and fur of 
the smaller animals, was belted around him with a girdle of scalps 
curiously interwoven together. Upon his breast was suspended 
crescents of silver, carved with quaint designs and mystic em- 
blems. His face, wrinkled with the seams of eighty winters, was 
striped with alternate lines of black and vermilion, and his head 
decorated with parti-colored horse-hair, the scaly skins of serpents, 
and the feathers of huge birds. In one hand, he held a.fangless 



450 MINK CURTISS ; OR, [November, 

snake, that darted forth its tongue spitefully at any who came 
near ; and in the other, a long knotted staff, a formidable weapon 
in the hands of the still strong man. 

To the old hunter, he was simply an object of scorn ; but to 
the boys, who were totally ignorant of Indian customs, one of 
curiosity and dread. And the wily trickster instantly saw this ; 
and, to strike a still deeper terror into their hearts, and glorify his 
power, drew nearer to them, flourishing his living, twisting wand 
in dangerous proximity to their face, until they drew back, with a 
cry of horror. It was in vain that Mink Curtiss told them that 
the serpent was harmless ; in vain, that he almost commanded 
them to stand firm. The flashing eyes, and the forked tongue, 
licking, as it would have done, had they not suddenly drawn back, 
their very faces, was far too much for them to calmly endure ; and 
they looked with wonder on the old hunter, who, with a smile of 
scorn curling his lips, stood as if cast in iron. " Thar hain't any 
more danger," he said, " than thar would be from er angle-worm ; 
and ther miserable old fool knows it. Catch him ertakin' hold of 
er sarpint, ef it hadn't er got its pison-bag out. I've seen ther like 
of him berfore, and they hain't no more'n ony other man ; though 
they pertend ter be able ter talk ter ther speerits, and even have 
ther great Manitou whisper ter them of what will happen in ther 
futur ; ther impious scouldrels ! " 

" But the snake ! " whispered Frank, with a shudder. " To 
think of having it so very near my face ! " 

" Yer must larn ter command yerself, boy, in all sarcumstances ; 
and yer will, ef yer live on ther frontier long. But it kin hardly 
be expected on yet. Howsomever, yer must try, and be jest as 
brave as yer kin ; fer it will only make ther thing worse fer yer, ef 
ther redskins see that yer am erfeard." 

The medicine had been listening to his words, though scarcely 
comprehending their drift ; and, as if seized with some new idea, 
turned away, and addressed the warriors with far more of vehe- 
mence than one would have expected of his years. He urged 
them to the very acme of torture, to the most fiendish outrages 
that the savage mind could invent ; and all bowed to him in ap- 
probation all, save one. The Flying Crow alone attempted to 
avert the terrible doom that was hanging as by a single hair over 
the heads of the innocent ones. He told them again of the offer 
of the old hunter, and urged them to accept it, and let the boys 
go free ; and Mink Curtiss stepped boldly forth, and endorsed his 



i868.] 



LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 



451 




words. " Yer see," he said, " them ar lads am jest as innercent 
as er unborn baby ; and I promised ter see them safe hum ergin. 
Now, thar am many of yer that know me fer er man of my word ; 
and, ef I don't do it, my people will say that my tongue am forked, 
and ther trail I travelled whar er crooked one. I don't ax nothin' 
fer myself ; but jest let ther Flying Crow take them back ter thar 
old mother, and yer may skin me erlive, and burn me arterwards, 
ef yer see fit. Bersides, thar hain't no glory in killin' papooses 
like them ar. They hain't never bin on er war-path, and thar is 
no stain of blood upon thar hands. Yer mought jest as well kill 
ther leetle ring-dove, that am er cooin' out on ther perarer. As 
fer myself, I hain't ergoin' ter deny that I have killed er redskin 
in my time ; though nobody kin say that it whar not in er fair fight. 
So, jest work yer will on me, and let ther boys go free." 

It was a long speech for the old man, and one that was not 
without its effect upon the Indians ; but the medicine opposed it 
with the utmost virulence, and avowed that the Gitche-Manitou 



452 MINK CURTISS ; OR, [November, 

the Great Spirit would shower down all manner of curses upon 
them, if they permitted a single one of the prisoners to go unpun- 
ished. Against this decree, all the eloquence of the Flying Crow 
and the earnest appeals of Mink Curtiss were as nothing. The 
ignorant and superstitious Indians, who, as the poet has written 
in the often quoted lines, 

" saw God in clouds, 

And heard him in the winds," 

would as soon have thought of attempting to grasp the red bolts 
of the lightning in their naked hands, as to have gone counter to 
the will of one they fancied was directly inspired by heaven. 

