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Project Gutenberg's Harper's Young People, April 13, 1880, by Various

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Title: Harper's Young People, April 13, 1880
       An Illustrated Weekly

Author: Various

Release Date: May 12, 2009 [EBook #28778]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, APR 13, 1880 ***




Produced by Annie McGuire








[Illustration: HARPER'S

YOUNG PEOPLE

AN ILLUSTRATED WEEKLY.]

       *       *       *       *       *

VOL. I.--NO. 24. PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK. PRICE FOUR
CENTS.

Tuesday, April 13, 1880. Copyright, 1880, by HARPER & BROTHERS. $1.50
per Year, in Advance.

       *       *       *       *       *




[Illustration: MISS NANCY TAKES LEAVE OF THE OFFICERS.]

NANCY HANSON'S PROJECT.

BY HOWARD PYLE.


It was in the old Quaker town of Wilmington, Delaware, and it was the
evening of the day on which the battle of Brandywine had been fought.
The country people were coming into town in sledges, and in heavy low
carts with solid wheels made of slices from great tree trunks, loaded
with butter, eggs, milk, and vegetables; for the following day was
market-day. Market-day came every Fourth-day (Wednesday) and every
Seventh-day (Saturday). Then the carts drew up in a long line in Market
Street, with their tail-boards to the sidewalk, and the farmers sold
their produce to the town people, who jostled each other as they walked
up and down in front of the market carts--a custom of street markets
still carried on in Wilmington.

Friend William Stapler stopped, on his way to market in his cart, at
Elizabeth Hanson's house, in Shipley Street, to leave a dozen eggs and
two pounds of butter, as he did each Tuesday and Friday evening.
Elizabeth came to the door with a basket for half a peck of potatoes.
William Stapler took off his broad-brimmed hat, and slowly rubbed his
horny hand over his short-cut, stubbly gray hair.

"Ah! I tell thee, Lizabeth, they're a-doin' great things up above
Chadd's Ford. I hearn th' canning a-boomin' away all day to-day. Ah,
Lizabeth, the world's people is a wicked people. They spare not the
brother's blood when th' Adam is aroused within them. They stan' in
slippery places, Lizabeth."

"Does thee think they're fighting, William?"

"Truly I think they are. Ah! I tell thee, Lizabeth, they're differen' 'n
when I was young. Then we only feared the Injuns, 'n' now it's white men
agin white men. They tuck eight young turkeys of mine, 'n' only paid me
ten shillin' fer 'em."

"But, oh, William, I do hope they're not fighting! I expect my
son-in-law, Captain William Bellach, and his friend Colonel Tilton, will
stop here on their way to join General Washington; and they may arrive
to-night."

"Ah, Lizabeth, I've lifted up my voice in testimony agin the young men
goin' to the wars an' sheddin' blood. 'F a man diggeth a pit an' falleth
into it himself, who shall help him out thereof? Half a peck o'
potatoes, did thee say, Lizabeth?"

       *       *       *       *       *

During the evening rumors became more exciting, and it was said that the
Americans had been defeated, and were retreating toward Philadelphia.
Late that night Captain Bellach and Colonel Tilton arrived at Elizabeth
Hanson's house.

"I've heard the rumors, mother," said Captain Bellach. "I don't believe
'em; but even if there was a file of British at the door here, I would
be too tired to run away from them."

Pretty Nancy Hanson spoke up. "But, Billy, they would not only send thee
and thy friend to the hulks if they caught thee, but they might be rude
to us women were they to find thee here."

"Yes, sister-in-law, if I thought there was any danger, I would leave
instantly; but the British, even if they have beaten us, will be too
tired to come here to-night."

"I agree with my friend Will, Mistress Nancy," said Colonel Tilton.
"Moreover, our horses are too tired to take us farther to-night."

About two o'clock in the morning the silence of the deserted streets of
the town was broken by a rattling and jingling of steel, the heavy,
measured tread of feet, and sharp commands given in a low voice.

Nancy Hanson awakened at the noise, and jumping out of bed, ran to the
window and looked out into the moon-lit street beneath. A file of
red-coated soldiers were moving by toward the old Bull's Head Tavern.
The cold moonlight glistened on their gun-barrels and bayonets as they
marched. Nancy ran to her mother's room and pounded vigorously on the
door.

