    Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, January 26, 1897, by Various

    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
    other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
    whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
    the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
    www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
    to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.

    Title: Harper's Round Table, January 26, 1897

    Author: Various

    Release Date: October 16, 2019 [EBook #60509]

    Language: English

    Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

    *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S ROUND TABLE, JAN 26, 1897 ***

    Produced by Annie R. McGuire

BOYS AT SEA.
OWNEY, THE MAIL-DOG.
THE CHILDREN'S HOUR.
THE MIDDLETON BOWL.
A LOYAL TRAITOR.
THE FIGHTING SAVAGE.
BRONISLAU HUBERMANN AND LEONORA JACKSON.
THE "WARSPITE'S" CAPTAIN.
STREET SOUNDS.
THE REMARKABLE ADVENTURES OF SANDBOYS.
INTERSCHOLASTIC SPORT.
QUESTIONS FOR YOUNG MEN.
STAMPS.
THE CAMERA CLUB.

[Pg 305]

Copyright, 1897, by Harper & Brothers. All Rights Reserved.

published weekly. | NEW YORK, TUESDAY, JANUARY 26, 1897. | five cents a copy.
vol. xviii.—no. 900. |  | two dollars a year.

## BOYS AT SEA.

### BY W. CLARK RUSSELL.

Everybody will remember the exciting story of the ship Aberfoyle: how her Captain drank himself into delirium-tremens and then poisoned himself, how the crew mutinied, how the mate was washed overboard, and how this ship was eventually safely navigated to Melbourne by her second officer, who was little more than a boy. But perhaps the most memorable example of a boy's heroism is that of young Shotten. He was an apprentice on board a vessel called Trafalgar, which left Batavia fever-stricken, with the result that the superior officers perished, and young Shotten was left alone with the remains of a wicked ship's company to navigate the vessel. He carried her to Sydney in safety. His story is a true romance of the deep. This fine young fellow had not only to fight the ocean and its tremendous perils, he had also to handle a set of desperate, reckless men who refused to recognize his authority, and, charged with the dreadful spirit of mutiny and murder, scarcely suffered the boy[Pg 306] commander to save their lives. Stories of this sort need the pen of a Defoe; they should be submitted to the world by the hand of genius, that, being in all senses things of beauty, they might be immortal as inspirations in such hours of conflict as young Shotten passed through. It is to be regretted that writers for boys do not uniformly invent with some perception of the good taste, sound judgment, and high aspirations and feelings of the young public they address. The typical boy hero of the boy's book is, for the most part, impossible; the lad as he reads grows disdainful, he may even detect blunders in seamanship or in the employment of nautical words, and his confidence is gravely shaken. No impression is left, no animating and lofty influence exerted, because the tale is trash; it is not true; the boy knows it never could have been true. I was once a boy myself, though I find this hard to believe, and I remember that the sea-stories which influenced me and which did me most good were tales founded on the facts of the ocean, plain and sincere narratives of the stern realities of the deep, such as this of Shotten. A young apprentice in Shotten's situation might, after reading his story, take courage from it, find an example in it, and achieve an end not less heroic than the model he imitated.

Can it be imagined that any one of M. Jules Verne's boy heroes could animate a lad by his impossible, albeit ingenious adventures, into the rendering of such splendid services as the whole English-speaking world was praising in young Shotten in 1895? It is a truth that boys at sea have done daring and glorious things, and their stories should be told by able hands for boys to read, because there is no calling that makes, in times of disaster, such demands upon the stout heart and all that is manly in the human qualities as the ocean life. One of the pluckiest boys that ever rose to rank in the British royal navy, and to the achievement of a great reputation for prudence, foresight, and gallantry scarcely inferior to Nelson's, was Admiral Hopson, who was born in the Isle of Wight, left an orphan when a child, and apprenticed by the parish to a tailor. The tailor's board, however, soon grew hateful to the little fellow; he yearned for quite another sort of board—I mean shipboard. And being one day alone in the shop, looking across the sea, he spied a squadron of men-of-war floating slowly around Dunnose.

Acting upon the impulse of the instant, he rushed from the shop, sprang into a boat, cast her painter loose, and contrived, by sculling with all his might, to reach the Admiral's ship. He was received and entered as a volunteer. Early next morning the British squadron fell in with a number of Frenchmen, and a hot action began. Little Hopson obeyed orders with wonderful alacrity and fearlessness; but when the fight had proceeded for two hours he grew impatient, and, turning to a seaman, asked why the ships were firing at one another. Jack answered that the action must continue till the white rag at the enemy's mast-head was struck. The ships were then engaged yard-arm to yard-arm. The air was thick with smoke of gunpowder. Hopson sprang into the shrouds, ran out to the main-yard-arm, gained the French Admiral's yard-arm, and running aloft, cut away the French flag, and brought it safely on board his own ship. The effect was amazing. The British yelled "Victory!" believing the French had struck; and the Frenchmen fled below, not doubting, now that their Admiral's flag had disappeared, that the battle was lost. For this surprising act of heroism young Hopson was promoted to the quarter-deck.

Every one must regret that more is not known of these gallant worthies of past times. Why is not the story of their services written for boys? Who amongst living authors who produce literature for the rising generation could invent a more thrilling, romantic, and exciting tale than this which I have only glanced at? Here is another example of the courage of a boy and what the spirit of a lad may achieve in an hour of grievous peril at sea: A famous frigate, La Tribune, was lost on the Halifax coast one November towards the close of the last century. Four men escaped in the jolly-boat, eight others clung to the main and fore tops; the remainder of the large ship's company perished. The inhabitants approached so close to the wreck as to be able to shout to and hear the shouts of the poor fellows upon the masts.

One of the first to attempt to succor them was a boy thirteen years old belonging to Herring Cove; he jumped in a little skiff at about eleven o'clock in the day, and with extraordinary labor and skill so manœuvred his tiny ark as to back her under the frigate's foretop, and two of the shipwrecked men dropped into her. The boat was too small to carry more. The boy conveyed them in safety ashore, and the record of this inimitable piece of youthful heroism affirms that he "had them instantly conveyed to a comfortable habitation." The 'longshore men, spiritless and afraid, in spite of this glorious example, held back, and six men remained to be saved. The undaunted boy at once put off again; but the sea and the boat combined opposed too heavy a task to his strength exhausted by his previous labors, and he failed to reach the wreck. But his example was at last an animation; some boats were launched, and after much trouble and in the face of grave peril, they brought off in triumph the remaining survivors.

It is a story that should be written in letters of gold. But what will you think of the enthusiasm of the chroniclers of that lad's deed when I tell you that I am unable to give his name? I have searched for it—to no purpose. All we know is he was a Boy. But he was among the very noblest, and with something of emotion after all these long years I salute the darling little chap's memory.

At the battle of Copenhagen a lad so distinguished himself as to excite the admiration of the great Nelson. He was a Danish boy, about sixteen years of age, by some called Welmoes, but others have given him a different name. Be that as it may, this young fellow was in command of a praam, a sort of raft armed with small cannon and manned by a company of some twenty-four men. Nelson's flag was flying aboard the Elephant; the heroic young Dane resolved to attack the famous Admiral, whose name was a terror, and he forthwith shoved off in his raft from the shore, and gained the stern of the line-of-battle ship, then thundering in broadsides. The marines of the flag-ship promptly discharged their muskets at the gallant little band, and the praam was rapidly converted into a shambles. Twenty fine fellows lay dead and dying, but their boy commander, who stood up to his waist amongst the bodies, stuck to his post until the truce was proclaimed. Nelson had observed the splendid behavior of this lad. He held him in memory, and when he was banqueted at the palace, he begged the Prince to introduce young Welmoes to him. When the boy was presented, the most famous of all sea chieftains put his arm round his neck and kissed him, and, addressing the Prince, exclaimed that the young fellow deserved to be made an Admiral.

"If, my lord," was the answer, "I were to make all my brave officers admirals, I should have no captains or lieutenants in my service."

Twice were the wonderful battles in which Lord Nelson fought associated with the heroism of boys. One of the French ships at the battle of the Nile was L'Orient. She took fire, and hundreds of her people sprang overboard. Amongst those who perished in her was Commander Casabianca. All will remember Mrs. Hemans's moving verses beginning,

The boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled.

This boy was the Commodore's son; he was but ten years of age, yet behaved with amazing intrepidity whilst the battle raged. When the ship took fire his father bade him remain on deck, and he stuck to his post until the huge ship blew up. Memories of this sort should stir the blood of the young. They cannot be too often recited. They quicken the higher impulse, shape fancies into ardent resolution, and all will believe that they must be infinitely more valuable, even in an educational sense, than narratives of impossible adventure and of fictitious achievements which cannot serve as encouragements, because[Pg 307] even the smallest boy will perceive that they are impracticable.

I have spoken of Lord Nelson, and of this great sailor many stories of his spirit when a boy are told. Some of these tales must be viewed with suspicion; one or two, perhaps, are worth recalling. The lad joined an expedition to the frozen sea under the command of Captain Phipps, afterwards Lord Musgrave. One night, when it was as bright as daylight, the ship lying hard and fast amid the ice, young Nelson took his gun and left the ship to shoot a bear which he had seen a long way off. Something went wrong with the lock of his musket, whereupon he grasped the weapon by the barrel, and gave chase to the beast, which went off on a trot. Having killed the bear, the boy returned to his ship, the Captain of which reprimanded him for going upon the ice without leave, and with a stern countenance asked what motive could have induced him to attack with a useless gun so formidable a beast as a polar-bear. The young hero's reply was to the point. "I wished, sir," he said, "to get the skin for my father."

All boys who are acquainted with the life of Lord Nelson—and every boy, be he American or English, who speaks the language in which this article is written, ought to read it and gather the meaning of that wonderful career—must have heard of Captain Trowbridge, one of the Admiral's favorite officers. He was the son of a baker, and rose by his splendid gallantry to be an Admiral and a baronet. One story of his fearlessness when a lad recalls Hopson's feat. He was midshipman aboard the Seahorse when she chased and captured the French ship Sartine. Much of the glory of that day was owing to young Trowbridge, who, watching his chance and shouting for followers, boarded the enemy from the forecastle, and with his own hands hauled down the French colors. Perhaps not every commander of a victorious ship would have proved so frankly honorable as was Captain Farmer of the Seahorse, for afterwards, whilst dining with the commander-in-chief, Sir Edward Hughes, he checked the congratulations he was being overwhelmed with by saying that the victory was entirely owing to the heroism of a boy, a midshipman named Trowbridge. Sir Edward was so struck and delighted that he became the boy's fast friend, and was of signal help to him in the earlier stages of his splendid career. These and the like are stories which are true, and they should be made known to boys. My instances are British; but scores of inspiriting examples may be culled from the American records.

## OWNEY, THE MAIL-DOG.

OWNEY.

Had that extremely humorous cur Crab, the property of one Launce, in Shakespeare's Two Gentlemen of Verona, met with an accident terminating his career, his master could have found a successor in Owney, the railway mail-dog, a product of our own time, who would be fully qualified to fill the shoes, or rather the place of the other.

Owney is a terrier, now ten years old, and weighs about thirty-five pounds. By his own exertions he has achieved a fame of which to be proud, and as a traveller a distinction that few men can boast of. When a pup he decided upon his vocation, and in accordance with his views he entered the basement of the post-office at Albany and attached himself to the regular mail service. His devotion to the self-appointed duty of guarding mail-sacks interested the clerks, and as a reward he was permitted to accompany them on trips in the mail-cars.

Owney recognized this as an upward step in his career, and permitting his independence to assert itself, he would disappear for weeks at a time, returning at last to his adopted home at Albany. The numerous railway tags attached to his collar upon his return showed that he had been travelling with the mails. The route his dogship selected sometimes embraced the four extreme points of the United States, and it was, and is, no uncommon thing to find him wearing such tags as Seattle, Washington, Galveston, Texas, and Tampa, Florida, after one of these trips.

One day, thinking that some mail-pouches for Washington from Albany might contain state secrets to be zealously guarded, he assumed the duty, and thus received his introduction to John Wanamaker, then Postmaster-General. Mr. Wanamaker presented Owney with an elaborate harness, and, proud of his present, the dog made an extended tour. The weight of the tags gathered on this trip at last equalled his own, and, unable to stand the strain, he was compelled to return home and be relieved of his honors.

There are few post-offices and railway lines in the United States and Canada that have not entertained Owney. His Canadian experience was, however, a lamentable one, as a railway collision deprived him of an eye and part of one ear. The North German Lloyd steamers have carried him as passenger a number of times, and the P. and O. steamers took him to the far East during the Chino-Japanese war. During this trip he inspected the mail service of India.

Nothing will induce him to ride in any but the mail-cars, where, curled up on the pouches, he will permit none but the mail-clerks to touch them. These men are very fond of him, and he never lacks for attention. He treats them all impartially, and comes and goes as he wills. As another dog knows a bone, so Owney does a mail-sack, and he will leap aboard the trains with them in the most unexpected places, to be always received with delight. Duly recorded in the history of the United States Post-office, he has its great army of employees, from the highest to the lowest, for his firm friends.

## THE CHILDREN'S HOUR.

### BY EMMA J. GRAY.

"Isn't it blind-man's holiday?" was John's question, as, "betwixt the dark and the daylight," he put his head in his mother's lap, stretching the rest of his long body meanwhile on the tiger-skin rug which lay at her feet.

"Yes;" and immediately Mrs. Colfax laid aside her mending-basket, touching the top pair of socks as she did so, and then followed the words: "I've been busy with those for the last hour. Do you know you are more destructive on socks than your father and three brothers put together?"

"Am I, mother?" and the boy took one of her hands between his own, while she at once ran the fingers of her other hand through his short thick hair, remarking, "that she didn't know where it got its curly tendency from, as none of her family could lay any claim to curls, nor the Colfaxes either."

[Pg 308]

But John had not come to discuss his kinky locks, nor to talk about his school affairs; on the contrary, he had something peculiarly strange to tell to-night. In fact, nothing less than that his great chum, Hiram Scott, was to have an "out-and-out boss party to celebrate his sixteenth birthday."

"That means, my son would like a party on his sixteenth birthday."

"That's about the size of it, mother."

"All right. You may have one."

"Hurrah!" and John sat upright, while he eagerly explained, "But, mother, Hiram's going to have a regular gilt-edged affair. One of the kind you read about."

"And you wouldn't wish to be outdone by him; is that it?"

"Well—no, I wouldn't."

"Is his birthday before yours?"

"Yes; ten days."

"Has Hiram told you any particular plans about his party?"

"Why, all there are to tell, I suppose. They are to have the biggest orchestra—harp, horn, and all that sort of thing." Then, shaking his head impressively: "And the supper will cost one hundred dollars—maybe two hundred. And Hiram is to have a new pair of black silk socks and patent-leather pumps, and an elegant new dinner jacket, for the occasion; he's to be brand-new all over, indeed, for, with a real whipper-snapper air, he informed me he was to have awfully swell black trousers and waistcoat, and a new black satin tie. The whole thing is to be mighty fine, I can tell you."

"Well, it's quite impossible for you to give as costly a party as Hiram's, for your father is a poor man in comparison to his, my son."

"I know it," and John once more threw himself forward and laid his head on his mother's lap.

"So we must think of something fantastic and fanciful," Mrs. Colfax resumed, "and hope that the unusualness of your party will compensate for the expensive supper and orchestra of Hiram's."

"What would you give, mother? For you know right off I could never plan a new party any more than if I was a—"

"A what, my son?"

"A—barber's pole—or a wax figure, or any other know-nothing thing."

"You're interested in Indians, aren't you?"

"Indians!" and jumping to his feet John trod forcibly across the floor, as if he was on his way to encounter a whole tribe of them. Then he slowly stated: "I should remark that I am. But what have Indians to do with my party?"

"You'll see," and Mrs. Colfax, leaning back in her chair, inquired: "How would you like to play that you are Hiawatha just for a night? In fact, the invitations might read:

"Hiawatha

"Requests the pleasure of

"Miss B—— B——'s

"company on Monday evening,

"March nineteenth, at eight o'clock.

"Dancing, Games. Address."