Again, the medicine addressed them in a few words ; and again, 
the doom was fixed, for every tongue rang with the terrible word, 
"Pau-guk! Death!" 

The Flying Crow looked sadly into the eyes of the old hunter, 
wrung his hand warmly for an instant, and then retired to his 
wigwam, and covering his face with his blanket, strove to shut 
out all of sight and sound. Mink Curtiss, too, ceased to plead for 
those he had learned to love as if they had been of his own flesh 
and blood ; and returning to their side, said, in a voice that was 
tremulous with emotion, " I've tried ter save yer, boys, all I 
could ; but it hain't bin of no use. I told them that yer had never 
done onythin' erginst them, and that I would gladly give my life 
fer yers. And now, onless ther good Lord takes ther matter into 
His own hands and yer sich good boys too." 

" Father ! mother ! " sighed both in a breath ; and home arose 
before them in all its attractiveness, home glorified, from the 
fact that they would never see it again. 

" Ef yer kin think of er leetle prayer," continued the old man, 
with his eyelids heavy with tears, " and I know that yer mother 
must have taught yer one, yer had better say it now ; fer ther 
agerny of torture may come very soon, and then yer mought not 
have strength." 

The boys dropped upon their knees ; the memory of the holy 
calm of such a time in their father's house, when the evening de- 
votions were wafted aloft upon angel wings, stole over them. The 
old hunter followed their example, with bowed head and upraised 
hands, and the eldest boy poured forth, with a fervor he had 
never done before, the sweetest and purest of all petitions, 
that matchless, inspired hymn of adoration the LORD'S PRAYER. 



1 868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 453 

The Indians stood awe-stricken and astonished for a moment 
after it was finished, and whispered, one to the other, " that the 
palefaces were talking to the Great Spirit ; " the medicine urged 
them on to deeds of violence ; and the " Amen " had scarcely 
ceased to thrill upon their ears, before they were whirling around 
in the wild, fantastic scalp-dance. Lashing themselves to fury, 
each straining themselves to leap higher, to perform more gro- 
tesque actions, to shout louder than their fellows, they continued 
to whirl around to the monotonous beating of the drum, until even 
their iron natures became exhausted. 

" Now, boys," said Mink Curtiss, " yer might as well bergin ter 
nerve yerself fer ther struggle. Stand jest as firm as ther post ; 
and mind, when er knife or er hatchet comes er wizzin' near yer, 
that yer don't dodge. Ef yer do, it'll be sure ter hit yer. Pray 
fer me, boys ; and may ther good Lord have marcy upon our 
souls, and take us hum ter glory ! " 

A half-a-dozen of the savages now advanced, bound the old 
man to the post of torture, and the boys to trees at a little dis- 
tance, leaving only their heads at liberty ; for, with the very refine- 
ment of torture, they wished to see them move when the keen 
steel was thrown near them. 

" Rermember what I told yer ! " shouted the old hunter ; " and 
try ter fergive them, fer they am but poor heathens, and think they 
am erdoing right." 

" Farewell, Mr. Curtiss ! " answered Frank. 

" Good-by ; may Heaven bless you ! " came from the lips of 
George. " Good-by, brother ! " 

" Good-by, George ! Oh, our poor father and mother ! " 

The children of the tribe crowded around them, and shot at 
them with their blunt-headed arrows, and threw their edgeless 
knives for a time. Then they gave way to the younger braves, 
who were panting to win a name, to be enrolled in the list of 
warriors, and to travel, for the first time, the war-path, and gain 
the first scalp. And not without inflicting some wounds were 
the hatchets hurled, and the stony-headed arrows driven. To 
strike the tree as closely as was possible, without hitting the 
prisoner, was their object ; and any failure to do so, any drawing 
of blood, was hailed with a shout of derision. With the most 
intense interest, the old man watched the noble conduct of the 
boys. They behaved like heroes. With scarcely a quiver, with 
an almost unblanched cheek and undimmed eyes, they braved the 



454 MINK CURTISS ; OR, [November, 

impending fate. Each was trying to outdo the other, each cheer- 
ing his brother. At least, they would go, hand in hand as it were, 
to that other and better land beyond the grave; and there was a 
sad consolation in the thought of their not being separated, even 
in death. 