"Mother! mother! waken up!" she cried; "the British are come to town,
sure enough!"

The family were soon gathered around the dull light of a candle, the
gentlemen too hastily awakened to have their hair _en queue_, the ladies
in short gowns and petticoats; Elizabeth Hanson wore a great starched
night-cap perched high upon her head.

"You were right, sister-in-law," said Captain Bellach, "and I was wrong.
The best thing we can do now is to march out and take our chances."

"So say I," assented the Colonel.

"It's all well enough for thee, Billy, to talk of marching out and
taking thy chances," said Nancy; "thee has thy black citizen's dress;
but Colonel Tilton is in uniform."

"True; I forgot."

"It does not matter," said the Colonel.

"Yes, but it does," cried Nancy. "Stay now until morning, and I think I
can get thee citizen's clothes. I have a project, too, to get thee off.
For mother's sake, though, we must hide thy uniform, for if it is found
here, she will be held responsible. Billy, thee will have to go with thy
friend back to the bedroom and bring us his things as soon as he can
take them off. Thee must lie abed, Colonel Tilton."

Nancy's plans were carried into execution. The bricks in one of the
up-stairs fire-places were taken up, the sand beneath them removed, and
the Colonel's uniform deposited in the vacant place, over which the
bricks were carefully replaced.

       *       *       *       *       *

In the gray of the morning Peggy Allison and Hannah Shallcross, on their
way to market, each with a basket on her arm, met in front of Elizabeth
Hanson's house. A company of soldiers had halted in Shipley Street, and
their arms were stacked before Elizabeth's door. The red-coated soldiers
were lounging and talking and smoking. Some officers sat around a fire
near by warming their hands, for the morning was chill.

"'Tis a shame!" said Hannah Shallcross, vigorously--"'tis a shame to see
these redcoats parading our streets as bold as a brass farthing. I only
wish I was John Stedham the constable; I'd have 'em in the
Smoke-House[1] or the stocks in a jiffy, I tell thee!"

She spoke loudly and sharply. A young British officer, who was passing,
stepped briskly up, and tapped her on the arm.

"Madam," said he, "do you know that you are all prisoners? Be advised by
me, and return quietly home until the town is in order."

However patriotic Hannah might be, she did not think it advisable to
disregard this order, and both dames retreated in a flutter. As the
young officer stood looking after them, the house door opposite him
opened, and Nancy Hanson appeared upon the door-step. She had dressed
herself carefully in her fine quilted petticoat and best flowered
over-dress, and looked as pretty and fresh as an April morning.

"Friend," said she, in a half-doubtful, half-timid voice. The young
officer whipped off his cocked hat, and bent stiffly, as you might bend
a jackknife.

"Madam, yer servant," he answered. He spoke with a slight brogue, for he
was an Irish gentleman.

"We have a friend with us," said Nancy, "who hath been compelled for a
time to keep his bed. He was brought here last night on account of the
battle, and was too weary to go further. Our neighbor Friend John
Stapler, across the street, hath thick stockings, and I desire to get,
if I can, a pair from him, as, thee may know, in cases of dropsy the
legs are always cold. I am afraid to cross the street with these
soldiers in it. Would thee escort me?"

"Madam, you do me infinite honor in desiring me escort," said the young
officer, bowing more deeply than before; for Nancy was very pretty.

Friend John Stapler was a very strict Friend, and as such was inclined
to favor the royalist side; still, he was willing to do a kindly turn
for a neighbor. He was a wrinkled, weazened little man, whose face, with
its pointed nose and yellowish color, much resembled a hickory nut.

"Hum-m-m!" ejaculated he, when Nancy, who had left the officer at the
door, stated the case to him--"hum-m-m! thus it is that intercourse with
the world's people defileth the chosen. Still, I may as well help thee
out o' the pother. Hum-m-m! I suppose my small-clothes would hardly be
large enough, would they?" and he looked down at his withered little
legs.

"I hardly think so," said Nancy, repressing a smile, as she pictured to
herself the tall dignified Colonel in little John Stapler's
small-clothes.

"Well, well," said he, "I'll just step out the back way, and borrow a
suit from John Benson. He's the fattest man I know."

He soon returned with the borrowed clothes, which they wrapped up in as
small a bundle as possible, after which Nancy rejoined the officer at
the door.