"Oh, go on, mother," were John's impatient words, as Mrs. Colfax hesitated a second; "I can hardly wait," and giving a low whistle, he shouted: "Excellent, fine, clever! Hiram is welcome to his new toggery for aught I care; I'll appear in Indian array—eagle feathers, bead necklaces, bracelets, moccasins, and all. What a jolly scheme!" and John stood as erect as though his eagle plumes were already waving above his head.

"And perhaps, since Hiram is your most intimate friend, he would take the character of Chibiabos, for

"Very dear to Hiawatha
Was the gentle Chibiabos.

"And then another of your friends should be the very strong man Kwasind, and then, of course, there must be Laughing Water, Minnehaha, and the old arrow-maker, her father."

"Would it be a Hiawatha party or an Indian party?"

"Neither, John, because all of Longfellow's people should come. The only reason I have been talking about Hiawatha was because we might as well fix your character at once."

"Oh, that's the how of things. Are you sure there would be enough characters to go around?"

"Without a doubt, John;" and then, with an affectionate gesture on her big boy, Mrs. Colfax added, "I guess somebody that I know would better read Longfellow's poems over again."

"I am sort o' rusty. I suppose, too, that would be the only way to advise a fellow as to his get-up."

"It would be the best way; for example, in the Tales of the Wayside Inn we read

"But first the Landlord will I trace;
Grave in his aspect and attire;

"and

"A youth was there of quiet ways,
A student of old books and days;

"and a

"Theologian from the school
Of Cambridge on the Charles was there.

"And a Poet, and a Spanish Jew, a young Sicilian, and a Musician, all are minutely described."

"Will Minnehaha be the only girl, mother?"

"Why, what a nonsensical question! Perhaps somebody would personate Margaret, the Blind Girl of Castèl-Cuillè, only it would be pleasanter to personate her before

"The dread disease that none can stay,
The pestilence that walks by night,
Took the young bride's sight away.

"And surely some mischievous girl would delight to make believe she was

"A woman bent and gray with years,

"and be the village seer. And I've just had an idea, John, that your father can be the Master who builds the ship. You remember the way the poem commences,

"Build me straight, O worthy Master.

"And I'll dress like a young girl and be the promised bride

"Standing before
Her father's door."

"Oh, capital! What fun!" and John excitedly once more jumped to his feet, adding, "What a jolly mother I have!"

"And, of course," Mrs. Colfax continued, "there will be a Priscilla and an Evangeline. Indeed, you need not trouble about there not being enough characters to go around."

"Well, granted that they all come, mother, what then?"

"Then we will give a tableau vivant, called The Children's[Pg 309] Hour. Our house is just the place for it."

"In what way? I don't understand."

"The library can be seen from any part of the parlors. And grandpa, who bears such a close resemblance to Longfellow, can act his character. The library must be dimly lighted, because

"The night is beginning to lower,

"and the parlors will have to be almost dark while the tableau is shown, otherwise we cannot see into the library. There grandpa will sit in his favorite high chair, in the attitude of listening to the patter of little feet above him. Some unseen person, perhaps I, will read the poem which describes the scene, and after a while three young girls,

"Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair,

"will be heard descending our long stairs, and they will make a rush from the stairway through the hall and climb over the arms and back of his chair. Trust me, John, the tableau will be very pretty. I know exactly how to arrange it, and if I did not, there is a fine illustration in the edition that your father gave me last Christmas. Besides, grandpa will enjoy it so much. Indeed, it was only the other day that he told me that his party days were over."

"I'm so glad you thought of putting grandpa in, mother. But after the tableau?"

"After the tableau it will be a Children's Hour in very truth—games, songs, dances, and supper. During the dance immediately preceding the supper, paper hats will be given as favors, which everybody will don, excepting when, like yourself, their eagle plumes would interfere. In that case they can suspend them from the arm. The girls will wear broad-brimmed hats, and the boys, turbans; and the boy must invite the girl who has the same colored hat as himself to go to supper."

"But where are all these hats to come from? I guess you're the one that's forgetting that papa isn't rich."

And Mrs. Colfax, throwing back her head, laughed merrily. When she recovered herself she exclaimed: "Why, John, I'll make the hats. It will only be a little bit of fun for me, and all the paper put together wouldn't cost a dollar."

"I know the fellows will just think you're a beaut—y." For it was very difficult for John not to use slang.

But Mrs. Colfax talked on regardless of her son's interruptions, and therefore it was that John learned that both the Longfellow and birthday schemes should unite in the supper-room.

"For example, The Children's Hour would appear in large letters over the mantel-piece. The letters could be cut out of card-board and covered with asparagus, which should be tacked on with green silk. Then candy could be twisted to represent a coil of rope, and a candy man to represent the Skipper. Another candy man would be called the Village Blacksmith, and a chocolate man the Black Knight, and so on. Tiny papers, similar in size to motto papers, should be glued at one end to these figures, thus introducing them. The large cakes should be iced around with flowers, for Longfellow wrote, 'Everywhere about us are they glowing,' and the ice-cream models should be as appropriate as the caterer could arrange. A ship would be a fine example; so would a bell, the Curfew Bell; an arrow, The Arrow and the Song; and a clock, The Old Clock on the Stairs.

"And the birthday feature, John, should be indicated by the flower for your month; you were born in March, therefore your birthday flower is violet. Violet-colored satin ribbon might be used to decorate the table, and potted palms, etc., could stand in violet crépon paper pots, but, nevertheless, real violets must show themselves as freely as we can afford them." And Mrs. Colfax smoothed back the hair from her son's forehead.

"I never knew that before."

"Never knew what?"

"That everybody had a birthday flower. What are the flowers for the other months?"

"April, daisies; May, hawthorn; June, roses; August, poppies; September, convolvulus; October, hops; November, chrysanthemums; December, holly; January, snow-drops; February, primroses."

"I like my flower best, don't you."

"Yes, I think I do. But I must talk more about the party. At the supper table each one in turn must tell his or her character."

"Cannot people guess before?"

"They can guess all they like, John, if they will whisper. Part of the amusement at such a party is to discover your friends."

"What about games, mother?"

"Try the Cent Hunt. Say that a cent is wrapped in violet tissue-paper, and is within sight. The discoverer quietly tells you, and if he is correct, present him with a boutonnière of violets. Afterwards give a cent, pencil, and paper to everybody, and state five minutes are allowed to write what each side of the cent will tell. This game is called A Penny for your Thoughts.

"Find on one side: A beverage—T. A messenger—one c(s)ent. A piece of armor—shield. A symbol of victory—wreath. A weapon—arrow. A mode of punishment—stripes. A gallant—bow. A sheet of water—C.

"Find on the other side: A portion of a hill—brow. A place of worship—temple. An animal—hare. Youth and old age—18-96. One way of expressing marriage—U. S. A cultivated flower—tulip. An emblem of royalty—crown. Fruit—date.

"And afterwards play Stage-Coach, but, John, you know that game."

"Here comes father; shall we tell him?"

"Wait until to-morrow."

[Pg 310]

## THE MIDDLETON BOWL.

### BY ELLEN DOUGLAS DELAND.

### CHAPTER III.

"What did you tell them anything for? I knew you would. A girl can't keep anything dark."

"I didn't tell. They found it out themselves."

"How could they? They would never have known it was broken if you hadn't told, and they would never have known about the currant-bushes."

"They found a little bit of the china that I never saw at all, and I had to tell about the currant-bushes, because Aunt Tom said that I had something under my apron, and saw us go to the currant-bushes. They asked me, and I had to answer. They think I did it. They don't believe me when I say I didn't. It isn't a bit nice not to be believed."

"Then you didn't say anything about—about anybody else?"

"Of course not!"

Theodora and Arthur were again in the garden. It was afternoon now of the day upon which the bowl was broken, and Theodora, after spending several hours in retirement, had been allowed to come out to get the air.

After their return to the house her aunts had tried in vain to extract something from her in regard to the accident. "I did not break the bowl," was all that she could be induced to say. Each aunt tried in turn to vary this reply, but with no success.

Finally, at the end of three-quarters of an hour, Miss Middleton said:

"I think, sisters, that the best plan will be to send Theodora to her own room to think over the wicked falsehood which I am afraid she is telling. You will remember that when we were young our parents were of the opinion that solitary confinement was the wisest mode of punishment."

"They occasionally used a slipper," remarked Miss Joanna.

"But I scarcely like to use a slipper with Theodore's child."

"No! no!" cried Miss Dorcas, Miss Melissa, and Miss Thomasine, with one voice.

"So, Theodora, you may go to your room," continued Miss Middleton. "I hope that when you come out you will be ready to confess."

Theodora stood for a moment looking from one to the other of the five faces.

"I sha'n't do any such thing," she said. "I can't confess what I didn't do. If my mother were here she would believe me. If you were to keep me shut up in the room for weeks and weeks, when I came out I should say the same thing. Please excuse me for being disrespectful, but I think, except Aunt Tom, you are very disagreeable aunts, especially Aunt Joanna. I think I would rather live with people that were no relation to me."

So saying, she walked from their presence and went to her own room, and again shut and bolted the door. At dinner-time a tray containing several slices of dry bread and a glass of water was placed outside, and Mary Ann's voice told her that her dinner was waiting. For some time Teddy refused to open, but finally her hunger overcame her pride, and she took the tray into her room, and just as she finished Miss Thomasine came to the door and tapped gently.

"Teddy, my dear," she said, in a low voice, at the key-hole, "let me in—your aunt Tom."

And Teddy again opened the door.

"Oh, my dear, how you have been crying!" said gentle little Miss Thomasine. "I am so grieved about it all. Teddy, if you will only tell us the truth, even now we will forgive you. Tell me quietly how it happened."

"Aunt Tom, I can't make up a story. I didn't break the bowl. Why don't you believe me? There are other people in the world besides me! Why don't you think that some one else did it? Why am I the only person that could have broken it?"

"My dear, you forget that the evidence against you is very strong. When I came down stairs to go with you to the garden you came out of the parlor with the pieces of china in your hand, hidden under your apron. Why did you take the trouble to hide them, or to touch them at all, if you were not the one who broke the bowl?"

Theodora was silent for a few minutes. She stood gazing at her aunt, looking straight from her fearless brown eyes into Miss Thomasine's gentle blue ones.

"That is true," she said at last. "It does seem queer. But, for all that, I didn't break the bowl, Aunt Tom."

"Then can you not tell me who did?"

"No, I can't tell you who did," she said. "But do you believe me now, Aunt Tom?"

"Yes, my dear, I do."

And then Theodora burst into tears, and hid her face in her aunt's lap.

"IT WAS SO TERRIBLE TO FEEL THAT NO ONE BELIEVED ME," SHE SOBBED.

"Oh, I am so glad!" she sobbed. "It was so terrible to feel that no one believed me in this whole house."

After a while Miss Thomasine returned to her sisters, and told them of her change of opinion. Needless to say no one agreed with her, and it required some determination on her part to remain firm in her conviction. It was not so easy to believe her niece guiltless when she was confronted by four somewhat obstinate ladies, as it had been when she was looking into Theodora's fearlessly truthful eyes.

But Miss Thomasine did not falter, and she finally succeeded in obtaining her sisters' consent to the proposition that their niece should be released from solitary confinement, and allowed to go out into the fresh air.

"For she is not accustomed to it, and I am afraid it will make her ill," urged Miss Thomasine, "and then what would Theodore and sister Gertrude say?"

At hearing which the others relented.

Theodora, upon being liberated, went at once to the garden, and here she found Arthur Hoyt awaiting her. He was leaning over the wall, looking sullenly toward Teddy as she approached.

"I thought you were never coming," he said. "What made you so long?"

"I've been shut up," returned Teddy. "They won't believe I didn't do it—except Aunt Tom. She believes me, but no one else will."

"What did you tell them?"

"That I didn't do it."

"Nothing else?"

"Of course not."

And then ensued the conversation with which this chapter opens.

Arthur Hoyt was eleven years old. He was the fifth member of this large family, Paul, Charlie, Clement, and Raymond being older than he. Paul was nearly eighteen, and it had been an act of great condescension on his part to join in the funeral festivities of the morning; but, in spite of the fact that he was to enter Harvard this fall, he secretly loved an old-fashioned romp with his four brethren, though he would not have confessed it for the world.

The boys were all lions of health and strength, with the exception of Arthur. He had always been delicate, and in consequence had been greatly indulged by his parents. His brothers were in the habit of treating him with more consideration than they showed to one another, looking upon him perhaps as they would have looked upon a sister. When Teddy came to Alden and they first made her acquaintance, they fancied that "all she would be good for," as they expressed it, would be to play quiet games with Arthur, but they soon found out their mistake.

Teddy was as much of a "jolly good fellow" as her name implied. She could run, she could row, she could play ball with the best of them, and the boys had not recovered even yet from their astonishment at this state of affairs. The Misses Middletons' niece as much of a fellow as any of them! And they accordingly received her into their midst on terms of absolute equality.

"I'm glad you didn't say anything about any one else," said Arthur, when he had heard Teddy's assurance that she[Pg 311] had told nothing. He looked about apprehensively, as if he feared some one might be hidden in the same currant-bushes which had sheltered the broken bowl. "I'll do something nice for you, Teddy. Would you like to ride my wheel?"

"Arthur! Do you really mean it?"

"Of course I do," said he, magnanimously. "I've never let you before, because I was afraid you'd bang it over the first thing and smash it; but I guess you'll be careful."

It was the dearest wish of Theodora's heart to learn to ride. She had intended to ask her aunts' permission that very day; in fact, she had gone back to the house with Miss Thomasine for that especial purpose; and then had come the fatal discovery about the bowl, and everything else had been forgotten.

This was a fine opportunity to try it, for Arthur was not always in such an amiable mood. Perhaps he never again would offer to lend her his wheel and to teach her. The other boys owned bicycles, to be sure, but it was always hard to find them at liberty. There was usually something of importance to be done, and Theodora had noticed that neither of them seemed anxious to lend his wheel to a beginner. Charlie had offered, though, that morning, and she had lost the rare chance by going into the house to ask permission. She concluded not to let another opportunity slip; so, after giving the matter brief consideration, she joyfully accepted Arthur's overture, with or without her aunts' approval.

"Come over the wall, then," said he. "The best place for you to learn is on our drive. I'll try and find one of the other fellows to help teach you; for of course you'll go tumbling all over everywhere, and we might as well try to save the wheel."

Teddy wondered if no effort was to be made to save her as well as the wheel; but she said nothing, and quickly climbed the wall.

The Misses Middleton meanwhile were discussing the situation.

"I know the child is speaking the truth," said Miss Thomasine, again and again. "Some one else is responsible for the accident. Now let us consider who it can have been."

"Not one of the servants, I am sure," said Miss Middleton. "They have lived with us too long for us not to know that they would confess if they were guilty; and who else has been in the house to-day?"

Miss Melissa suddenly started forward.

"Sister Adaline, you forget! Some one—there have been others! Do you not remember?"

"Others? What others?"

"Surely you remember!"

"Melissa, do be more explicit, I beg of you!" cried Miss Joanna. "It is so easy to say what you mean, if you would only try it. Who else has been in the house?"

"Dear Joanna, you are so abrupt! Dorcas, you remember?"

But Miss Dorcas had discovered a mistake in her knitting, and was busy counting.

"Four, five, six, seven," she said aloud, to show them that she could not speak.

"I am astonished that you have the heart to knit, when the Middleton bowl is broken, Dorcas!" exclaimed Miss Joanna. "Melissa, kindly tell us what you mean."

But her sister's manner was apt to frighten the faltering Melissa, and she was now looking for her salts.

"I think I know whom Melissa means," said Miss Thomasine, suddenly. "Two or three of the Hoyt boys accompanied Theodora when she came with the cat."

Miss Melissa nodded. There was not a sound for a moment, the new idea presented by this recollection was so astounding.

"Do you think—" began Miss Joanna, and then stopped, for once unable to finish her speech.

"It might be," whispered Miss Middleton.

"It seems really—but then—perhaps—" murmured Miss Melissa.

"Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. I should not be surprised," said Miss Dorcas, laying down her needles at last.

"I am sure that it was not Theodora," repeated Miss Thomasine, more earnestly than ever.

"There were several boys in the house," continued Miss Joanna, "and I should not be at all surprised. Adaline, suppose we order the carriage at once and drive to Mrs. Hoyt's. What do you think of it?"