But the progress of the torture was far too slow to please the 
bloodthirsty medicine. " Let the young braves retire," he com- 
manded ; " and the warriors take their places. Look at yonder 
sun. It is red as the heart of the paleface ; and its fires are 
thirsting to be quenched from the veins of the palefaces." 

It was very little urging that the braves needed. They had 
looked with scornful indifference upon the performance of 
the younger portion of the tribe, and were eager to show their 
skill. So, dividing into groups, they surrounded the prisoners, 
and very soon the trees and posts bristled with their keen-edged 
weapons. The boys, from their lack of self-command, were in 
the most imminent danger, and they received many flesh-wounds, 
that, smarting severely, added very much to their restlessness. 
But the old hunter was the chief target. The others were con- 
sidered too small game for those who had been long upon the 
war-path, and won a name ; and when the order was given for 
them to desist, he was so surrounded by the weapons, that it 
would have been extremely difficult for him to move. 

" The torture of the knife, the arrow, and the hatchet, is ended," 
said the grim old medicine. " The men of the tribe have shown 
their skill ; they have proved themselves skilful ; their names will 
be sung in the wigwams, and around the council -fires. Let the 
torture of fire begin." 

The old hunter heard the words, and a groan of agony escaped 
him. But it was not for himself, although he had seen prisoners 
at the stake, and watched the flames with a heart bursting with 
vengeance. He thought, with the terrible death staring him in 
the face, of the boys, and the promise he had made to their parents 
only to be broken, though without any fault on his part ; and this 
thought was more bitter to him than all the bodily torture that 
might follow. The medicine made a sign with his living, writh- 
ing wand, and the boys were removed to the post of torture again, 
and bound, back to back with the old man, and green withes of 
the pliant elm woven around them, so as to sustain their forms, 
even after the spirit had fled. Another sign, and the squaws ran 
forward, with arms and blankets filled with dry bark and branches ; 



1868.] LIFE IN THE BACKWOODS. 455 

with splinters of the resinous pine and hemlock, and the inflam- 
mable covering of the birch, and piled them breast-high around the 
hopelessly doomed ones. 

" I had prayed to ther good Lord. I had hoped that something 
might turn up," whispered Mink Curtiss, hoarsely, but distinctly 
enough for the boys to hear, " ter save us at least you, from this 
ar death ; but it am not ter be it am not ter be. And it am all 
my fault. I oughter have known that thar whar no trusting er 
redskin, and that when they seem ther most peaceful, they am ther 
surest ter be er preparin' fer er fight." 

" No," answered Frank, choking down the sobs that threatened 
to strangle him as he thought of home, and the loved ones there. 
" No ; it was not your fault in the least. No one could have fore- 
told that such a thing would happen." 

" I thank yer, my brave boy ; and it takes er great load off from 
my heart ter know that yer don't blame me. But then, there is 
your father and mother ! " 

He could not banish that thought from his mind. If it had been 
otherwise, he would have laughed death to scorn. 

" The palefaces are singing their death-song," said the warriors 
to each other ; and it appeared to them as if such was in reality 
the case, for the two boys, in order to sustain their sinking cour- 
age, struck up at the moment, a song they had learned in their 
eastern sabbath-school ; and the woods rang with praise of the 
beautiful river, "that flows by the throne of the Lord." 

" It is their last song," replied the medicine, sullenly. " Let the 
pile be fired." 

In an instant, the inflammable pile was one mass of flames, and 
the black smoke rolled upward, hiding the prisoners from all eyes. 
A hundred deaths were around them they were wrapped in a 
winding-sheet of fire ! 




456 



OUR LITTLE GHOST. 



[November, 




OUR LITTLE GHOST. 

OFT, in the silence of the night, 

When the lonely moon rides high, 
When wintry winds are whistling, 

And we hear the owl's shrill cry, 
In the quiet, dusky chamber, 

By the flickering firelight, 
Rising up between two sleepers, 

Comes a spirit all in white. 

A winsome little ghost it is, 

Rosy-cheeked, and bright of eye j 
With yellow curls all breaking loose 

From the small cap pushed awry. 
Up it climbs among the pillows, 

For the " big dark " brings no dread. 
And a baby's boundless fancy 

Makes a kingdom of a bed. 