"'Tis a largish bundle of stockings," observed he, as he escorted her
across the street again.

"They are thick stockings," she answered, demurely.

When they reached home, she invited her escort and his brother officers,
who were gathered around the fire near by, to come in and take a cup of
coffee--an offer they were only too glad to accept, after their night
march.

"Gentlemen," said Nancy, as they sat or stood around drinking their hot
coffee, "I suppose you have no desire to retain our afflicted friend a
prisoner? The doctor, who is with him at present, thinks it might
benefit him to be removed to the country. I spoke to my friend whom I
saw this morning, and he promised to send a coach. May he depart
peaceably when the coach comes?"

"Faith," said the young Irish officer, "he may depart. He shall not be
molested. I command here at present."

"What is the matter with the invalid?" inquired another officer.

"He appeareth to have the dropsy," answered Nancy, gravely.

In about half an hour an old-fashioned coach, as large as a small
dwelling-house, and raised high from the ground on great wheels,
lumbered up to the door. The steps were let down, or unfolded, until
they made a kind of step-ladder, by which the passenger ascended to the
coach which loomed above. The door stuck, in consequence of being
swelled by the late rains, and was with difficulty opened. The officers
stood around, waiting the appearance of the invalid, and the young
Irishman who had been Nancy's escort waited at the door to help her in,
for she was to accompany her afflicted relative to the ferry.

The house door opened, and she appeared, bearing a pillow and blanket to
make the sick man comfortable. She arranged these, and stepped back into
the house to see him moved. Then, with a shuffling of feet, the
pretended victim of dropsy appeared, dressed in plain clothes, and so
enormously puffed out that there was scarcely room for him in the
passageway. The so-called doctor, dressed in black, and wearing a pair
of black glass spectacles, assisted the invalid on one side, and Nancy
supported him on the other. The dropsical one groaned at every step, and
groaned louder than ever as they pushed, squeezed, and crowded him up
the steps and into the coach. Nancy and the doctor followed, and the
Irish officer put up the steps and clapped to the door, while Nancy
smiled a farewell through the window to him as the great coach rumbled
away toward the Christiana River.

"Oddzooks!" exclaimed one of the officers, "that is the fattest Quaker I
ever saw."

He would have been surprised if he had seen the fat Quaker draw a stout
pillow from under his waistcoat after the coach had moved away, while
the doctor stripped some black court-plaster from the back of his
spectacles, and instead of the invalid and the physician appeared two
decidedly military-looking gentlemen.

The coach and its occupants had lumbered out of sight for some time, and
the young officer still remained lounging near the door of Mistress
Hanson's house, when an orderly, splashed with mud from galloping over
yesterday's battle-field, clattered up to the group.

"Which is Major Fortescue?" he asked, in his sharp military voice.

"I am," answered the young Irish officer.

"Order for you, sir;" and he reached the Major a folded paper, sealed
with a blotch of wax as red as blood. He opened it, and read:

     "You will immediately arrest two men, officers in the rebel army,
     known respectively as Colonel Tilton and Captain Bellach.
     Information has been lodged at head-quarters that they are now
     lying concealed at Mistress Elizabeth Hanson's in Wilmington town.
     You will report answer at once. By order of

  Colonel ROBERT WYCHERLY, R. A.,
  Com. 5th Div. H. M. A.
  in the Province of Pennsylvania.

  To Major ALLAN FORTESCUE,
  Commander at Wilmington,
  in the Lower County of Newcastle."[2]

"Stop them!" roared Major Fortescue, as soon as he could catch his
breath. He gave a sharp order to the soldiers lounging near; they seized
their arms, and the whole party started at double quick for the ford of
the Christiana River, half a mile away, whither the coach had directed
its course.

       *       *       *       *       *

Meanwhile the fugitives had arrived at the bank of the river, where they
found that the ferryman was at the other side, and his boat with him. He
was lying on the stern seat, in the sun, and an empty whiskey bottle
beside him sufficiently denoted the reason of his inertia. When the
Colonel called to him, he answered in endearing terms, but moved not;
and when the officer swore, the ferryman reproved him solemnly. Affairs
were looking gloomy, when Captain Bellach, who had been running up and
down the embankment that kept the river from overflowing the marsh-lands
that lay between it and the hill on which the town stood, gave a shout
which called the Colonel and Nancy to him. They found that he had
discovered an old scow half hidden among the reeds; it was stuck fast in
the mud, and it was only by great exertions that the two gentlemen
pushed it off the ooze into the water. The Colonel then took Nancy in
his arms, and carried her across the muddy shore to the boat, where he
deposited her; then pushing off the scow, he leaped aboard himself.