"Quite right, Joanna. You and I will go, and Thomasine."

And they at once made ready for the call.

Although it was but a short distance to their neighbor's house, it did not occur to the ladies to walk. They took a certain amount of exercise on their own place every morning and afternoon, but a call would have been shorn of half of its formality did they not go in their carriage, and the Misses Middleton were nothing if not formal.

They had left their own domain, and were being driven slowly along the bit of road which lay between their gates and those of their neighbor, when, with a rapid whiz, a bicycle flew past them, followed by another and another.

"It is a custom which is very alarming," remarked Miss Middleton.

"There seemed to be a girl on one of them," said Miss Joanna. "So very unladylike!"

Miss Thomasine said nothing, but she leaned out of the carriage and looked after the rapidly receding figures. She was quite certain that she recognized that short scarlet skirt and that flying brown hair, but she dared not name her fears.

Presently the carriage drew up at Mrs. Hoyt's front steps. There were no boys to be seen but Arthur, who disconsolately leaned over the piazza railing. Teddy had ridden away on his wheel, accompanied by two of his brothers, and there was nothing for him to do but to await their return. When he saw the approach of the Misses Middleton he turned and fled.

"I wonder where Theodora is?" remarked Miss Middleton. "I hoped to find her with Arthur—such a nice, quiet little boy. Where can she be?"

And still Miss Thomasine held her peace.

Mrs. Hoyt was at home, and the ladies were ushered into the parlor.

"Sister, you must be the one to speak," said Miss Joanna to Miss Middleton, "and I will help you when it is necessary." And neither of her hearers doubted that she would.

It was difficult to open the subject; for Mrs. Hoyt, filled with trepidation at being caught unawares by her stately neighbors, talked with nervous haste. The parlor was in sad confusion, having lately been the scene of a bear-fight, carried on by several of her boys. She herself had not yet dressed for the afternoon, and she was wondering if the Misses Middleton would discover the fact. Fortunately her gingham gown was well made and clean; still, it was a gingham, and it was afternoon, and Mrs. Hoyt had lived long enough in Alden to know Alden ideas.

But the Misses Middleton did not notice. They were trying to find a means of stemming the tide of Mrs. Hoyt's conversation.

"We have come on a matter of importance," said Miss Middleton at last. "I think, Joanna, we may call it important?" looking at her sister.

"Very important," said she, with emphasis.

"Very important," echoed Miss Thomasine, more mildly, plucking nervously at the folds of her camel's-hair shawl.

"Indeed!" said Mrs. Hoyt. "Is there anything I can do for you? You seem troubled about something. I hope nothing has happened?"

There was a slight noise at the back of the room at this juncture, and Miss Middleton, who was about to speak, stopped abruptly.

"It is only Arthur, probably," said his mother. "Arthur dear, come speak to the Miss Middletons."

But no Arthur was forth-coming, so Miss Middleton began again.

"We have met with a great loss. You have heard of—in fact, I know you have seen—the Middleton bowl."

"I should think so! My dear Miss Middleton, you don't mean to say that anything has happened to that? Oh, how shocking! Is it broken, or has it been stolen?"

[Pg 312]

"It is broken. It would almost have been better had it been stolen. Do you not agree with me, Joanna?"

"I do," said Miss Joanna. Miss Thomasine did not speak.

"For there is a great mystery connected with it," continued the speaker. "We cannot discover who broke it."

"Could it have been one of the servants?" asked Mrs. Hoyt, eagerly. "Oh, that beautiful bowl! so valuable! so exquisite! It must have been one of the servants."

"It was not," snapped Miss Joanna. "They have lived with us from fifteen to thirty years, and they were all in another part of the house when it happened. It was some one else."

"We thought at first that it must have been our niece, Theodora," continued Miss Middleton. "There were certain circumstances which led us to suspect her very strongly; but she declares that she did not do it, and our sister Thomasine is inclined to believe her."

"I am quite sure that Theodora did not break the bowl," said Miss Thomasine, quietly but firmly.

"Then who could have done it?" asked Mrs. Hoyt.

There was a profound silence in the room, while the three sisters looked at one another. Twice Miss Middleton essayed to speak, but her voice failed her, and she coughed instead. Miss Thomasine pulled off her gloves, quite unconscious that she was committing such a breach of etiquette. Miss Joanna at length recovered her usual courage.

"We think, Mrs. Hoyt," said she, clearly, and with emphasis, nodding her head in time to her words, and causing her spectacles to flash ominously—"we think that it may have been one of your sons."

Mrs. Hoyt was speechless, and she grew very pale.

"What makes you think so?" she asked at length. Even Miss Joanna quailed before the light that was in her eyes.

"Because," she faltered—"because some of them were in our house this morning."

"Miss Middleton, I think I can safely say that if one of my boys were responsible for such a misfortune, he would be enough of a gentleman to acknowledge it and to apologize. However, I will question them in your presence—that is, if they can be found. Ah, there they come now, up the drive, and Teddy is with them. They have been teaching her to ride the bicycle."

She left the room as she spoke. The Misses Middleton looked at one another.

"Our niece on a bicycle!" murmured Miss Middleton.

"I believe it was she whom we met," exclaimed Miss Joanna. "I believe also that she, and she alone, broke the bowl. This only goes to prove it."

"How does it prove it, Joanna?" asked Miss Thomasine; but Miss Joanna merely glared at her through the gleaming spectacles.

Clement and Raymond came quickly into the house in response to their mother's call, followed closely by Theodora, who was fully prepared to find her aunts in the parlor, for she had seen the waiting carriage. The boys took off their caps, and politely shook hands with each of the ladies. Their manners were good, as even their natural enemies, the Misses Middleton, had always been forced to admit.

"Which of you were at Miss Middleton's house to-day?" asked Mrs. Hoyt.

"Clem, and I, and Arthur," said Raymond.

"Where is Arthur now?"

"He's round here somewhere. We left him here when we went off with Ted. She was on his wheel; and, mother, she rides as well as a fellow. She went right straight off instanter."

The three Misses Middleton groaned audibly, while their niece flushed with pleasure at this hearty praise. Mrs. Hoyt did not pause, however.

"I am afraid Arthur is hiding somewhere. I am quite sure he is in the room. Please look for him, as he has not the civility to come when his mother calls him."

Raymond and Clem made a dash for the back of the room, where they at once discovered the missing Arthur, and dragged him from his retreat. He came forward, banging his head and looking the picture of misery. His mother glanced at him reproachfully, upon seeing which Arthur looked more miserable still.

#### [to be continued.]

[Pg 313]

## A LOYAL TRAITOR.

#### A STORY OF THE WAR OF 1812 BETWEEN AMERICA AND ENGLAND.

### BY JAMES BARNES.

### CHAPTER XIV.

### A BEGGAR A-HORSEBACK.

I knew, however, that I was in Gloucestershire; and from a sign-post, pointing the way I came the night gone, I learned that I had passed the towns of Thornbery and Slimbridge. I was cogitating over how to get a bit to eat when something happened that put even hunger out of my head—I heard the tooting of a horn! Turning about, I saw the coach coming up a little hill, swinging along at a good pace, with the leaders in a gallop.

The boldest course was the best, so I leaned against a stone post that had cut in it "Eight miles to Hardwick," and waited for the mail to come up. The driver, a ruddy-faced individual in a multitude of cloaks and a wide beaver, caught my intention.

"Are ye off to Gloucester, lad?" he cried, drawing up.

"Ay," I answered. "Hold up there, and I'll take a passage."

There were but three beside the guard on top, and I clambered over the wheel up to the front seat before the coach had lost its headway. I feared most dreadfully that the driver would begin to question me at once, but, thank the powers, he did not. Keeping up a continuous clicking sound against his teeth, and gracefully flourishing the long-lashed whip, and catching the leaders now and again with the end of it most cleverly, he drove ahead without speaking.

Now all the time I was wondering how I was going to pay the fare, when the red-faced man made this matter smooth sailing.

"'E better get off before we get into the town, laad," he said, "then we won't ask noo fare o' ye."

"Thanks, very much," I said.

"Not a bit, not a bit," he returned. "A soldier on a spree wants all 'e can spend, eh?"

I nodded, and for an hour we drove on in silence. For a long time there had been visible a great square tower rising above the stretches of vineyards, corn-lands, and gardens. The country was interspersed with rich pastures in which fat, broad-backed sheep were grazing. How I drank in all the sights and sounds, craning my neck and straining my eyes and ears! Beautiful residences of the aristocracy, with wide-spreading parks, were frequent on each side of the highway, and soon scattered houses overgrowing with vines proclaimed that we were on the outskirts of the town. That the tower that was in sight belonged to some great church was very plain, but I feared to ask about it. The driver pulled up his horses, and understanding him to mean that my ride was over, I descended, after an expression of my gratitude.

The coach was barely out of sight when I saw ahead of me the swinging sign-board of an inn. My desire to feed was so strong that I fished out the gold piece from my catch-all, and determined to purchase a breakfast if it took the last penny.

Walking up to the entrance to the "Moon and Starfish," I went inside the tap-room, and found that the people of the inn were up and stirring. Calling for the landlord, I seated myself at a table by the window, and a flood of self-conceit came over me so that I almost gibbered with delight.

In a few minutes a bowl of coffee was at my elbow, a thick fat chop decked in greens was putting strength into my blood and spirits as it disappeared, my jaws worked to a little tune of my own composing, and I cared little for the future—the present was good and given to enjoy! But soon I was to be on a very different tack, for with a clatter and clanking I recognized the approach of the people I most dreaded to meet—the men who fight his Majesty's wars and eat his victuals. Five soldiers entered from outside. They were petty officers, with stripes on their arms, bright red coats with puffs at their shoulders, strings of bright buttons, pipe-clayed cross-belts, and black gaiters.

They may have been handsome to look at, but to me they were five living horrors. With a chill feeling coming over[Pg 314] my chest and shoulders, I pretended closer attention to my meal. I knew they were looking at me, but they entered the next compartment and called for ale and spirits. When the landlord came I overheard the conversation.

"I don't know who the young man is," said the host of the inn, as if in reply to a question. "He came off the coach, I take it."

"He's an officer," observed another.

"You're wrong," said a third. "Where are his shoulder-knots?"

"I observed him close," put in the second speaker, "and, ecod! it strikes me he is part officer and part private. It's the uniform of the Somersetshire Foot-guard. I know it."

I was almost choking in my efforts to bolt a great bit of mutton, but from the tail of my eye I saw that two heads were thrust about the corner, and they were piping me off. So I turned my back and looked out of the window. There came a laugh in a minute, and some whispering in which I caught the words "curling-tongs and the barber," probably in allusion to my great need of both.

Now I am honestly very sorry that I never paid the landlord for that good meal of his, but I acted on an impulse that more than like saved me from total discomforture. I was taken aback fore and aft, completely staggered with the idea that their curiosity would pass bounds, and they would begin to sift me. The window was wide open, and the sward on the outside came to within two feet of the sill. Making no noise, I crawled out of it headforemost, and walking quickly across the court-yard, I dodged behind a row of stables, and crept along beneath a line of hedge; and this time I did not take the big hat with me, but left it mounting guard over the remains of my meal.

Now I really should like to have heard what the redcoats said, and I fear that the landlord could not have been complimentary.

The hedge that I was following ran up to a high wall, on the other side of which was evidently one of the parks of a nobleman or an aristocrat. By dint of scratching and hauling and sheer strength, I struggled over the top and came down on a level stretch of lawn, dotted about with handsome beech-trees, and farther on edged by a noble line of oaks. No one was in sight, and driven by a nameless dread, I started running. A great pheasant scurried across my path and tore up into the air with a whir, making me shy to one side, like a runaway horse. I kept up my speed but a few hundred yards, however, when the idea came to me that this would never do at all. So I threw myself down at the foot of a tree and tried to compose my ideas.

Off to the right, beyond a low hedge covered with wall-flowers, was a field of springing corn (wheat we call it in our country), and lording it over this green domain, with its arms outstretched, was a ragged scarecrow. I think my next move was something that proves me far from imbecile. Leaping the hedge, I tore off my bright red coat and white breeches (the cloak, I had forgotten to say, I had left at the hedge early in the morning), and then, with mighty little on, I crawled, Indian fashion, towards the silent guardian of the fields.

Oh, they were very ragged indeed were his majesty's habiliments, but there were enough of them to cover me, even if I did show bare at the knees and elbows, and hurriedly I hung them on, and taking the flapping hat from off the straw-stuffed head, I was the scarecrow come to life! I had hidden the uniform under some handfuls of leaves and grass; and now to get out of the park and reach the road, where, by my appearance, I rightfully belonged.

The wall on the inside was so high and so well built that I could not reach the top, but as I went along I came to a little gate that unlocked by thrusting back a bolt. I opened it, and found myself in the kitchen-garden of a neat white cottage. Disdaining to make reply to the hail of a buxom young woman who thrust her head out of the window, and who inquired my business in a peremptory tone, I hobbled out into the road.

I did not stop at the inn this time, but slid past it on the opposite side, and five minutes' walk brought me nearer to the heart of the town. Passing a number of people, who gave me a wide berth, and keeping straight ahead, I came to a square, or better, the meeting-place of four thoroughfares crossing at right angles.

Not far away rose the great square tower that I had noticed early in the morning. It was so high and so massive that I walked toward it to obtain a better view, and stopped in astonishment before one of the greatest cathedrals in England.

There was a service of some kind going on, and the sound of a great organ wafted out on the air. I stood there listening for some moments, leaning against the iron railing. As the door was open, I was tempted to go in and pass the gates, but here I halted in fear. A slight tall man, with his white hair trimmed in a bygone fashion, and a black coat buttoned up to his white stock, was walking up a side path; he raised his eyes from the ground, and bending forward, stood there in an expectant attitude looking at me. Whatever he took me for I do not know.

"Repent, son, and return," he said, in a soothing tone. I had feared that he was going to upbraid me for my presence, but his next movement deprived me of that idea entirely. "Here, take this," he said; "and God bless you and direct you."

As he spoke he extended his hand, with a piece of silver in it, toward me. A sense of pride in that, so far in my life, I had asked alms of no one almost tempted me to refuse it, but fearing that he might put me to questions, I took it, mumbled some thanks, and hurried out into the sunshine.

I am sure that if he had been an American I should never have escaped without telling a story of some sort, but the English are of a less curious temper than we are, and if they interfere in other people's business on the outside world, they have a talent for minding their own at home, and to this I testify readily.

My clothes were so disreputable that I determined to spend part of the shilling in procuring the means of mending them. So I entered a little shop down the street, and purchased thread and needles. With these in my pocket, I set out immediately looking for a place to hide whilst at work.

Taking the wide road that led to the north, I followed it, and passing by a common on which some lads were playing cricket, I came to an inn, much larger than the one I had stopped at in the morning, surrounded by a court-yard with sheds and stables. A number of large carts and vans were resting here, and crawling over the tail-board of one that had a great canvas top, I took off my clothes and began my tailoring.

When it was finished I was in less danger of coming to pieces, and despite what I had eaten, my stomach told me it was past the midday-meal hour.

Now where I was to go I did not have the least idea, and my heart went down like a lead.

But, en avant! There was no sense in tarrying. As I went to go out of the court-yard to take up my aimless walking, a tall chaise in which were two finely dressed gentlemen drove in at the entrance. I had to jump from under the horse's feet. Some of the inn servants, who had paid no attention to me, ran out from the stables at the sound of the wheels, and in the doorway of the house appeared a slender man, with powdered hair, who greeted the other two with a graceful salutation. There was a trace of courtliness in it that was handsome, but my heart gave a bound as I turned to watch them curiously. They were speaking French. Not the French that I had heard lately in the prison, but the French that my mother had taught me and that my uncle spoke.

"Welcome, Monsieur de Brissac!" exclaimed the tall man in the doorway, "and welcome, Monsieur le Marquis."

"De Brissac!—Monsieur le Marquis!" How natural this name and the title seemed to me; and then it all came back—"Gabriel Montclair de Brissac, Marquis de Neuville, friend of my grandfather, le Marquis de Brienne." I remembered that my uncle had made me learn this in the long list of stupid names. There were two sons, Georges Lucien and Guy Léon de Brissac. The latter and his father had both lost their heads on the guillotine on the[Pg 315] same day that my grandfather had lost his. Somehow the idea that there might be some help come to me from a man who bore the name of de Brissac crossed my brain, and I turned back into the court-yard.