A fearless little ghost it is ; 

Safe the night seems as the day ; 
The moon is but a gentle face, 

And the sighing winds are gay. 
The solitude is full of friends, 

And the hour brings no regrets ; 
For, in this happy little soul, 

Shines a sun that never sets. 

A merry little ghost it is, 

Dancing gayly by itself, 
On the flowery counterpane, 

Like a tricksy household elf; 
Nodding to the fitful shadows, 

As they flicker on the wall ; 
Talking to familiar pictures, 

Mimicking the owl's shrill call. 



1 868.] OUR LITTLE GHOST. 

A thoughtful little ghost it is ; 

And, when lonely gambols tire, 
With chubby hands on chubby knees, 

It sits winking at the fire. 
Fancies innocent and lovely 

Shine before those baby-eyes, 
Endless fields of dandelions, 

Brooks, and birds, and butterflies. 

A loving little ghost it is : 

When crept into its nest, 
Its hand on father's shoulder laid, 

Its head on mother's breast, 
It watches each familiar face, 

With a tranquil, trusting eye ; 
And, like a sleepy little bird, 

Sings its own soft lullaby. 

Then those who feigned to sleep before, 

Lest baby play till dawn, 
Wake and watch their folded flower 

Little rose without a thorn. 
And, in the silence of the night, 

The hearts that love it most 
Pray -tenderly above its sleep, 

" God bless our little ghost ! " 



457 



L. M. ALCOTT. 




458 



WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 



[November, 




WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 

VIII. 

O more pleasant out-of- 
door talks now," said 
Will, dolefully, as he 
looked at the frost- 
bitten garden, and 
listened to the wild 
November rain. 

"We can remember 
the pleasant things, 
and read about them, 
for grandma says she 
will lend us the books 
and explain the pic- 
tures," returned Polly, 

who sat rocking cosily in her little chair before the fire, enjoying 
the bright blaze as much as the plump pussy dozing in her lap. 

" I'd rather see and hear about live things. I wish birds and 
bugs and animals didn't fly away, or go to sleep all winter ; for it 
don't leave us any queer or interesting things to examine and 
talk about. Can't you think of some nice live animal or insect to 
tell of, grandma ? I feel like hearing stories, and so does Polly." 

As Will spoke, grandma put down her book, and answered, 
kindly, " All animals don't migrate or sleep. I see two interest- 
ing ones in the room now." 

The children stared about them, but did not guess what she meant. 
" Is it the flies on the window-pane, and the mice in the wall ? " 
asked Will. 

" No ; it's two larger creatures." 
" She means us ! " cried Polly, thinking she had got it. 
" I said animals ; you are human beings. Don't you find Puss 
and Snap interesting ? " said grandma, pointing to the dog, curled 
up under the sofa, and Mrs. Mouser, purring luxuriously on her 
little mistress's knee. 

" But we know all about them." 

" Not everything about their relations ; for your pets are rather 
stupid, commonplace specimens. I read some pleasant anecdotes 
about cats and dogs, the other day, which will show you how faith- 
ful, wise, and affectionate these dumb creatures are." 



i868.] WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 459 

" We should like that," said both the children, as Polly put down 
the cat's-cradle she was making, and Will spread himself on the 
rug, with Snap at his side. 

"Which shall I tell first?" 

" Cats for Polly, dogs for me ; and tell Polly's first," said Will, 
for, in learning to be kind to helpless creatures, he had learned 
to be kind to every one, and that is true politeness. 

" At a certain convent in Paris, the cook used to divide the 
dinner into a dozen plates, and the brothers would come and get 
their portions. One day, while the cook went to ring the bell in 
the hall to call them, some one stole one of the bits of meat. 
This happened several times ; and the cook, at last, resolved to 
watch in the kitchen, and see who did it. While he stayed in the 
room, no one came, and, the meat was all safe. So, he decided to 
stay always, and had a whistle to call the brothers. But the sly 
thief was not cheated in this way ; and soon after, while Mr. Cook 
was guarding the dinner, the door-bell rang, and he had to go. 
Nobody was at the door, and he ran back in a rage, to find one 
plate empty again. Next day, when the bell rang, instead of 
answering it, the cook hid in a closet, and a minute after the bell 
had sounded, in at the window bounded the big cat, and whisked 
out again with her prize. Anxious to see how she managed the 
bell, the cook posted himself at a side-window, from which he 
could see the door. In France, many of the bells are attached to 
ropes, such as we have inside our houses. Pussy ran and caught 
the string in her paws, took a good swing which jingled the bell, 
and then scampered away to get her meat. The monks were so 
amused at her cunning, that they ordered an extra dish to be set 
for her every day." 