"Lackaday for my new silk petticoat, all spotted and ruined!" cried
Nancy. "I'd rather have been taken prisoner at once!" And she looked
down ruefully upon the specks of blue marsh mud that had been splashed
upon that garment.

Neither of the men answered. The boat leaked very badly when it was
fairly out in the water, and the Colonel was forced to bail it out with
his hat. The Captain sat in the middle of the boat, paddling it with a
piece of board. His hat had blown off, and his black silk small-clothes
were covered with mud. The tide was running strongly, and as the boat
drifted down the stream, it was swung round and round in spite of the
Captain's efforts to keep it straight, while the leak gained on them,
until Nancy, with a sigh, was compelled to take her best beaver hat,
ribbons and all, and help the Colonel bail.

They were scarcely more than half across when Major Fortescue and his
squad of soldiers dashed up to the bank. They ran along the embankment,
keeping pace with the boat as it drifted with the tide.

"Halt!" cried the officer; but no one in the boat answered. "Halt, or I
shoot!" But Captain Bellach only paddled the harder.

"Make ready! Take aim!--"

"Down, for your life!" cried Colonel Tilton, sharply, dragging Nancy
down into the bottom of the boat, where Captain Bellach flung himself
beside them. It was the work of a moment. The next instant--"Fire!" they
heard the royalist order, sharply, from the bank.

"Cra-a-a-ack!" rattled the muskets, and the bullets hummed venomously
around the boat like a swarm of angry hornets.

None of the fugitives were hurt, though two of the bullets struck the
side of the boat; but Nancy's petticoat was entirely ruined by the mud
and water in the bottom. Before the redcoats could reload, they had
reached the further shore, and run into a corn field near by, in which
they were entirely hidden. Captain Bellach wanted to go up the stream
and thrash the drunken ferryman; but the Colonel and Nancy dissuaded
him, and they made the best of their way to Dover, which they reached
after a very weary journey. There Nancy, who considered it safer to
absent herself from home while the British retained possession of
Wilmington, found herself the heroine of the hour; and she was fêted and
dined and made much of, until it would have completely turned a less
sensible little head than hers.

In after-years, when her husband presented her to President Washington,
"Ah, Mistress Tilton," said his Excellency, "your husband should indeed
value an affection that not only endangered a life, but even sacrificed
a fine silk petticoat, for his sake."


FOOTNOTES:

[1] The Smoke-House was a small stone structure something like a
sentry-box, only with an iron door and grated windows. In this negroes,
petty criminals, vagrants, and drunkards were confined. It stood at the
junction of the two most important streets of the town.

[2] Newcastle County, Delaware, formerly a portion of Penn's Proprietary
Government in the Americas.




[Begun in No. 19 of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, March 9.]

ACROSS THE OCEAN; OR, A BOY'S FIRST VOYAGE.

A True Story.

BY J. O. DAVIDSON.


CHAPTER VI.

AN OCEAN PRAIRIE.

Frank found his new work tolerably easy, though it required constant
attention, for every joint of the machinery had to be watched, and oiled
afresh the moment it began to get dry and hot. There being two other
oilers, he now stood his regular watch of three hours at a time, having
the rest of the day to himself. Most of this leisure time was spent in
talking with Herrick, or studying the ins and outs of the machinery; and
Frank soon learned to "take a card" as well as any man on board. This is
done as follows: a slip of paper is rolled round a brass tube attached
to the valve of the engine cylinder, and a pencil fixed so as to trace
certain curved lines on the paper as it turns, the shape of which shows
the exact working condition of the engine.

On the fourth afternoon of his new duties Austin heard himself hailed
from the upper deck by a familiar voice:

"Hello, Frank, my boy! come up and have a look at Daddy Neptune's
pasture-ground."

Up went Frank with all speed; but his first glance around made him
start. Instead of the deep blue water that had surrounded her a few
hours before, the ship was now in the midst of a smooth green plain,
extending as far as the eye could reach, and covered, to all appearance,
with coarse grass and broad-leaved plants. Nothing was wanting, in fact,
to complete the picture except a few sheep and cattle.