The servants had led away the horse, and seated at a window were the three fine-looking gentlemen. I watched them for a few minutes, not knowing what to do. I could not hear the sound of their voices, although the window was open, so I came nearer. The shortest of the three, who had been addressed as "Monsieur le Marquis," was talking, and gesticulating with his jewelled hand.

"Yes, yes. We will see the lilies again, my friends," he said in French. "Give this usurper time enough and the rope, and he will hang himself—a trite but true saying, my friends."

All at once one of them looked out of the window and saw me standing close to. I felt as if I had to do something to account for my presence, and an idea suggested to me by my meeting a singing beggar-woman on the streets in the morning was put into immediate practice; why, except for the connection of thought, I should have chosen the song I did I know not, but it was a fortunate circumstance. I struck out into a little chansonnette, something in the nature of a serenade, that I had heard my uncle trill in his high-pitched voice—a song that may have been a favorite with the gallants of King Louis's court.

I did not look in at the window as I sang, but cast my eyes upward in apparent oblivion to my surroundings. As I began the third stanza (something about roses and hearts, I remember) I was interrupted by approaching foot-steps.

A COMMANDING VOICE EXCLAIMED FROM THE WINDOW, "BRING THAT LAD IN HERE, SOME ONE."

My singing had attracted the attention of several people in the court-yard, and a hostler was hurrying up with the evident intention of sending me to the rightabout. But if that was what he meant to do, he had to give it over, for a commanding voice in English, without the trace of an accent, exclaimed from the window,

"Bring that lad in here, some one."

Before I knew it, I was following one of the servants through a passageway, and was ushered into the presence of the three men seated at the table.

"Where could he have learned that song?" one of them was saying. The short man was humming the air.

"Who are you and what is your name?" questioned the large gentleman with the powdered hair, who evidently was in authority, speaking in French.

"Jean Amédée de Brienne," I said, taking the name by which I had been known for the past few months, only giving it, of course, a pronunciation somewhat different.

"De Brienne!" exclaimed the youngest gentleman, starting. "Where do you come from?"

"From America, monsieur; but just now from the prison at Stapleton, whence I have escaped by a good chance."

I noticed that they were looking at one another in incredulity, so I spoke on, led by I know not what:

"Have I not the honor of addressing Monsieur George Lucien de Brissac, son of the Marquis de Neuville?"

"I am the Marquis de Neuville," exclaimed the youngest, starting to his feet. "My father is dead."

"And my grandfather perished on the scaffold with him and with your brother Guy," I said, calmly.

The effect of this speech was wonderful. The other two men sprang up, and the taller shut the window suddenly and drew the curtain.

Monsieur de Brissac was for hurrying toward me with both hands outstretched, when he was restrained.

"Hold! Hold!" said the eldest. "Let us ask more questions. What was your grandfather's name, my young friend?"

I gave it, and the whole of my family tree, so far as I could remember it, on my mother's side. Then in a few words I told of my sailing on a privateer, my capture and imprisonment. Before I had finished Monsieur de Brissac had come close to me.

"Embrassez-moi!" he said, and despite my rags he threw his arms around my neck.

In turn the other two did likewise, and the elder man kissed me on the forehead, after the manner of my uncle. Tears were in his eyes, and relieved from the great strain under which I had been laboring, I broke down altogether, and sinking into a chair, I wept, rocking myself to and fro. "Oh, God be thanked!" I cried over and over.

As soon as I recovered myself I saw that they had placed before me wine and meat, and were refraining from asking further questions until I should have refreshed myself. But the words which were whispered in my ear seemed to shut all fear behind me. "Courage; you are with friends. We will not desert you," told me to trust.

I looked up from my plate (truly I had been well fed for a vagabond this day), and found my new friends in consultation. I caught the word "clothes," and looking down at myself, I reddened. I was mad to tear the horrid rags from me. Monsieur de Brissac, as I shall call him, as it was he that afterwards became my patron, saw that I had finished the meal, and giving me a smile and a bow, came nearer. He was a very handsome man, of about seven-and-thirty, with a fine figure, and a well-turned leg that showed to the best advantage in his black small-clothes, for he also followed a fashion a little different from the English of that time. But of this I shall speak at greater length farther on.

"Monsieur de Brienne," he said, "I would like to ask you something of your father."

"He is dead," I answered.

And at this, God forgive me, I saw that I had deceived them all into thinking that I was my uncle's son, instead of his nephew. Now I reasoned if I should tell them my remarkable story, and proclaim that I did not know my father's name, and was all in a fog in regard to that of my mother, even although I knew so much about the past family history, I would put a sorry climax to a very good beginning. I regretted deeply that I should have to let them keep on in the error; but I spoke the truth, and I did not know it at the time.

"Monsieur de Brienne is dead?" repeated Monsieur de Brissac.

I sighed. "Alas!"

"He was a strange man, and they say the best swordsman at court—un vrai galant."

"There could be no better," I answered. "He taught me all I know."

The gentlemen smiled at this, but the next question that was asked me by the Marquis de Senez caused me to start.

"Your mother was—"

"Named Hurdiss," I put in. "She was very beautiful, but died in America, in the city of Baltimore, when I was but a child."

"Did your uncle leave no property? They say he took with him to America a large amount."

"I have this," I replied, producing the last of the buttons that had adorned the homespun coat that I wore at Marshwood. "All of my property was consumed at a fire—everything," I concluded. "I am left without a son, a relative, or a friend."

The gentlemen handed the button around.

"It is true. I remember that crest well," said the tall man. "And I remember well, also, your grandfather's beautiful daughters—twins, they were, and great favorites, as children, with the King."

"Yes," put in M. de Brissac; "and they married, after taking refuge here in England, one the Duke de B—— and the other the Comte de B——."[1]

The short nobleman here spoke, musingly:

"After their husbands' deaths they went to America, to seek their brother, probably, but they met with sad misfortune. Now I remember hearing something—"

My heart gave a great bound! Was I on the point of finding out my real name, and who I was by right and law?

"Yes," I said, quickly; "tell me."

"One of them was drowned in a shipwreck," Monsieur le Marquis continued. "Sad, sad, alas! and the other married some nobody, and went to reside in the wilderness."

I rather resented this, for I yet cherished the memory of him who had carried me on his shoulder, but I said nothing.

[Pg 316]

"Hortense and Hélène, those were the names," said the tall man.

"It was la belle Hélène who lost her life by drowning," said Monsieur le Marquis.

"Pardon me," put in Monsieur de Brissac; "it was Hortense, I am quite certain."

Here again arose the uncertainty.

"Who was it, monsieur, that married the English sea-captain?" I asked.

"Ah, was that it?" returned the tall man. "I did not know, nor have I any recollection of having heard which one of the ladies made this mésalliance."

The other gentlemen had come to no conclusion, and thus I found out nothing, after all. This was about the sum total of the talking we did at our first meeting, although it gives no idea of the time we were at it, and I was soon led away by the tall man, whose name, like the others, had the "de" of nobility, and was called de la Remy. I had caught the idea already that he was the landlord of the inn, and such was the fact. Indeed, a great many of the émigrés in England at this time were engaged in far less remunerative employments, and some had all they could do to put food into their mouths. Well, when I had taken a bath I was much refreshed; indeed, I could scarcely imagine that I was the same youth who had been halting along the road-side, ignorant of his whereabouts and careless as to his destination a few hours before.

As may be perceived (at least I should think the fact was evident enough), I had ceased to think of myself as a boy. It was only at times that my age would assert itself in a manner that led me to indulge in prankishness and skylarking. Thus when the hair-dresser came to my room, shown up by one of the inn servants, I pretended not to understand English, and, in consequence, they spoke openly before me. So I found out not a little. In the first place, I learned that Monsieur de Brissac and the Marquis de Senez (a Spanish title, I judge), were supposed to be very wealthy, and that I had been taken by the inn people for the private servant of the former, who had lost his way when ill some time previously, and had but now found his master. But of the more important thing, that I learned more by guesswork than from what was told me, I shall devote some space, but not now.

That night as I lay in a comfortable bed, after bidding my friends a good-night, I reasoned over the situation. I had been engaged as private secretary to the Marquis de Neuville (M. de Brissac), and would start for London with him on the morrow. There was but one regret, and that was the deception in regard to my name.

#### [to be continued.]

## THE FIGHTING SAVAGE.

### BY CYRUS C. ADAMS.

Within two years we have seen great nations waging four wars with peoples who are above the savage state, though not fully civilized according to our ideas. Two of these wars are now ended, and the results in both have been surprising.

It was thought that the Hova people of Madagascar would at least make an effort, when a French army invaded their great island in 1895, to repel the foreigners. They made a great show of resistance when the French landed their troops. They had cannon, powder, and thousands of rifles, collected an army of 30,000 men at their inland capital, and the Queen said she would lead them to battle if they needed her in the field. A nation of orators, they indulged in much brave and eloquent talk; but when it came to the pinch, they did not fight. The French marched into Antananarivo without any opposition worth mentioning, and are now the masters of Madagascar.

The brave mountaineers of Abyssinia have a different story to tell. For the first time a native African state has beaten a European power in a hard-fought war, driven the enemy out of her territory, and imposed her own terms of peace, including reimbursement for the board of about 2500 prisoners, at so much per week, during last summer. King Menelek has not lost a foot of territory; and Italy, which sent her army among those highlands to prove that the King was her vassal and his country her protectorate, has acknowledged the complete independence of Abyssinia. How did Menelek and his army win so signal a triumph?

THE MAHDISTS FIGHTING THE ENGLISH IN EGYPT.

In the first place, no other half-civilized nation to-day is so well armed as the Abyssinians. They fought the British once, and later, the Mahdists, with spears and a few muzzle-loading rifles. None of the soldiers now carries a spear or a muzzle-loading gun. All the small arms are breech-loaders. King Menelek came to the throne nearly eight years ago, and being an enterprising and an intelligent ruler, he has made great changes. He imported, through French territory, large quantities of excellent rifles. He induced French and Russian experts to come to his court, and they taught him many things, such as how to make gunpowder,[Pg 317] and to build small bridges and frame houses. In fact, for years he had been preparing for the possibility of a big war. His army outnumbered the Italians four to one. He had 60,000 fairly well drilled soldiers—all brave and hardy men, and he could depend upon their fealty, and knew they would fight as unflinchingly as any men.

THE WARRIORS OF KING MENELEK FIGHTING THE ITALIANS AT ADUA.

When the Italians moved into Abyssinia, Menelek and two-thirds of his army were in the southern province. The result was that the Italians pushed south to the very heart of the country before Menelek was able to confront them. After that, the Italians did not win a fight. In every battle, except the last one, the natives were the aggressors. Menelek's aim, with his larger force, was always to surround the enemy. He completely succeeded only once, and then the Italian detachment, 1000 strong, was killed almost to a man. Usually the Italians and their native allies broke and fled before Menelek had them penned inside his lines. The Abyssinians always tried to fight at close range, and were perfectly reckless in their daring. Their officers invariably led the charges and fought in the front rank, with the result that more of them were killed in proportion than of the common soldiers. The King had several thousand cavalry, but he made little use of them. Most of them were kept in the rear with instructions, if the infantry were compelled to retire, to impede the enemy's pursuit and guard the retreat. Under the circumstances the cavalry had little to do, except in the last great battle at Adua, where they pursued the routed Italians, and captured many of the 2500 prisoners.

While Menelek was forcing his enemies back north, the Italians paused from time to time in places they had previously fortified. Menelek had thirty cannon, but in no instance succeeded in destroying the walls. The courage with which the Abyssinians charged up to the fortifications won the admiration of their enemies, under whose galling fire many hundreds of natives were killed. Menelek could not capture the strongholds, and the Italians could not shake him off. In every case, till Adigrat was reached, hostilities were suspended by mutual consent; the Italians withdrew nearer to the northern boundary-line, and Menelek would then advance and attack them again.

Finally the Italians made a last desperate sally to retrieve their fortunes; and their fate was sealed in the all-day battle of Adua, where about 5000 of them were killed, wounded, or captured, and the rest fled pell-mell out of Abyssinia. At all times the Italian troops and most of their native allies fought well, but their leadership was shamefully incompetent. Even with good generals, they could not have whipped the Abyssinians without doubling or trebling their armed force.

Spain's present trouble in the Philippines extends to several islands, and includes the savages of Mindanao as well as the half-castes and creoles who live in Luzon. The latter island is the scene of the hostilities which are reported nearly every day. In a word, the trouble is that there are in the colony, according to Spanish statistics, 3000 Spanish priests and 5000 civil servants, and the people assert that they have been bled for the church, for the state, and for private peculators, until they can stand it no longer. In Luzon the inception and the progress of the rebellion have been marked by wonderful skill. Plans for the uprising, including the collection of arms and ammunition, were so quietly carried out that Marshal Blanco did not know what was going on until the very eve of the outbreak. In less than a week he was confronted by thousands of well-armed men, who dared to attack even the outskirts of Manila. At first they met the Spanish regulars in the open, but the insurgents had few if any cannon, and were at a disadvantage. A fortnight later they changed their tactics.

It is now their general policy to fortify strong positions and await the attacks of the enemy. When, however, they can bring against a Spanish force a much superior number of fighters, they attack with the greatest vigor. This plan of action seems wise, for the insurgents must bear in mind that they have only a fixed number of fighters, while the[Pg 318] Spanish may fill up the gaps in their ranks with recruits from home. The insurgents have occupied many towns in several provinces, and while they show no mercy to Spanish priests and officials, they respect the lives and property of other foreigners. Spain has sent about 15,000 soldiers to the island, and the end is not yet in sight.

A leading event this year is expected to be the reconquest of the Egyptian Sudan by the British and Egyptian forces, which was really begun in 1896. The step has been decided upon, and it is believed the undertaking will not be extremely difficult; and yet if there is any fighting the British will meet the very men who in 1885 showed that half-civilized peoples can do all that any men can do on a battle-field. Fiercer fighting was never seen than that the Mahdi's Arabs gave General Wolseley's forces on those desert battle-fields; and no men could fight as those Arabs did, with nothing but spears in their hands against trained soldiers with the best of modern fire-arms, if they had not been consumed with fanatical zeal.

Their leaders had no guns to give them, and so the orders were; "You are not to fight the enemies of God with ammunition, but with spears and swords." The Mahdi sent them word that Mohammed had proclaimed to him that on the day of battle thousands of angels would be with them to help them vanquish the unbelievers. Wild with religious zeal these hordes would rush across the sands, poising their spears, and fall upon the square in which the British army was formed. They were not checked for an instant by the withering fire or the wall of bayonets, and the very force and fury of their onslaught at Abu-Klea, the greatest of these battles, carried them through the line; and soldiers on the opposite side, firing at the Arabs in the square, killed their own comrades on the broken line. There are few things finer in the history of warfare than the story of the old sheikh on horseback at Abu-Klea, his banner aloft in one hand, his book of prayers in the other, advancing with his men and chanting his prayers till he had planted his banner in the centre of the British square, where he fell pierced with bullets.

The Mahdi is gone. The Sudan has been half depopulated and ruined by his successor. The people hate the Khalifa Abdullah, who has ground them to earth. Fanaticism is dead. But if the flame the Mahdi kindled, which consumed Hicks's large army, killed Gordon, and turned Wolseley's forces back down the Nile, were burning yet, the British would think long and seriously before undertaking the reconquest of the Sudan.

## BRONISLAU HUBERMANN AND LEONORA JACKSON.

### BY W. J. HENDERSON.

Bronislau Hubermann is a boy who plays the violin very much like a grown man. Now that means something more than merely sounding the tones correctly and smoothly. It means to show an understanding of the music and an artistic taste in its performance—two things which many adult players fail to do. Young Hubermann is therefore a remarkable boy, and it is not surprising that thousands of persons go to his concerts and sit as if spellbound while the youngster plays, for amazement joins with admiration to deepen the emotions caused by his fine performances. Just how old Hubermann is it is difficult to tell. He looks like a lad of sixteen; but his parents say that he was born in 1883 in Warsaw. They ought to know; but sometimes people like to make a gifted child appear younger than he really is, so as to increase the public wonder at his achievements. It really is not necessary in the case of Hubermann, because his playing would be sufficiently astonishing in a boy of sixteen.