" Well, that's funny; but if remarkable cats do such things, I'm 
glad mine is stupid," said Polly, stroking her pet, who purred 
louder than ever, as if she quite agreed with her. 

" The other story I read was of an English cat, whose master 
taught her to catch birds and bring them to him without hurting 
them ; for he kept many in cages, to study their ways before he 
killed and stuffed them. This cat formed a friendship with a 
little dog in the house, and used to invite him to dine with her 
whenever she had anything nice. The dog was a naughty little 
fellow, always getting into disgrace, and being whipped. The 
switch used on these occasions was kept in a corner of the 
kitchen ; and this stick used to vanish so mysteriously that the 
master could not understand it. There were no children about ; 



460 WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. [November, 

the servants disliked the dog, and would not have so befriended 
him ; yet stick after stick disappeared, apparently without hands. 
At last, it was discovered that the affectionate old cat carried it 
off in her mouth, rather than let her little friend be whipped." 

" Three cheers for pussy ! " cried Polly ; and her own cat took 
the compliment to herself, moving her tail with a stately air, and 
opening her yellow eyes like a pair of little moons. 

" My other story is about a dog, and was written by a famous 
Dr. Brown. He was walking in a London street, when something 
gently pulled him by the leg ; and looking down, he saw a dirty, 
shabby little terrier, who watched him with imploring eyes, and 
began to beg. The kind gentleman patted the poor thing, and 
went on ; but the gentle nip came again, and again the intelligent 
eyes seemed imploring something, and the muddy little paws 
begged eagerly. The man stopped, and looked a't the dog, trying 
to see what he wanted. This seemed to satisfy the terrier, who ran 
off in a hurry, stopping now and then to look back, and bark, as if 
saying, * Come on ; oh, do come on ! ' Dr. Brown followed, till they 
came to the back gate of an old empty house. Here, the dog ran 
under the gate, and barked on the other side, as if inviting his 
new friend in. The gate was locked, too high to climb over, and 
the gentleman was about to give it up, when the dog's voice was 
heard at another part of the wall, whining eagerly. Dr. Brown 
followed the sound, and found a broken place where he could 
squeeze through. Little Nip (as he was afterward named), was 
delighted at this, and ran frisking to a shed, where stood an old 
coach-body, without wheels. Looking in, Dr. Brown saw a fine 
pointer, with five puppies, the poor mother half-starved, and full 
of anxiety about her little ones, who were howling with hunger. 
A sad sight, for it was evident that the mother dared not leave 
her family long enough to find food for herself, and there was no 
one to feed and comfort her. Good little Nip had done his best ; 
but, as he had no home or master of his own, he could not help 
much, and so had gone to find better friends for the starving 
family. Of course, the kind man took them all home ; and you 
can imagine how happy the poor mother was when she was well 
fed, and her yelping children fast asleep in a warm bed. Being 
a valuable dog, who had probably been lost, she and her puppies 
were sold after a time ; but Nip was kept by Dr. Brown, and for 
sixteen years, was a good, happy, and faithful little friend." 

" By George ! I like that ! " cried Will, so loud that Snap 



i868.] WILL'S WONDER-BOOK. 461 

jumped up with a bark, as if he said, " So do I." " Now, old 
fellow, you just remember that story ; and whenever you find any 
poor, hurt, or hungry dogs, you let me know, and we'll see to 'em," 
added Will ; and Snap listened with so much intelligence in his 
soft brown eyes, that it seemed as if he understood what was said 
to him ; for he wagged his tail, and licked his master's face, in a 
grateful and approving manner. 

" Since we began our talks this summer, I have set up a scrap- 
book," said grandma, " in which I put all the anecdotes about 
birds, insects, and animals, that I find in the papers ; and many of 
the things I have told you came from that. I think it. would be a 
good plan for you to help me fill my book, by writing down all the 
little discoveries you make about the habits of creatures, and sav- 
ing any accounts of them you may come across, and the stories 
about them others tell you. In this way, we shall make a pleasant 
book, which we shall enjoy reading, and showing to our friends." 