He showed his musical ear when a mere child by singing the melodies which he heard. When he was six years of age he began the serious study of the violin, and in three months he had made such marvellous progress that he was able to play Rode's Seventh Concerto, a very difficult composition. This story sounds incredible, but we must remember that Mozart actually played the second violin part in a quartet when he had never had any instruction at all. He told his father it was not necessary to study in order to play the violin. After his childish appearances in public little Hubermann devoted a few years to further study, and then left his native land to seek glory in the most musical of all countries—Germany. He was enthusiastically praised there by the critics, while the public applauded him wildly. He made his first appearance in America at a concert in Carnegie Hall, New York, early in November, and achieved an immediate success.

He is a tall and rather awkward boy, but all his awkwardness disappears as soon as he begins to play. He produces from his instrument a very beautiful tone, and he always plays in tune, which shows that his ear is correct, and that his left hand has been trained carefully. But what is of more importance is that he plays with a great deal of feeling, and with an insight into the emotional meaning of the music which is altogether uncommon in so young a person. It is an interesting fact that Hubermann comes from Poland, which has produced so many admirable musicians. Among those who are familiar to living music-lovers are Paderewski, the great pianist, Jean and Edouard de Reszké, the famous singers, and young Josef Hofmann, who created so great a sensation when he gave his piano concerts at the age of ten.

Perhaps, however, we would do well to remember that all the musical genius of the world does not belong to those who are born on the other side of the Atlantic. To be sure, we are likely to incline to the opinion that it does, when we read about Mozart and Hofmann and other "wonderful children," as the Germans call them. But American boys and girls are just as full of artistic possibilities as those born abroad. And sometimes intelligence and hard work accomplish wonders even in music. Pasta, the famous soprano, had a very poor voice to begin with, and in our own time Lillian Norton, a Maine farmer's daughter, has made herself one of the foremost singers of the world just by study, and she is now famous everywhere as Madame Nordica. Now comes the story of Leonora Jackson, a California girl, who has carried off one of the great musical prizes of Germany.

She is the daughter of a merchant and banker, Charles P. Jackson, who lives in a very modest town with the unpoetic name of Mud Springs. When the Californians dislike that name they call it El Dorado; but Mud Springs is its real name. Miss Jackson's parents settled in this town in 1852, and she was born there in 1878, so that she is now eighteen years old. Mrs. Jackson was an amateur musician of real ability, and early in life Leonora showed that she had inherited her mother's inclinations. After her birth her parents moved to Chicago, where Mrs. Jackson became a successful music-teacher. The little girl began to study violin-playing, and she soon showed such gifts that her parents decided to place her under the most famous of teachers. At the age of fourteen she was sent to Berlin, where she became a pupil in the great Conservatorium.

The world-renowned violinist Dr. Joseph Joachim, who is regarded as the finest living player in the classic style, became her teacher, and took the deepest interest in her progress. She was afforded opportunities to appear in public, in order that she might acquire confidence in herself, and everything was done to enable her to make progress in her art. About two months ago she entered the competition for the Mendelssohn prize medal, for which she had as rivals players from various parts of Europe. It was a tremendous undertaking for a girl of eighteen, but Leonora won. Dr. Joachim embraced her with tears in his eyes, and the Berlin newspapers described her as a "girl wonder." It will be gratifying to all patriotic boys and girls to know that this girl's greatest pride in her triumph was that America had conquered. "I have held up the stars and stripes," she wrote home, "and I am satisfied."

After a time Leonora will undoubtedly set out as a concert performer, and of course that means that she will[Pg 319] come to America to play. Then her countrymen will have an opportunity to enjoy the exhibition of her gifts and accomplishments, and to applaud her not only for her violin-playing, but for her courage, her perseverance, and her patriotism. She will hardly be a great violinist at eighteen, but she is young and talented, and the future is full of promise for her, while her example ought to be an inspiration to all her young compatriots.

## THE "WARSPITE'S" CAPTAIN.

In the old days captains of the English ships of the line were not over-kind to their crews, but it is a well-established fact that shortly before a battle their geniality uncovered, and poor Jack was in the seventh heaven of delight. But, alas! if defeated, or through some order the ship would not be in the engagement, poor Jack felt the woes of his position more severely than ever. An example of this can be found in the following historical story:

The British seventy-four Warspite, in 1827, was sent from England to re-enforce the fleet under Sir Edward Codrington, then acting in concert with Russia and France to restrain the Turks in their brutalities against the Greeks, who were fighting for independence. The Warspite was in command of a Captain who had seen service under Nelson. The discipline under her previous Captain had been almost savage. The new Captain, by his mildness, soon won the hearts of his men; they almost worshipped him. One night in November, while carrying a press of sail, she crossed the stern of the American clipper-bark Rosiland, bound from Smyrna for Boston. "I suppose," hailed the Captain of the American, "you have not heard the glorious news. Codrington has blown the Turks and Egyptians sky-high!" The Warspite's studding-sails vanished like a dream, and she was rounded to, while her Captain hailed the Rosiland that he wished to board her. She at once hauled her mainsail up and backed her main-topsail. The Captain of the Warspite came on board from his barge, and remained nearly an hour. The details of the great battle of Navarino had reached Smyrna, and Captain Alden Gifford, who commanded the Rosiland, showed that it had been fought October 20, 1827, and that the entire Turkish and Egyptian fleets had been destroyed in a four hours' fight by the allied fleets, and that the independence of Greece was sure to follow. The Captain of the Warspite was satisfied with the truth of the report, and thanked Captain Gifford for heaving to and giving him the news. At parting he gave a deep sigh, and said, gravely, "Captain, I have but one eye, and I would rather have lost that than been out of it!" The next day, on board of the Warspite, a lot of offenders were brought before her Captain, who roared out in wrath, "Rig the gratings, call the boatswain and his mates, and all hands witness punishment!" Some eight men received two dozen lashes each, and from that day until the ship was paid off no guilty man escaped the cat. The tyrant knew the power of kindness to make men do their duty in battle, but when there was no prospect of fighting, his savage nature asserted itself. There was a report current in Portsmouth that when he commanded a frigate, his barge's crew dragged him out of a carriage, from alongside of his wife and daughter, and flogged him until he fainted from loss of blood.

## STREET SOUNDS.

What curious sounds come from the street,
How many kinds of noise!
There's the tramp, tramp, tramp of busy feet,
And the shouts of girls and boys;
The rambling of the wagon wheels,
The strolling peddler's cries,
And very often music steals
From the pavement toward the skies.
Albert Lee.

## THE REMARKABLE ADVENTURES OF SANDBOYS.

### BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS.

### THE LOST RING.

The boys had been discussing with Sandboys on the subject of fish and their habits, and, as usual, the bell-boy was full of information in that connection which he was willing to impart to his happy listeners. They found it hard to believe that sometimes, at the breaking up of winter, Sandboys had with his own eyes seen trout flop out of the lake and climb the bank after a worm that had come out of winter-quarters to rest for a little in the sun, but they did believe it, because he said it was so.

"I don't say that it's a reg'lar fixed habit of theirs, mind you," he added, as if he had no wish to deceive the boys into thinking that trout always behaved this way. "It's only occasionally you'll find a trout that'll do it, and then it's because he's so fearful hungry that he takes a risk. If it was a reg'lar fixed habit, catchin' trout'd be easy work. With a few decoy worms set around the banks o' the lake you could just sit down and wait till they came floppin' out after 'em, and then club 'em over the head with a tennis-racket or a cane. But it ain't, and you might wait a thousand years and never have the luck to see it."

"I'm rather surprised to hear that even one of them has ever done it," said Jack. "I always had an idea trout were shy, timid creatures."

"That's all Tommy-moonshine," said Sandboys, scornfully. That's the sort of stuff poets tell you about trout. Poetry trout are always shy and timid. They are allers lurkin' in the cool blue depths of purkling nooks. They spring past ye like a flash o' sunlight, an' are gone—the poetry trout do; but real trout's different. The trouble ain't the shyness of the trout, but the fact that the general run o' poets don't know how to fish for 'em. Why, there was a poet up here last summer—a feller with three names to his autygraph—and he got me to take him out fishin' one mornin', and I said all right, bait or fly? 'I'll fish with a fly, of course,' says he. 'I hate impalin' worms on hooks. Besides,' says he, 'fly-fishin's more sportsmanlike.' So I got him a dandy pole, lines, and some of the finest yeller sallies ye ever see. Down we went to the lake, and the first thing he did was to ask for an anchor. 'Thought you was goin' to fish with flies?' says I. 'I be,' says he. 'Hurry up and get the anchor aboard and we'll start in.' I thought he was crazy, but it ain't my place to tell guests they're crazy, so I got him the anchor, and out we went. 'Where's a good place?' says he. I showed him, and plump he let the anchor flop into the water with noise enough to scare a whale, not to mention a trout. Well, thinks I, this is goin' to be the fliest fly-fishin' I ever see. I never let on, though. It was his picnic, not mine. I just watched to see what he was agoin' to do next. He picked up the pole, an' let out about fifteen feet o' line, an' then he looked at the fly. 'Where's the sinkers?' says he, lookin' up, after a minute. 'The what?' says I. 'The sinkers,' says he, impatient like. 'Seems to me you're a very careless boy to forget the sinkers.' 'What do you want sinkers for?' says I. He looked at me for a second, an' then he asked: 'What kind of a boy are you, anyhow? What do I want with sinkers? Why, to sink the fly down to where the fish be, of course.'

"That," sniffed Sandboys, contemptuously, "is the kind of feller that says trout is shy. I guess they be shy when a feller tries fly-fishin' with sinkers."

"Then," said Bob, "trout aren't shy?"

"Not so shy as they try to make 'em out," said Sandboys. "Of course they don't come walkin' up around the corridors of the hotel; an' you don't often find 'em makin' themselves conspicuous in the ballroom; nor they ain't bold like college boys, runnin' all around chuckin' their college yells at the echo—in comparison with some folks we know they be shy; but, judgin' 'em from the stand-point of plain fish, they're as ordacious as any. They'd swim up to a shark if they met one, and sass him right to his face if they wanted to, without any fear of consequences or any[Pg 320] idee of bashfulness. Shy! Poh! It's all nonsense. Why, the only bit of highway robbery that's ever been known outside of the reg'lar business channels here was done by a trout—right down on Mirror Lake, too. Takes nerve to steal a ring right off a young lady's finger, I guess."

"Stole a ring off a young lady's finger!" cried Bob. "A trout?"

"Hyops!" assented Sandboys. "A trout, and right down there in the shadow of the Old Man too. It came near breakin' the young lady's heart. The ring didn't amount to much as a ring, but it had a lot o' sentimentals connected with it because it had been given to her by the young man she was engaged to, and she'd swore she'd never take it off. It was a little gold band with blue 'namel letters in it. The letters spelt MIZPAH. I don't know what Mizpah means, but I think it's Greek for George, because that was the young man's name.

"She'd only been here a week, and he was comin' up to spend Sunday. It was a Saturday afternoon it happened, and he was expected to arrive on the train that evening, and she was happy as could be over it. That afternoon she went out rowin' on the lake with another young man she'd met up here, and while they was out George arrived. He'd come up on an earlier train, just to surprise her, and I tell you what he didn't like it much when her ma said: 'Why, how do you do, George? This is delightful. Emily will be so pleased. We didn't expect you until to-night.' 'Well, I'm here,' said George. 'I thought I'd come some o' the way by boat, and get here three or four hours earlier. Started last night. Where is Emily?' 'She's down on the lake with Mr. Begum,' said the young lady's ma. 'Oh, is she?' said George. 'I'm glad she's havin' such a good time.' But he wasn't. You'd ought to seen his face fall when he heard she was out rowin', and not pinin' away because he wasn't there.

"Meanwhile the young lady and Mr. Begum was rowin' quietly over the lake, talkin' about literatoor and art and things like that. He was doin' the rowin' and she was trailin' her hand in the water—the hand with the Mizpah ring on it—when all of a sudden a trout gave a dart out o' the shadder of the rocks, opened his mouth, caught holt of the ring, pulled it right off, an' retired; an', worst of all, two minutes later George appeared on the bank o' the lake and called out to her that he was there. She was awfully cut up. The surprise at seein' him, an' the grief at losin' his ring she'd said would never be took off her finger, was a fearful combination, 'specially as George noticed, the minute she came ashore, that the ring was gone.

"'Where's the ring?' said he. An' she told him how the trout had behaved, and it seemed to make him awful gloomy. Ye see, he didn't believe it. He thought it was a fish story, and he said so. He had an' idee she'd given the ring to Mr. Begum, and he was pretty mad about it."

"It did sound like a fish story," put in Jack. "Seems to me I'd find it hard to believe myself, if you hadn't told it to me."

Sandboys smiled his appreciation of this compliment to his veracity, and continued:

"They didn't, either of 'em, say much after that, and all day Sunday George sat around and read novels in the office, and the young lady staid with her mother. They'd quarrelled, that was evident, and on Monday George went back home again, and the young lady said they'd never been engaged. The fact was they'd broke it off!

"And now comes the funny part of it. All that summer, and the next, and three more, went by, and nothin' more was ever heard of the ring. The young lady kept a comin' back every year, but she didn't seem to care anything about nobody. She just staid with her ma all the time, and looked pale and unhappy. She'd never made it up with George, and he never could be got to believe the story of how that dishonest little trout had golluped down the ring he'd gave her. The fifth summer after, he came through the mountains with a bicycle party, and they decided to rest a couple of days here. She wasn't here that summer, so he could stay without bein' embarrassed. The mornin' after he got here he asked me to take him fishin', and we went down to the lake. He was a dandy castin' a fly, an' I rowed him up and down, and up and down, for a couple of hours, and he kept a-whippin' and a-whippin' without any luck. Finally he says to me, 'Sandboys, I'll just try it once more, and if I don't get nothin' we'll go back to the hotel and order our fish off the bill of fare, instead of foolin' around here where I don't believe there ain't 'never been no trout.' I see in a minute what he was thinkin' about, but I never said a word. 'All right, sir,' says I, and he flicked the fly once more on the water, and, by hookey, up came a beauty! It was a reg'lar out-and-out three-pounder. And, I tell you, he had to work to get him into the boat; but as he wasn't no poet, an' knew how it was done, he did land him finally.

"'We'll have him for dinner to-night,' says he, with a proud look—and he did. The fish was fried and served at supper; but when the head waiter brought him in to the table, he hands George an envellup, with the remark that it contained somethin' that had been found inside the trout. George got white as a sheet, opened the envellup, and, by hookey, there was the Mizpah ring!"

"Goodness!" gasped Jack. "Wasn't that great!"

"What did he do?" queried Bob. "Faint?"

"Not he," said Sandboys. "He wasn't the faintin' kind. He jumped up from the table, and rushed off to the telegraph office, and sent a telegram to Miss Emily Harkaway at Narrowgansett Pier, sayin': 'Will arrive to-morrow. George.' And he went.

"The next summer he came back again, and he brought her with him. She'd become Mrs. George, and, by hookey, she had the ring with her; but this time she wore it on her neck, with a row o' diamonds set all about it that would have made that trout blind just to look at it, it dazzled so.

"So you just remember what I tell ye. When people give you that story about trout bein' shy, you can contradict 'em, whether it's perlite for small boys to contradict or not; an' if they take ye up, tell 'em about the speckled highway robber of Mirror Lake. That'll take the starch right out of their theories!"

[Pg 321]

The skating races of the New York Interscholastic League, held a week ago at the St. Nicholas Rink, proved exceedingly interesting, and all the events were unexpectedly hotly contested. Morgan of De La Salle had by no means so easy a time of it as his supporters had believed he would, and Paulding of Berkeley, who last winter represented Black Hall School in the pole vault at the Knickerbocker games, proved himself an important factor in the competition. Last year De La Salle carried off all the honors, but on this occasion Berkeley and De La Salle finished with an equal number of points to their credit.

THE DE LA SALLE INSTITUTE SKATING TEAM.