" I'd like that," said Polly ; " for now I've got fond of watching 
bugs and flies, and all sorts of creatures I used to hate ; and I see 
so many new and pretty things about them, that I want other chil- 
dren to know how nice they are." 

" The fellows at our school often tell jolly stories about their dogs 
and pets, that I like to hear ; so, I'll get them to help me, and when 
we go hunting and fishing, we'll remember about the creatures we 
see, and write it down," added Will, pleased with the new idea. 

" I think I will take for you a new little paper, called ' Our 
Dumb Animals,' which is got up by some wise and charitable 
gentlemen, who hope to help the poor creatures who cannot help 
themselves, by lessening the wrongs done them through igno- 
rance, carelessness, or cruelty. In this excellent paper, we shall 
find many touching stories and interesting facts for our scrap-book, 
and can lend it, besides," said grandma, glad to see that her simple 
little experiment had done some good to the children. For now, 
Will shot no more song-birds, never stoned frogs, drowned cats, or 
whipped his pony and Polly neither screamed at spiders, nor ran 
away from toads ; but found something beautiful or interesting in 
all these little neighbors, and was learning the sweetest charity 
toward whatever was ugly, weak, or friendless. 

" What will we call the scraps when we get all the pages full ? " 
asked Polly. 

" As he will probably do most toward filling it," said grandma, 
" we will call it Will's Wonder-Book.'" 



462 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 



[November, 




ANACHRONISMS OF LITERATURE 
AND ART. Shakspeare is full of 
them. In the " Comedy of Errors," 
he alludes to ducats, marks, and 
guilders, and also to the striking 
of a clock in the ancient city of 
Ephesus. In " King John " and 
" Macbeth," he speaks of cannon. 
He makes Coriolanus a contempo- 
rary with Alexander the Great, 
Cato, and Galen, all of whom lived 
centuries afterwards. Cassius, in 
"Julius Cassar," also speaks of a 
clock striking the hours. Beau- 
mont and Fletcher make a man 
discharge a pistol, who must have 
lived long before the Christian era. 

The painters do not behave much 
better. In one of Albert Durer's 
pictures, representing St. Peter de- 
nying the Saviour, there is a Roman 
soldier in the background, smoking 
a tobacco-pipe. A Dutch painter, 
in a painting of the " Sacrifice of 
Isaac," makes Abraham point a 
blunderbuss at his son's head, as 
an argument for obedience. Tin- 
doret paints the Israelites gather- 
ing manna in the wilderness as 
carrying guns. Another master, in 
a picture of Adam and Eve, places 
a German student in the back- 
ground, shooting ducks. Similar 
absurdities have been introduced 
into subjects of too sacred a na- 
ture to be connected with what is 
ludicrous, and so we forbear to 
mention them here. The writer, 



however, saw, at the sale of the 
paintings of Joseph Bonaparte, at 
his residence in Bordentown, New 
Jersey, a number of years since, a 
piece by an old Dutch master, in 
which the old patriarchs and their 
people are represented as coming 
out of huts, for all the world like 
Indian wigwams, with muskets on 
their shoulders. 

STRYCHNINE. The tree from 
which strychnine comes is called 
the strychnos mix vomica. 1 1 grows 
in Ceylon, and in several districts 
of India, is of moderate size, with 
thick and shining leaves, and a 
short, crooked stem. In the fruit 
season, it is readily recognized by 
its rich orange - colored berries, 
about as large as golden pippins 
the favorite food of many kinds 
of birds within which are the 
flat, round seeds, not an inch in 
diameter, ash-gray in color, and 
covered with very minute silky 
hairs. The Germans fancy they 
can discover a resemblance in them 
to crows' eyes, but the likeness is 
purely imaginary. The seed is the 
deadly poison nut. It was early 
used as a medicine by the Hindoos, 
and its nature and properties were 
understood by Oriental doctors 
long before it was known to for- 
eign nations. " Dog-killer " and 
" fish-scale " are two of its Arabic 
names. It is stated that at present, 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S SCRAP-BAG. 



463 



the natives of Hindostan often take 
it for many months, continuously, 
in much the same way as the opium- 
eater eats opium. They commence 
wkh taking the eighth part of a nut 
a day, and gradually increase their 
allowance to an entire nut, which 
would be about twenty grains, If 
they eat it directly before or after 
food, no unpleasant effects are pro- 
duced ; but if they neglect these 
precautions, spasms result. Ac- 
cording to popular rumor, it is 
chiefly used in Christian lands by 
the manufacturers of "pure im- 
ported liquors." 