The only thing that occurred to mar the pleasantness of the proceedings was the avalanche of protesting. At the time of writing no action has been taken on these protests, and I doubt if they will affect the results. The protest against Morgan, that he had worked for his living at one time, seems to be invalid, for, so far as I am aware, there is nothing in the constitution of the New York Interscholastic Association which prevents a boy from earning an honest living. Of course, when it comes to a question of a foul, that is a different matter; but I have it on very good authority that Paulding of Berkeley himself denies that he was in any way fouled by Morgan, and yet a protest against Morgan for fouling Paulding was entered.

Paulding. McClave. Morgan.
THREE OF THE WINNERS AT THE N.Y.I.S.A.A. SKATING RACES.

The preliminary heats were held on Friday evening, January 15, and there seemed to be more enthusiasm among the skaters in the trials than there was in the finals. There were about seventy-five[Pg 322] entries all told. The events contested were 220-yard dash, 440-yard dash, 880-yard dash, and one mile. Morgan won his heat in the 220, the 440, and the mile, Paulding being second to him in the mile, third in the 220, and second to McClave in the second heat of the 440.

The 880-yard event was for "juniors," and the heats were taken by Inman of Cutler's, Einstein of Harvard School, and Rock of Condon's. The last heat would very probably have been won by Eddinger of Columbia Institute, if he had not had the hard luck to fall on the final lap, when he had a good lead, and was holding his own with the field.

In the finals on Saturday evening the racers made invariably better time than they had done in their trial heats. The 440 was won by Paulding, with Morgan second. Morgan's defeat was undoubtedly due to the fact that he made a false start, and was penalized three yards by the referee. There was a pretty good field, and the De La Salle man found it impossible, in the short distance, to pass through. The 880-yard event was taken by Inman of Cutler's; Einstein of Harvard gave him a pretty close race, but fell twice, and did not finish among the leaders.

The 220-yard dash was a victory for Morgan, who jumped to the lead as soon as the signal to start was given, and was never passed. He also won the mile in fine fashion, leaving his nearest rival, Paulding, two laps behind him, and Paulding headed the field by almost another full lap.

The summary of events follows:

Events. | Winner. | Second. | Third. |  | Time.
220 yards. | Morgan. | Paulding. | Proctor. |  | 24-3/5 sec.
440 yards. | Paulding. | Morgan. | McClave. |  | 52 sec.
880 yards. | Inman. | Coffin. | Proctor. | 1 m. | 43-4/5 sec.
One mile. | Morgan. | Paulding. | Ritman. | 3 m. | 7-2/5 sec.

SUMMARY OF POINTS BY SCHOOLS.

| Firsts. | Seconds. | Thirds. | Total.
De La Salle | 2 | 1 | 0 | 13
Berkeley | 1 | 2 | 2 | 13
Cutler | 1 | 1 | 0 | 8
Trinity | 0 | 0 | 1 | 1
Harvard | 0 | 0 | 1 | 1

In-door baseball has not met with very much favor thus far among the South Side schools of Chicago, and the reason alleged is that Englewood and Hyde Park, the two schools which are leaders in almost every other branch of athletics, have not yet succeeded in winning a game this year at the in-door sport. Austin, the last year's champion, was defeated by Lake View, 7-3. This victory has led to the opinion that Lake View would probably take the championship this season.

Hyde Park was badly defeated by North Division in its schedule game. The score was 26-0. Englewood did better against Evanston, and besides putting up a better game was only defeated 10-4. Englewood's next game was lost to Lake View, 8-11. Hyde Park's next defeat was administered by Austin.

Austin's success is largely due to the excellence of its pitcher, Pottwin. Decker, the short stop, has also been putting up an excellent game, and in the match against Hyde Park he knocked out a home run, besides playing an errorless game in the field. The Hyde Park players seem to be fairly good at fielding, but they show a great lack of practice.

The matches in the ice-polo league of the Boston schools have developed good sport during the recent cold weather, and the schedule has afforded a number of close games. Dorchester played a tie game with Roxbury Latin on Franklin Field Friday afternoon, January 15, the score being 1-1. Only one twenty-minute period was played. Dorchester rather outclassed Roxbury Latin in passing and driving, but was unable, nevertheless, to get the ball into Roxbury's cage the second time.

On the same afternoon, at Mystic Lake, Winchester met Cambridge High and Latin, and was defeated 7-0. The Cambridge men developed some excellent team-work, and showed some pretty combination plays. In a game between Medford High and Everett High, Medford won 3-1. Especially good work was done by Otis, Thompson, and Glidden.

HOCKEY: SHOWING GOAL, CLUBS, AND PUCK.

A number of communications have been addressed to this Department requesting that some description be given of the Canadian game of hockey, of which we have heard more than usual this year. In fact, in and about New York hockey is fast superseding ice polo; the latter, purely American game, being played mostly in New England. Hockey is, of course, akin to ice polo, but it has a number of points of difference, and is considered by the Canadians a much better game than our ice polo. Perhaps one of the chief advantages of hockey is that more players can take part in the sport than in ice polo.

The Yale Hockey Team is one of the few teams in this country, so far as I know, that plays the straight Canadian game, although this winter several of the athletic clubs in and about New York have taken up hockey, and will, no doubt, eventually develop strong teams. The Yale men have found the Canadian game so interesting, that they have devoted all their energies to it, and it is said that they will meet some of the Canadian teams during the winter. Space[Pg 323] will not allow of a very lengthy description of the game, but in a few words a rough idea of the sport may be given, and a book of the rules with fuller information can doubtless be obtained of any dealer in sporting goods.

A Canadian Hockey team consists of seven players, who are known as Goal, Point, Cover Point, Centre Forward, Centre, Left Wing, and Right Wing, arranged on the field, or rather on the ice, in the following positions:

L.W. | C. | R.W.
| C.F.
| C.P.
| P.
| G.

Instead of the ball which we use in ice polo, the Canadians play with a rubber disk about an inch thick and some three inches in diameter. This is called a "puck." The sticks of the Canadians are also somewhat differently shaped from those used in ice polo, the main difference being that they are longer, and wider at the bottom, and usually constructed of lighter wood. They do not strike the puck as polo-players strike the ball, but rather aim to shove it along the ice, and more often than not the Canadians use both hands, instead of wielding their club with one hand only.

In this way the Canadians are able to make a certain peculiar shove which enables them to lift the rubber disk over the heads of their opponents, and some of them become so skilful at this that they can place the puck so that it will fall on edge and bound into the opposing goal. Perhaps it is this quality of the disk over the ball which has made it necessary in the Canadian game to allow the defensive players to stop the puck in any way they choose, instead of as in ice polo, where the ball may only be stopped by the sticks, the feet, or the body.

The space demanded for Canadian hockey is 112 feet by 58 feet, although the game is possible in a more restricted area. The goal is placed at the middle point of the two shorter lines; it consists of two upright posts four feet high placed six feet apart, and to score a goal the puck has to be driven between the posts. The game is played in two halves of twenty minutes each, and the opposing teams change sides after the interimission, which is of ten minutes.

The Canadians are very strict about off-side play, and the referees invariably enforce the rule which declares that when a player hits the puck any one of the same side who is nearer the opponent's goal-line is off-side, and may therefore not touch the disk or prevent any other player from doing so until the puck has been played by an opponent. A penalty for off-side play is the surrender of the puck to the opposing side; the other players must then stand at a distance of not less than five yards from the puck; but if the offence has been committed within ten yards of either goal the disk is faced in the ordinary way. There are the usual restrictions against kicking and tripping and charging, and against carrying the disk in the hand, and the goal-keeper is not allowed during play to lie or kneel or to sit upon the ice, but must maintain a standing position.

In the United States the hockey-players have not yet developed the team play which makes the Canadian game so interesting, our men, having been brought up on ice polo, relying more on their own quickness and individual skill. But the advantage of team-work is being more and more understood by us, and Americans will no doubt soon equal the Canadians at this feature of the sport.

At the several in-door games of the New York schools this winter we shall look for the development of much new material in track athletics, for by graduation and other causes many of the best performers of the Interscholastic League have made room for other stars. The New York pole-vaulters will have their hands full to hold their own against Paulding, the Black Hall vaulter, who is now at Berkeley, and I doubt if there is any one who can surpass him. The change in the height of the hurdles, too, will make that event more equal toward new and old hurdlers, and the chance of the appearance of new material in this event is excellent.

In Boston the chief in-door event of the winter for the schools is always the big B.A.A. meeting in March, and then we will get our first line on the New-Englanders that will come down here to measure skill with New York in the Madison Square Garden. Judging from the place-men in the spring events of the New England league, the Boston schools will turn out some strong performers this season.

In Connecticut there have also been losses; but many of the best athletes, especially of the Hartford High-School, are on hand, notably Luce and Sturtevant. The latter will be the most dangerous man in the high jump. I am told, too, that Hartford has a new man in the weights who will make Boyce of Boston English High stretch himself to the utmost.

#### "TRACK ATHLETICS IN DETAIL."—Illustrated.—8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

The Graduate.

### SALUTING A CAT.

There is at least one place in the world where the cat was until recently held in high honor, and received the attention due to one of so high a station in life. That place is India, where in a fortress the sentries invariably used to present arms to every cat that appeared on the scene.

The custom is accounted for by this singular anecdote, which comes from what appears to be good authority.

Some fifty years ago it happened that a very high English official died in an Indian fortress, at a place that is one of the centres of Brahminic religion, and at the moment when the news of his death met the Sepoy guard at the main gate a black cat rushed out of it.

The superstitious guard presented arms to the cat as a salute to the dying spirit of the powerful Englishman, and the coincidence took a firm hold upon the locality, that up to a few years ago neither exhortation nor orders could prevent a Hindu sentry at that gate from presenting arms to any cat that passed out at night.

The train was roaring along about forty miles an hour, and the conductor was busily punching tickets full of holes, when a little thin old man who sat in one of the corner seats plucked his sleeve.

"Mister conductor, you be sure and let me off at Speers Station. You see, this is the first time I ever rode on steam-cars, and I don't know anything 'bout them. You won't forget it, eh?"

"All right, sir; I won't forget."

The old man brushed back a stray lock of hair and, straightening himself, gazed with increasing wonder at the flying landscape, every now and then exclaiming, "Gracious!" "By gum!" etc.

Suddenly there was a crash, and after a number of gymnastic moves that made him think of his school-days, he found himself sitting on the grass of the embankment alongside the track.

Seeing another passenger sitting a short distance away, patiently supporting various parts of the splintered car across his legs, he inquired,

"Is this Speers Crossing?"

The passenger, who was a drummer, and not altogether new to such happenings, replied, with a smile, although in considerable pain,

"No; this is catastrophe."

"Is that so," he irritably exclaimed. "Now I knew that conductor would put me off at the wrong place."

## ADVERTISEMENTS.

Celebrated for its great leavening strength and healthfulness. Assures the food against alum and all forms of adulteration common to the cheap brands.

#### ROYAL BAKING POWDER CO., NEW YORK.

[Pg 324]

## QUESTIONS FOR YOUNG MEN.

### ON MONEY.

"What are you going to do when you get through college?" said one schoolboy to the other a short time ago.

"I'm going to make a lot of money, and then buy a seat in the United States Senate," was the reply.

"Why don't you go to work to get into the Senate direct?"

"Because it's too hard work; and when you've got money you can get anything else you want."

That is a popular idea among young men, who have made "American" almost synonymous with "money-maker." There seems to be an idea among not only young but old men that if you make money in any way you will be fitted for anything else. In a certain way this is true. For if you can buy anything, you can buy men who know what you do not know, and hire them to do certain things for you that take lifetimes to accomplish. The truth is that if you start now and make up your mind to make money first, you will not be able to do anything but money-making business, and if you fail in this, there will be no other course open to you. This does not mean that a money-making business is an unworthy one; that idea is common among certain classes of short-sighted clergymen; but it does mean that to start out with no idea but choosing a business only with regard to money is wrong, and is likely to turn out to your disadvantage. We have all seen in school, and will see in college, fellows who have large allowances. They certainly can do things which are beyond us. Such men can have a better time because they have money, and they can give their friends a better time. But unless they have other qualities their money is of no advantage; it may quite frequently be a great disadvantage. The point is that a fellow at school must be a good chap. He must have a certain amount of chivalry, of self-respect, of generosity, and good-fellowship. If he has all these, he is a good chap anyway, and sure to be a leader and a friend of all in the school. If he has a lot of money also, and knows how to use it, he is all the better chap. If he has the money and none of the qualities mentioned, his money does him not the least good, and may very likely do him harm. You will find the thing just the same at college, for college is only a little larger school. There are many fellows at college who have money and use it well, but the mere fact that a man has cash in his pocket does not get him on to athletic teams, or into college clubs or societies, or at the head of his class. It helps him on if he's a good chap; it holds him back if he isn't. Then by-and-by, when you get through college, you will find it just the same in businesses of all kinds. Money seems to help a good man along, and seems to be the worst enemy of a bad man. So that to think only of money first, and then of doing fine things with it after it is gained, is putting the cart before the horse. And if you want to be in the Senate, it's the wrong way to go at it to go down to South America and work in a gold-mine for twenty years simply and solely to "raise the cash" for the purpose of buying the votes of a State, even if such a procedure were moral and right, which is unquestionably not the case. Rather make up your mind what you want to do, and then try to make a financial success of it, as well as all other kinds of successes. If it is the hide and leather business, try to make money each year, but try also to make money fairly, to learn the trade thoroughly, and to keep pace with the literature, the politics, the life of your own day. If it is the ministry or law or literature, try to make both ends meet each year, and to make money just the same, but don't forget that all these branches of work require something besides cash to make them successes. In a certain way it is just as wrong to try to believe that money is an evil as it is to let yourself believe that money is the only thing worth having. It is a great and good thing when you have learned how to use it, and a mighty poor thing when it is abused. Decide therefore on what work you will set out, without regard to money, and then try to make a financial as well as an intellectual success of it.

### SWIFT VESSELS OF PAST DECADES.

There are but few spots of the ocean's surface that are not traversed by steamships, and possibly no spot into which the tramp steamship has not poked its nose. Years ago this could be claimed for the famous clippers of the United States, but steam has crowded them out of use, and to-day hardly a dozen sail under our flag. The States of Maine and New Hampshire produced many magnificent clippers. The Challenge, the Sea-Witch, the Young America, the Swordfish, the Dreadnought, Queen of Clippers, Witch of the Wave, Spitfire, Witchcraft, and over one hundred others that might be named, carried the American flag triumphantly around the world, and obtained the highest rates of freight even in British ports. The ship Natchez, of New York, 523 tons, though not a clipper, made the passage from Hong-kong (China) to New York in 72 days. She was originally a New Orleans and Havre packet, flat on the floor, to enable her to cross the bar at the mouth of the Mississippi, and had sharp ends. Probably one of the most pathetic endings of a famous clipper-ship is that of the Great Admiral, built in 1869, and owned by the heirs of William F. Weld & Co.; she is now lying idle, and though in excellent order, will probably be dismantled and converted into a coal-barge. She is the only famous clipper left of all the fine fleet of nearly one hundred sail once owned by William T. Weld & Co. The firm, like its shipping, is a thing of the past. The ship Charger, of 1378 tons, built in 1874 by Henry Hastings, though still afloat at last accounts, was not making money for her owner. The splendid ships North American and South American, built by Mr. Hastings, and once prominent in the California trade, were wrecked a few years ago.

Since the disappearance of clippers we have built ships of 3000 and 4000 tons for the Pacific grain trade, and though full modelled, they more than hold their own against all nations. Our Atlantic coasting trade is carried on in huge schooners, ranging from 500 to 1500 tons, with three, four, and five masts. Many of these had centre-boards, but most of the new vessels are built without them.

Although Baltimore has the credit of first applying the term "clippers" to fast vessels, all maritime nations have aimed to excel on the water. The French ships were generally better sailers than the English, and hence, when beaten in naval warfare, often escaped capture. At the battle of St. Vincent, though they defeated more than twenty sail of French and Spaniards, they captured only four, and two of these were taken by Nelson. But whenever the English captured a fast sailing-vessel they copied her lines. Emerson says, "the Frenchman invented the collar, but the Englishman added the shirt."