BISULPHITE of lime is capable 
of some important practical appli- 
cations. A fluid drachm added to 
a pound of spermaceti, bear's grease, 
cold cream, lard, or other oily prep- 
arations or ointments, will cause 
them to remain perfectly sweet for a 
long time, sometimes many months, 
preventing any taint of rancidity. 
Beef tea and jellies, which turn 
sour so readily in sick-rooms, or 
hospitals, can be kept unchanged 
by stirring in a few drops of the 
bisulphate solution to each pint. 
Clothing soaked in the solution and 
hung up, becomes perfectly disin- 
fected, without any disagreeable 
odor, as in the case of carbolic 
acid. It can also be used in the 
preservation of specimens of natu- 
ral history and anatomy. 

THE Japanese have discovered, 
that a few seconds previous to an 
earthquake, the magnet temporarily 
loses its power. They have in- 
geniously constructed a light frame, 
supporting a horse-shoe magnet, 
beneath which is a cup of bell- 
metal ; to the armature is attached 
a weight, so that upon the magnet 
becoming paralyzed, the weight 
drops, and, striking the cup, gives 
the alarm. Every one in the house 
then seeks the open air for safety. 

WHAT sort of a cravat would a 
hog be most likely to choose ? A 
pig's tye. 



" I NEVER did see such a wind 
and such a storm," said a man in 
a coffee-room. 

" And pray, sir," inquired a 
would-be wit, " since you saw the 
wind and the storm, what might 
their color be ? " 

" The wind blew and the storm 
rose," was the ready rejoinder. 



HERBERT F. ROBINSON, who says 
he is a lad of seventeen, sends the 
following lines, which we think wor- 
thy of a place in the Museum : 

COUNTING THE STARS. 

By the eastern window, 

Tired of active play, 
Stand two little children, 

In the twilight gray. 
All day long their laughter 

Through the house has rung, 
Wakening merry echoes 

These old walls among. 

As each star bursts softly 

From the darkening blue, 
It is quickly noticed 

By these watchers two ; 
And, when darker shadows 

Cross the window-bars, 
There they still are stationed, 

Numbering the stars. 

Deeper grows the twilight ; 

And, as moonbeams fair 
Fall with silver radiance 

On their golden hair, 
They, with clouded faces, 

To each other call, 
That the stars are many 

None could count them all. 

Now, their mother bears them 

Through the spacious hall, 
Up the winding stairway, 

To their chamber small. 
Soon in quiet slumber, 

Sinks each little head ; 
While the stars are keeping 

Watch above their bed. 



464 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



[November, 




sends the longest list of correct 
answers to the September puzzles, 
and wins his first prize. 



QUESTIONS, ENIGMAS, CHARADES, 
ETC. 

296. My first is in cupboard, but 

not in shelf; 
My next is in robbery, but 

not in pelf; 
My third is in firkin, but not 

in tub \ 
My fourth is in tire, but not 

in hub ; 
My fifth is in Brooklyn, but 

not in New York ; 
My sixth is in Paris, but not 

in Cork ; 
My seventh is in anger, but 

not in hate ; 



297. 



298. 



299. 



My eighth is in good, but 

not in first-rate ; 
My whole is a city in an 

Eastern State. 

Carter. 

I am composed of 24 letters : 
My 22, 5, 3, 8, is something 

much used by carpenters. 
My 20, u, 7, 15, 16, 12, is a 

city in Europe. 
My 9, 2, 23, 8, ii, i, is a 

boy's name. 
My 8, 21, 6, 4, 14, is often 

used at the dinner-table. 
My 13, 24, 19, 17, 18, is a 

disease. 

My 10, 21, is an interjection. 
My whole is the name of a 

city, and the state in which 

it is situated. 

Dictator. 

I am composed of 8 letters : 

My i, 3, 4, 5, is an article of 
clothing. 

My 4, 6, 5, 8, is an article of 
of food. 

My 4, 3, 7, is a fish. 

My 2, 3, 8, is useful in walk- 
ing. 

My whole is a kind of jail. 

Snow Drop. 

My second I am, and my third 

I am ; 
My first I hope to be ; 



i868.] 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. 