### THE DISADVANTAGES OF PLAGIARISM.

A rather amusing story is told of a certain so-called "popular preacher," the Rev. Dr. D——, whose marvellous powers of eloquence invariably gathered him large audiences. People wondered at his sermons, and proclaimed him an intellectual genius. Now the doctor was a plagiarist who patched up his own exceedingly poor sermons by introducing here and there passages from the sermons of celebrated divines, but the ingenuous way in which he accomplished this prevented discovery. Then, too, his audiences, he calculated, were not students of theology, and therefore not likely to detect his appropriations. But in this he made his mistake, and his exposure took place as follows:

One day an elderly gentleman entered the church and took a seat in the first row. As the doctor proceeded with his sermon the gentleman broke in now and then with such remarks as, "That's Sherlock." "Ah, from Tillotson." "Now it's Blair," etc.

The doctor stood it for a little while, but at last, full of wrath, he said:

"My dear sir, if you do not restrain your impertinent remarks and hold your tongue, I'll have you ejected."

The elderly gentleman, looking the doctor calmly in the face, said, "That's his own."

[Pg 325]

> This Department is conducted in the interest of stamp and coin collectors, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on these subjects so far as possible. Correspondents should address Editor Stamp Department.

Practically all the 1897 catalogues are now on the market. The best catalogue, containing a list of all varieties of stamps, envelopes, postal cards, etc., can be had for 58c., postage prepaid, of any dealer; but there are a number of smaller catalogues, adapted to the wants of all except specialists and advanced collectors, which can be bought for 10c. each. These smaller catalogues are having a great sale, as the new albums omit the scarce varieties in perforations, water-marks, etc., which appeal to those specialists who are able to invest large sums in stamps, all of whom keep their treasures in blank albums. The catalogues and the albums conform to each other.

> C. E. Steele.—The rare 6c. Proprietary is the orange. The 1823 dime is worth 25c.

> S. G. Rippey.—You can buy a dime of 1837 for 35c.

> H. C. Z.—Tokens have no value. The coins can be bought for 5c. or 10c.

> Beverley S. King, 31 New York Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y., and W. E. Shreve, Ridley Park, Pa., wish to exchange stamps.

> O. H. Purcell.—The $1 Columbian is worth $5. The others may be worth more in a few years than at present.

> A. Kellogg.—The U. S. Revenues most in demand are the general issues. As yet the private proprietary match and medicine stamps can be bought, as a rule, as cheaply to-day as five years ago. Probably their turn will come in a year or two. If they should become fashionable, there will be some remarkable changes in prices.

> F. X. Schmidt.—Die A, 1887, usually called the "rejected die," can be easily identified. The bust points to the space between the third and fourth teeth of the inside row. In the regular issue, Die B, the bust points to space between the second and third teeth.

> R. Bulkley.—You probably have the regular rose 1861 stamp, of which there are many shades. The pink is excessively rare. A very few copies are known.

> W. Leveridge.—None of the coins are scarce, and several of them are now uncurrent, and therefore worth bullion only, but they are interesting aside from intrinsic value.

> Thomas Laurie.—Many pen and ink cancellations have been removed from stamps, but the stamps present a "cleaned" appearance quite different from the real unused. Most postage-stamps have been printed in oil colors; and most cancellations have been made with oily inks. Where this has been the case it is impossible to remove cancellation without taking out the ink of the stamp itself. No premium on the 1894 dollar. There were few made, but still plenty to go around and leave some in dealers' hands.

> M. A. T.—The portraits used in the present U. S. stamps are as follows: 1c., Franklin; 2c., Washington; 3c., Jackson; 4c., Lincoln; 5c., Grant; 6c., Garfield; 8c., Sherman; 10c., Webster; 15c., Taylor; 30c., Jefferson; 90c., Perry.

> C. Rawson.—I cannot give you values on long lists of common stamps. You can get this and much other information from a 10c. catalogue. If the catalogue fails, I am glad to do what I can in justice to all the readers of the stamp column.

> A. T. G.—Yes! Join the A.P.A. if you want to buy the new issues. It will cost $1.80 per year for membership fees.

> James Mellen.—It is extremely difficult to distinguish originals from reprints of the first Samoa issues. Counterfeits also abound, but these can be distinguished. The early Heligoland stamps are also difficult to identify. The government sold the original dies and plates to a German dealer, who reprinted the stamps in the correct colors.

> J. P. Nelker.—The early stamps of Lagos and Labnan are very scarce, used or unused, although many thousands of the lower values were used in making up packets in the '80s. It would not be worth your while collecting them unless you are prepared to spend much money.

> Albert Green.—Your plan of collecting one at least of all the stamp-issuing countries is very good, as far as it goes, but you will make it much better by collecting one stamp of each set where the design is different or the color changed. Usually there are several cheap stamps in every issue, and they illustrate the set quite as well as if they were rare varieties or high values.

Philatus.

The price of good things oft is high,
But wise housekeepers tell
That Ivory Soap is cheap to buy
And best to use, as well.

#### Copyright 1896, by The Procter & Gamble Co., Cin'ti.

## POPULAR BOOKS

### FOR YOUNG PEOPLE

### By HOWARD PYLE

Illustrated by the Author

THE WONDER CLOCK. Large 8vo, Half Leather, Ornamental, $3.00.
PEPPER AND SALT. 4to, Cloth, Ornamental, $2.00.
THE ROSE OF PARADISE. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.
TWILIGHT LAND. 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $2.50.
MEN OF IRON. 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $2.00.
A MODERN ALADDIN. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

### By THOMAS W. KNOX

The "Boy Travellers" Series

#### ADVENTURES OF TWO YOUTHS IN

THE LEVANT
SOUTHERN EUROPE
CENTRAL EUROPE
NORTHERN EUROPE
GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND
MEXICO
AUSTRALASIA
ON THE CONGO
THE RUSSIAN EMPIRE
SOUTH AMERICA
CENTRAL AFRICA
EGYPT AND PALESTINE
CEYLON AND INDIA
SIAM AND JAVA
JAPAN AND CHINA

Copiously Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental $3.00 per vol.

OTHER BOOKS BY COLONEL KNOX:

THE YOUNG NIMRODS IN NORTH AMERICA
THE YOUNG NIMRODS AROUND THE WORLD

2 vols., Copiously Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $2.50 each.

#### HARPER & BROTHERS, Publishers, New York

[Pg 326]

### How I "visited" Mashonaland.

Older readers are always glad to hear from our entertaining correspondent in South Africa, and we are sure that new readers will no less enjoy her delightful morsels. She tells us this time how she visited Mashonaland without leaving Cape Colony. She wonders if she is too old, having just passed her eighteenth birthday. We beg to assure her she is not, and that the Table will be pleased to hear from her for many years yet. Here is her morsel. It is written from Roydon, Queenstown, Cape Colony, South Africa:

> A few months before the rebellion in Mashonaland broke out, a young gentleman of my acquaintance made up his mind to have a six months' tour through this new country. He went beyond the great Zambesi River, and had many strange adventures. I am afraid I will not have space to tell you of more than two of them.

> While hunting near the Zambesi, Mr. H—— was told that a lion had been creating a great disturbance in the neighborhood. He offered to go and hunt it if the chief would lend him some of his men. But on no account could they be induced to accompany him. Growing impatient at last, he set off with a few of his own servants. They followed the spoor of the animal for some little time, until they came to a dense bush. Glancing back, Mr. H—— saw that his followers were not far behind him, so he went on, looking carefully about him. At last he saw before him two large trees; behind one of them stood "King Leo." A rapid glance back sufficed to show that his cowardly servants had deserted him, and he was quite alone. He fired at the lion, which gave a fearful roar and sprang at him. Fortunately, however, the shot had disabled it, and it sprang short. Mr. H—— gave it another shot and killed it. On going in search of his men, the hunter found them hidden among the branches of the trees, too much terrified even to answer him. Mr. Selous says it is the second largest lion he has seen. The skin is very handsome, but as I examined it I felt very thankful that its owner was not alive.

> The second adventure was rather a comical one. While camping out one day Mr. H—— heard what he thought was the report of a gun. Knowing elephants were about, he concluded that some one was hunting them. Snatching up his gun, he hastily set off in the direction of the sound, without taking a mouthful of food. On and on he tramped, but never a sight of either elephants or hunters did he catch. Still, every now and then he heard the report of guns, sometimes near at hand, sometimes far off. He walked for thirty-six hours, hoping to be rewarded by the sight of the elephants. At last he saw below him a thickly wooded ravine, in which the animals might be hidden. He scrambled down to it, and sat down under a huge tree to rest. Suddenly he heard the report just above his head. Springing to his feet, he looked up, and—the mystery was explained. The tree was full of peculiar-looking pods, which every now and then burst with a loud report. It was rather exasperating to have walked all that way for nothing, was it not?

> I was very much delighted with his fine collection of horns. They were all of different kinds, and of different sizes, some of them being exceedingly handsome. Two very large python-skins next attracted my attention. Imagine my surprise when Mr. H—— coolly told me they were considered quite small in Mashonaland! "I'm never going there until it is civilized, then," I said, very decidedly.

> "Did you notice any signs of rebellion during your travels?" I asked one day. "No," was the answer. "It struck me that the natives were a very subdued race, and I feel sure it is some under-handed dealing which has caused the revolt. The natives were exceedingly kind to me. As soon as I entered a new territory I would go to the chief and say, 'I want to go hunting; can you give me a guide?' The chief would answer, 'Yes, I will give you a guide to such and such a place. That is as far as my territory extends.' They never asked for pay, which was rather refreshing after being used to the civilized (?) natives of Cape Colony. Their first question is always, 'What will you give me for doing it?'" The Mashonas have no idea of money.

> On his return journey he wanted to buy some grain, and sent word to the chief. Next day a number of natives came, each carrying a basket of grain. "How much do you want for it?" asked Mr. H——. They named their price—a high one—which he refused to give. There was a big argument, and he was beginning to think he would not be able to get the grain, when it struck him to offer salt for it. Pulling out a handful of salt from a bag, he asked the natives what they would give for it. "So much!" they cried, eagerly, indicating the quantity of grain. So, at the end of the day, he got as much grain as he wanted for a few handfuls of salt. Time and space fail me, or I would tell you about some other curious things I saw—of the queer little chair and table, both cut from a single piece of wood, and which belonged to Lobenguela's brother, of the cream-of-tartar trees, and many other funny things. But—I can almost see the frown on Mr. Editor's face as he contemplates the length of this so-called "morsel," and I daren't write more. However, if he will kindly give me permission I will write again, and tell you more of my interesting "visit to Mashonaland." In the mean time I will bid you good-by.

Your friend,
Isma Fincham, R.T.F.

The Editor gives his permission promptly. Please write again.

### A Founder's Sad End.

When one tries experiments one should be extremely careful of the tools employed. The Table has to record a most distressing incident in this connection. One of the original members of our Order was Vernon S. White, a son of Mr. F. W. White, of Omaha, Nebraska. He was a Founder, and preserved his Founder certificate because of the honor it stood for. He was much given to trying experiments. He had sent some suggestions to us concerning them, at least one of which we published. The others we read with interest, but failed to find space for them. A few weeks since Sir Vernon, while trying an experiment in his room, lost his balance, fell, and met his death. He was thirteen years old, and an only child. The Table expresses its deep sympathy, and begs its other friends of a scientific and experimental mind to be careful.

### Answers to Kinks.

No. 59.—CIVIC.

No. 60.—The letter T.

### No. 61.

G | L | O | B | E | S
L | E | V | A | N | T
O | V | E | R | G | O
B | A | R | B | E | L
E | N | G | E | D | I
S | T | O | L | I | D

### About Slang.

> Why is slang denounced by the best writers? We know that all slang is not low, and we further know that slang expressions convey to multitudes of people the thought of the speaker more clearly than if his sentences were clothed in the finest possible manner. This question arises from an argument.

Lester W. Bellows.
Waterloo, N. Y.

We do not quite agree that slang better conveys the thought of the speaker than do other and more generally recognized words. That depends upon the speaker and upon what he is trying to say. Slang does not consist in the words themselves so much as in the way they are spoken, the frequency of their utterance, etc. Words are harmless in themselves; the manner of using them may not be equally so. Slang is denounced because it tends toward the vulgar, the common—not always the words perhaps, but that which lies beyond them. Some slang terms are very expressive, and these generally come into reputable use, when needed, and when the atmosphere surrounding the inception of them has drifted away.

### Corresponding Chapter.

In Milwaukee there has always been not a few active and most creditable members. Not long since some of them organized a Corresponding Chapter. It wants members everywhere. The membership fee is ten cents; dues, nothing; and members resident in foreign countries free. The Chapter has a circulating library. It sends a membership certificate of its own, and hopes to have some prize contests. The officers are Edward F. Daas, secretary, 1717 Cherry Street, Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The president is Edward C. Wood, and vice-president Charles D. Turnbull. The president lives in Philadelphia, and the Chapter is already organized on the correspondence plan.

### Questions and Answers.

A Fort Wayne member asks what is the most expensive product in the world. We cannot tell surely, but the most expensive one we ever read of is a charcoal thread employed as filaments for incandescent electric lamps. Filaments designed for thirty-candle-power lamps are worth $12,000 a pound. It requires 1,500,000 of these filaments to make a pound, and their total length would be 187 miles.—Harry M. Jones: The first United States census was taken in 1790, and the next one will be taken in June, 1900. The discussion whether the twentieth century begins January 1, 1900, or January 1, 1901, is idle to enter into.—"Young Politician": President-elect McKinley is free to select any persons he pleases for places in his cabinet, the only restriction being that Secretaries must be American citizens above certain ages. That which prevents him from selecting unfit men is his desire to make his administration successful. The President nominates his cabinet officials to the United States Senate, but that body, while it holds a legal right to confirm or reject such names, always, as a matter of courtesy, confirms them, holding that a President ought to be permitted to have such men in his official family as he desires. The talk in the newspapers about cabinet-making is mere speculation. The final decision rests with the President.

John Hamill asks what tundra is. It is a long fibrous white moss (Cladonia rangiferina) which is the natural food of the reindeer. It grows to its greatest perfection in northern and central Alaska, but is found in South Greenland and Lapland. In Alaska there is a vast tract of land—400,000 square miles, it is said—covered with this moss. Why you see it mentioned just now is because there is a project to grow great herds of reindeer on this vast tract; it is good for nothing else. The reindeer, slaughtered, frozen, and shipped to San Francisco and Liverpool, command high prices as venison. The skins, tanned, are of a soft texture and serviceable color, admirable for book-bindings and furniture-covers, and the hair is the best possible filling for buoys to be used in a life-saving apparatus, as it possesses a wonderful degree of buoyancy. It is said, you know, of the hog slaughter at Chicago and Kansas City that there is nothing wasted save the squeal. Everything else being used to advantage, the horns of the reindeer make the best glue of commerce. The project is to turn this moss to profit by feeding it to reindeer, as corn is fed to hogs in the West, and marketed as pork.

"Liberia." Liberia is a republic modelled after our own. It was founded by some enthusiastic philanthropists who thought the colored people of our southern States could be induced to go back to Africa where their ancestors, as slaves and against their wills, came from. Before our civil war some went. Since then none have. The experiment was a failure, and Liberia is not prospering greatly. Have we any readers living on the Isle of Man? We fear not. Does any reader know any one living there? Ralph Carr, living at 1041 Santa Fé Street, Atchison, Kansas, says his father came from there, and he desires to hunt up, if possible, some facts about the island and his father's birth-place. This is an interesting and profitable thing to do. If any member can help him, please do so.

[Pg 327]

> Any questions in regard to photograph matters will be willingly answered by the Editor of this column, and we should be glad to hear from any of our club who can make helpful suggestions.

### HANDY APPARATUS FOR THE DARK-ROOM.

One of the latest conveniences for the dark-room is a developing-tray so arranged that a plate may be examined during development without taking it from the tray. The tray is made with a solid glass bottom and wooden sides, with a reservoir at one end for holding the developer while examining the plate. When the tray is lifted the solution runs down into this reservoir. Another tray, made on the same principle, is of solid glass, and a piece of glass extends about a third of the way across the top of the tray, making a reservoir for the developing solution during the examination of the plate. There are small knobs on the bottom of the tray to prevent the plate adhering to the bottom by suction. A 5-by-8 tray with glass bottom and wooden sides costs $1.20. The solid glass, same size, costs $1.25.

Rubber Finger-Tips.—Rubber finger-tips are among the "must haves" of the photographer. They are made specially for use in handling photographic chemicals, are a perfect protection for the fingers, and prevent the discoloration of the nails and ends of the fingers from the various solutions used in photography. They are very thin, and fit closely to the fingers, and do not impair the sense of touch in any great degree. A set of three costs 15c., and their use prevents any danger of poisoning when handling dangerous chemicals.

A Handy Plate-Lifter.—A most convenient plate-lifter is a metal finger-shield, very much the shape of an open-top thimble. It has a sharp piece of steel attached to one side, and extending about half an inch beyond the end of the shield. To use, the shield is placed on the first finger, the pointed piece of metal slipped under the negative, raising it from the solution. It can then be taken out without having put the fingers in the solution. This little lifter costs 15c.

Glass Rods.—For stirring solutions one should have a small glass rod, especially when making solutions for sensitizing paper. The nitrate-of-silver solution should never come in contact with any metal. In sensitizing paper, where it is floated on the silver bath, it is quite necessary to have a glass rod to lay across the top of the tray, to draw the paper over when turning, or removing from the bath. This helps to spread the solution evenly and removes the superfluous liquid. A hollow glass tube designed for this purpose has one end flattened to prevent its turning when laid on the tray. The price is 25c.; a glass stirring-rod costs 8c.

Photographic Chemical Tablets.—One can buy, put up in the form of compressed tablets, all or nearly all the chemicals used in developing and printing. These tablets are warranted not to alter or change by age or climate, all that is necessary to preserve them being to cork the bottles immediately after taking out what is required for use. Each bottle of tablets is labelled with full directions for use, and the photographer who wishes to develop his pictures while away on an outing will find them very convenient. They take up but little room, and all that is necessary is the addition of a little water when needed. The price of a complete outfit for developing and toning a large quantity of pictures is $3.

> Sir Knight Robert Guest, Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, asks if taking money prizes in photographic contests makes one a professional photographer, and if one can sell his pictures and still remain an amateur. Taking prizes in competitions does not class one with the professional photographers, nor does selling prints make one a professional. By a professional is understood one who makes a business of photography, either in opening a gallery for portraits or in devoting himself to making pictures of all sorts of commercial articles, photographs of buildings, interiors, etc. An amateur is one who does this work for pastime, taking pay occasionally for his work, but not making it a business. We should like to have Sir Robert send us some views of Yarmouth and vicinity for reproduction in our Camera Club column.

> Sir Knight Herbert H. Pease asks where bromide and platinum paper can be bought, and which is the best; the price, and if it can be developed with eikonogen developer, and fixed with hypo the same as plates; if it is best to mount damp or dry; if the answer to Sir William Merritt that the contest closed December 15 was a mistake; and if one stands a better chance of winning a prize if he does not use the glossy papers for printing. Bromide or platinum paper may be bought of any dealer in photographic supplies; both papers are good, the bromide being the easiest for the experimenter; bromide may be developed with eikonogen and fixed in the same way as a plate, but before the print is fixed it must be flowed with a bath made of acetic acid, 1 dr., and water, 32 oz., according to the directions which accompany the paper; 4-by-5 bromide paper costs 25c. a dozen. The date December 15 for close of contest was a mistake. There is but one competition, and it closes February 15. All pictures are judged according to their merits, without regard to printing processes. The platinum and bromide pictures are the more artistic, and mechanical finish is one of the points on which pictures are marked.

## ADVERTISEMENTS.

## Postage Stamps, &c.

## 50% com. STAMPS on APPROVAL. 50% com.

Best sheets and lowest prices. Send for some at once.

100 varieties, 1c. to 5c., only 15 cts.

40 varieties France, only 20 cts.

1000 mixed stamps, only 15 cts.

#### P. G. BEALS, Brookline, Mass.

60 dif. U.S. $1,100 dif. Foreign 8c., 125 dif. Canadian, Natal, etc. 25c., 150 dif. Cape Verde, O. F. States, etc. 50c. Agents wanted. 50 p.c. com. List free. F. W. Miller, 904 Olive St., St. Louis, Mo.

ALBUM AND LIST FREE! Also 100 all diff. Venezuela, Bolivia, etc., only 10c. Agts. wanted at 50% Com. C. A. Stegmann, 5941 Cote Brilliant Ave., St. Louis, Mo.

## 500

Mixed, Australian, etc., 10c.; 105 var. Zululand, etc., and album, 10c.; 12 Africa, 10c.; 15 Asia, 10c. Bargain list free.

#### F. P. VINCENT, Chatham, N.Y.

## 60%

disc. on sheets. References required. 100 var. 8c.; 150 Hungary, etc., 10c.; 250 var., 50c. Watches, etc., given free. 2c. stamp for particulars.

#### L. F. PIERCE, Center Sandwich, N.H.

## TRY

our 10-cent stamp packets and 25-cent approval sheets.

#### The Keutgen Stamp Co., 102 Fulton Street, New York.

AGENTS WANTED—50% com. Send references. Lists free.

#### J. T. Starr Stamp Co., Coldwater, Mich.

## 118

Foreign Stamps, Bolivia, Costa Rica, Deccan, etc. 6c. H. L. ASHFIELD, 767 Prospect Av., N.Y.

## 1000

Best Stamp Hinges only 5. Agts. wt'd at 50%. List free.

#### L. B. DOVER & CO., 5958 Theodosia, St. Louis, Mo.

## Arnold

## Constable & Co

### Cotton Dress Fabrics.

### FRÈRES KOECHLIN'S

#### Printed Organdies.

Fancy Batiste, Stripe Gazine,

French Welts and Piqué,

Printed Nainsooks and Dimities,

Embroidered Swiss.

### DAVID & JOHN ANDERSON'S

#### Zephyrs and Zephyrines.

Checks, Stripes, and Fancy Plaids in

novel effects.

#### Broadway & 19th st.

#### NEW YORK.

## EARN A BICYCLE!

We wish to introduce our Teas, Spices, and Baking Powder. Sell 75 lbs. to earn a Bicycle; 50 lbs. for a Waltham Gold Watch and Chain; 25 lbs. for a Solid Silver Watch and Chain; 10 lbs. for a beautiful Gold Ring; 50 lbs. for a Decorated Dinner Set. Express prepaid if cash is sent with order. Send your full address on postal for Catalogue and Order Blank to Dept. I

#### W. G. BAKER, Springfield, Mass.

## JOSEPH GILLOTT'S

### STEEL PENS

#### Nos. 303, 404, 170, 604 E.F., 601 E.F.

And other styles to suit all hands.

### THE MOST PERFECT OF PENS.

## LAUGHING CAMERA, 10c.

MY! OH MY!!

The latest Invention in Cameras. You look through the lens and your stout friends will look like living skeletons, your thin friends like Dime Museum fat men, horses like giraffes and in fact everything appears as though you were living in another world. Each camera contains two strong lenses in neatly finished leatherette case. The latest mirth-maker on the market; creates bushels of sport. Catalogue of 1,000 novelties and sample camera 10c., 3 for 25c., 12 for 90c. mailed postpaid. Agents wanted.

#### ROBT H. INGERSOLL & BRO.,

#### Dept. No. 62, 65 Cortlandt St., N.Y.

## HOOPING

## COUGH

## CROUP

Can be cured

by using

### ROCHE'S HERBAL

### EMBROCATION

The celebrated and effectual English cure, without internal medicine. W. Edward & Son, Props., London, Eng. All Druggists.

#### E. FOUGERA & CO., New York.

## HARPER & BROTHERS'

Descriptive list of their publications, with portraits of authors, will be sent by mail to any address on receipt of ten cents.

#### HARPER & BROTHERS, Publishers, New York.

## CARDS

FOR 1897. 50 Sample Styles AND LIST OF 400 PREMIUM ARTICLES FREE. HAVERFIELD PUB CO., CADIZ, OHIO

[Pg 328]

### RAPHAEL UP TO DATE.

"Yo' see dem chilluns a-leanin' on de fence?
Dey's putty near clean gone los' deir sense.
Some leddy done tell 'em dey look like cupids,
But I jes' 'low dey's two little stupids."

### FOREIGN NEWS.

In foreign lands the doings of royalty, the state of mind and body of the reigning sovereigns and their families, form always an interesting feature of the daily news for the public. It is no uncommon thing to see in an English newspaper that "yesterday her Majesty the Queen walked out accompanied by Princess This or That"; or that "in the afternoon her Majesty drove from Windsor to Some-other-Place-on-the-Squeegee, attended by Lady Somebody and the Duchess of Nothingmuch." All of this forms a staple of news for the British, and it is a custom which prevails in all lands where there are royal families. The height of absurdity in this direction, however, is reached in Turkey, if the subjoined item, taken from a French journal, is correct. It is as follows: "Turkish papers take a deeper interest in the health of the Sultan than is to be found in the periodical press of other countries. Quite recently a Turkish organ gravely inserted the following lines:

"'His Majesty slightly indisposed, having been bitten last night by a gnat.'"

### ONE GOOD REASON.

Mrs. Warmheart. "My good man, why do you let your children go barefoot?"

Pat O'Hoolihan. "For de raison, ma'am, dat I have in my family more feet dan shoes."

### THE CHILDREN'S MUSICAL.

The children were discussing a possible musical entertainment for charity.

"We can't make it pay," said Jennie. "Why, I heard mamma say these singers get five hundred dollars for an afternoon!"

"Bosh! Nonsense!" said Polly. "I know a hand-organ man that'll play for an hour for twenty-five cents, and throw in a monkey!"

"Bah!" sneered Willie. "You'll never amount to a hill of beans as a man."

"I know I won't," said Bobbie, meekly. "I ain't even a bean now; but I'll tell you what I am going to be."

"What's that?"

"A man," said Bobbie.

There are many geniuses and inventors hard at work to-day on devices for saving time and money, and one might say that daily the product of their thought is placed before the world in machines that seem almost human in their workings. The chief essential in saving time is to acquire a system, and operators placed before a new mechanical invention quickly establish a systematic method of working it, and eventually find a way of improving on it. These men seldom profit by such little improvements, but their adopted systems suggest valuable ideas to the outsider, upon which he realizes. This is evidenced by the following:

Years ago, in the cotton-mills, the bobbins of the looms used to catch the filaments of cotton and clog the machinery, necessitating a stoppage of the works to clean up. This was a loss of both time and money. One man, however, a seemingly dull fellow, found a way to keep his bobbin free, and his loom never had to shut down. The owner of the mills, one Mr. Peel, father of Sir Robert Peel, noticed this, and obtained from the man his secret for an agreement which financially, amounted to next to nothing. He simply chalked the bobbin, thus preventing the threads from sticking. Peel adopted the idea, and invented machinery for the sole purpose of chalking the bobbins, and patented it. He realized a fortune from it, and gave the original inventor a handsome pension.

### A HICKORY CLUB—POSSIBLY.

"We're getting up a club at our school."

"What for?"

"To hit the janitor with!"

### DONALD'S DRUM.

The reason I like my small red drum
In snowy winter and rosy June,
Is because, no matter how I pound,
I never can hammer it out of tune.

### POLLY GETS MAD.

"Your pa don't make any money," said Wilbur, scornfully, to Polly.

"No, he don't; but I tell you one thing, Wilbur Jones, he earns a lot!"

### WHAT HE GOT.

"What did your papa get on Christmas, Billy?"

"Mad!" said Billy.

### THE STRANGER'S MISTAKE.

"Well, little chap," said the stranger in the family, picking up one of the children, "what are you going to be when you're a man?"

"Nuffin'," said the child.

"Nothing? Why so?" asked the stranger.

"Because," said the child, "I'm only a little girl."

### HOW SHE KNEW.

"Do you think your mamma loves you, Polly?" asked Polly's mother, hugging the little girl up tight.

"Yeth I do," said Polly. "I knows it."

"I am so glad. And how do you know it, Polly?"

"'Cause I'm your doll," said Polly.

### HIS EXPLANATION.

"Why do you behave so, Jimmie?"

"It's all pa's fault," said Jimmie. "When I grow up I want to be able to tell my boys what I did when I was little—the way papa does."

### FOOTNOTES:

[1] I have purposely left out mentioning these names in this story for reasons.—J. H.

    End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, January 26, 1897, by Various

    *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S ROUND TABLE, JAN 26, 1897 ***

    ***** This file should be named 60509-h.htm or 60509-h.zip *****
    This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
            http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/5/0/60509/

    Produced by Annie R. McGuire
    Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
    be renamed.

    Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
    law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
    so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
    States without permission and without paying copyright
    royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
    of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
    Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
    concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
    and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive
    specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this
    eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook
    for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports,
    performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given
    away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks
    not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the
    trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.

    START: FULL LICENSE

    THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
    PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

    To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
    distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
    (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
    Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
    Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
    www.gutenberg.org/license.

    Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
    Gutenberg-tm electronic works

    1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
    electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
    and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
    (trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
    the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
    destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
    possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
    Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
    by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
    person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
    1.E.8.

    1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
    used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
    agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
    things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
    even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
    paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
    Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
    agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
    electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

    1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
    Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
    of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
    works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
    States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
    United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
    claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
    displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
    all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
    that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
    free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
    works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
    Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
    comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
    same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
    you share it without charge with others.

    1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
    what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
    in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
    check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
    agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
    distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
    other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
    representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
    country outside the United States.

    1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

    1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
    immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
    prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
    on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
    phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
    performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
      most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
      restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
      under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
      eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
      United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you
      are located before using this ebook.

    1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
    derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
    contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
    copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
    the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
    redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
    Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
    either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
    obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
    trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

    1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
    with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
    must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
    additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
    will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
    posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
    beginning of this work.

    1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
    License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
    work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.

    1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
    electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
    prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
    active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
    Gutenberg-tm License.

    1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
    compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
    any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
    to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
    other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
    version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site
    (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
    to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
    of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
    Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
    full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

    1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
    performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
    unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

    1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
    access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
    provided that

    * You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
      the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
      you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
      to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
      agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
      Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
      within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
      legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
      payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
      Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
      Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
      Literary Archive Foundation."

    * You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
      you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
      does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
      License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
      copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
      all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
      works.

    * You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
      any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
      electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
      receipt of the work.

    * You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
      distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.

    1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
    Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
    are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
    from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The
    Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm
    trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

    1.F.

    1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
    effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
    works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
    Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
    electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
    contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
    or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
    intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
    other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
    cannot be read by your equipment.

    1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
    of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
    Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
    Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
    Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
    liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
    fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
    LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
    PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
    TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
    LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
    INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
    DAMAGE.

    1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
    defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
    receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
    written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
    received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
    with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
    with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
    lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
    or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
    opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
    the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
    without further opportunities to fix the problem.

    1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
    in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
    OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
    LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

    1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
    warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
    damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
    violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
    agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
    limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
    unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
    remaining provisions.

    1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
    trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
    providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
    accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
    production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
    electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
    including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
    the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
    or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
    additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
    Defect you cause.

    Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm

    Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
    electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
    computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
    exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
    from people in all walks of life.

    Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
    assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
    goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
    remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
    Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
    and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
    generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
    Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
    Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
    www.gutenberg.org

    Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

    The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
    501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
    state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
    Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
    number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
    Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
    U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.

    The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the
    mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its
    volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous
    locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt
    Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to
    date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and
    official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

    For additional contact information:

        Dr. Gregory B. Newby
        Chief Executive and Director
        gbnewby@pglaf.org

    Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
    Literary Archive Foundation

    Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
    spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
    increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
    freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
    array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
    ($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
    status with the IRS.

    The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
    charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
    States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
    considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
    with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
    where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
    DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
    state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate

    While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
    have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
    against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
    approach us with offers to donate.

    International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
    any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
    outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

    Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
    methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
    ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
    donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate

    Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works.

    Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
    Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
    freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
    distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
    volunteer support.

    Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
    editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
    the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
    necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
    edition.

    Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search
    facility: www.gutenberg.org

    This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
    including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
    Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
    subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.