465 




But I never wish to be my 

whole, 
'Tis far too small for me. 

Aubrey. 

300. My first is a heathen deity; 
my second is a weight ; 
and my whole is a city. 
Sagittaw. 

FILL THE FOLLOWING BLANKS 
WITH THE SAME WORDS TRANS- 
POSED : 



was exhibited in 
Violet Forest. 

floated upon the 
Delia. 



303. The fellow about it. 

Minx. 



304. We turned their into 

the . Fred. 

ANAGRAMS. 

305. Mature Peter. J. K. 

306. I create corps. F. R. S. 

307. Coral rope. A. O. 

308. Rap me bun. Auntie. 

309. Behead a bird, transpose, and 

leave a kind of moisture. 

Hero. 

320. 



310. Curtail a boy's name, and 

leave a girl's name. 

Harry of the West. 

311. Suppose a woman, sending her 

little girl on an errand to the 
grocer's, should have forgot- 
ten to mention the potatoes, 
in what one word could she 
call the child, and remind her 
of them ? Tempy. 

WORDS ENIGMATICALLY EX- 
PRESSED. 

312. Combustion department. 

Auntie. 

313. A male cowl. A. R. T. 

314. Torture the animal. Rena. 

315. Associate vessel. 

Minnehaha. 

316. Areowebeearetea Beyouareen- 

ess. Wolverine. 



317. 10005550. 

318. 50011080. 



Bittersweet. 
Violet Forest. 



319. From the name of the capital 
of one of the United States 
may be made over one hun- 
dred and twenty-five small 
words in common use. What 
' is the name of the city ? and 
what are the words ? 

Eugene. 




'Answers must reach me before the $th of December. Those re- 
ceived later will not be credited. 



4 66 



AUNT SUE'S PUZZLE DRAWER. [November, 



Hif 2 ' Send all communications in- 
tended for the PUZZLE DRAWER to 
"Aunt Sue," Box 1 1 1, P. O., Brook- 
lyn, N. Y. 

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN SEPTEM- 
BER NUMBER. 

240. The universal clothes-wringer. 

241. Wheelbarrow. 

242. George Washington. 

243. Lois, oils, soil. 

244. Craven, cavern. 
24$. Dame, made, mead. 

246. Wasp, paws, swap. 

247. Wee, ewe. 

248. Times, smite ; ( " Ells sell " 

and "Pears spare," cred- 
ited. 

249. Crocus. 

2$o. Crown imperial. 

2$i. Narcissus. 

252. Love lies bleeding. 

253. Match, chat. 

254. Spray, pray, ray, ay, y. 

255. Wheat, heat, eat, at, t. 

256. Pirate : (i) rat, (2) pie, (3) rip, 

(4) tear, (5) tar, (6) rite, (7) 
art, (8) ripe, (9) reap, (10) 
pear, (n) tire, (12) tare, (13) 
par, (14) rate, (15) rap, (16) 
prate, (17) pair, (18) ear. 

257. Breda, bread. 

258. Elvas, slave. 

259. Toro, root. 

260. Thebes, behest. 

261. Kemi, Mike. 



262. Compassionate. 

263. Cross-bow. 

264. Barbel (barb L). 

265. Tallow (tall O). 

266. Combatant. 

267. Insulate. 

268. A one-eyed ox. 

269. Mix. 

270. Aim at a sure end, but bear 

your misfortunes with forti- 
tude. 

Of the above Puzzles, 

Willie Mack answers all but 259, 
260, 261, 264, 268, 270. 

Joe Kose answers all but 248, 2$o, 
259, 260, 262, 264, 265. 

Max' answers all but 245, 250, 257, 
258, 259, 264, 266, 268. 

C. W. J. answers all but 246, 249, 
253, 258, 259, 260, 261, 262, 
264, 266, 268, 270. 

Millard F. Richards answers all 
but 245, 250, 252, 254, 255, 
256, 257, 258, 259, 260, 261, 
262, 264, 266, 267, 270. 



NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 

Silas W. G. I will not only give 
you "sympathy," but can tell you 
how to get your "source of mortifica- 
tion " removed. There is, in New 
York, a doctor, who removes those 
" wine-stains " from the face (moles, 
tumors, scars, and "moth-patches "). 
He makes a few applications, which 
cause no pain ; and, presto^ the 
mark or mole peals off, disappears, 
and leave