[Illustration: IN THE SARGASSO SEA.]

For a moment our hero really thought he must be dreaming; and then he
suddenly recollected his school-book pictures and stories of the famous
Sargasso Sea, where, for thousands of acres together, the water is quite
hidden by a thick growth of "Gulf weed," and knew at once that this must
be it.

And certainly this ocean prairie was a wonderful sight. As the steamer
ploughed its way through the matted weeds, Frank could see in the narrow
openings their trailing roots hanging far down into the clear cool
depths below. Above these open spaces thousands of sea-birds were
hovering with shrill cries, while ever and anon one of them would swoop
down into the water, re-appearing instantly with a fish wriggling in its
beak.

In the purple shadow of the weed beds bright-colored fish were moving
lazily to and fro, but these darted swiftly away at the approach of the
steamer. On every side queer little crabs and turtles were plumping into
the water, scared by the plashing wheels, while, stranger still, birds'
nests and eggs were seen here and there amid the huge broad leaves of
the stronger plants, to the great delight of Frank, who thought the idea
of birds nesting in the middle of the Atlantic the finest joke he had
ever heard.

A mass of the tangle was hauled on board, and the men amused themselves
by stamping on the hollow air-cells which give the weed its buoyancy,
producing a series of cracks like the explosion of fire-crackers.

"I've heerd tell, though I can't say I've seen it myself," observed a
sailor, "as there's places whar them weeds are so thick and strong that
a man can walk on 'em all the same as dry land."

"Well, they can stop a ship, anyhow, whether they can carry a man or
not. A chum of mine as v'y'ged here in a Portigee steamer told me that
she once got reg'lar jammed among the weed, and only 'scaped by
reversin' her en_gines_."

"Well, it's a fact that some whar in these seas there's a place they
call the Lumber Yard, 'cause of all the driftwood and floatin' spars and
bits o' wreck and sich gittin' jumbled up together; for all the currents
sort o' meet there, like them puzzles whar every road leads in and none
out. If a ship once gits in _there_, good-by to her; for there ain't no
wind, nor tide, nor nothin', and you jist stick there till you rot."

Here old Herrick muttered, dreamily, as if speaking to himself, "_I_'ve
seen that, and I sha'n't forget it in a hurry."

The men nudged each other, and there was a general silence; for it was
but seldom that Herrick could be got to spin a yarn, and he was now
evidently about to "get off" one of his best.

"I was cruising in these waters," he went on, "'bout twenty years ago,
when one afternoon we sighted a sort o' mound in among the thickest of
the weed, with somethin' like a ship's mast standin' up from it. The
'old man' came out to look at it, and then gave orders to lower the
boat, and we pulled for the wreck with a will. But as we neared her, the
very look of her seemed to strike cold upon us all. Her hull had such an
old-fashioned build that it might ha' been afloat for a hundred years
and more; and all up the sides and over the deck great slimy coils of
weed had trailed, like them eight-armed squids that clutch men and drag
'em down. As we came nigher, the very sun clouded over, and all was
chill, and gray, and dismal, and the wreck itself looked so unearthly,
with no sign or sound of life about it, that I guess I wasn't the only
one who felt queer when we ran alongside at last.

"Up we scrambled, our very tread soundin' hollow and uncanny in that
awful silence. Not a livin' thing was there aboard, not even a mouse.
The mainmast was gone, all but a stump, and the moulderin' tackle lay on
the deck all of a heap. The plankin' was rotten and fallin' to bits, and
the place on the starn where her name had been was clean mouldered away.
All at once our coxswain, Bill Grimes, gives a jump and a holler as if
he'd trod on a rattlesnake; and when we ran for'ard, what should we see,
half hid among the weeds, but the skeleton of a man, fastened to the
bulwarks by a rusty chain!"

The speaker ceased, and looked round the attentive circle with the air
of a man who feels that he has made a hit.

"A slaver, I reckon," said one, at length.

"Or a pirate."

"Or some craft that had got starved out."

"Ay; but how cum that skeleton there? Did _you_ never find out nothin'
'bout her, old hoss?"

"_Never_," said the old man, solemnly. "That's how many a gallant ship
has ended--just a mark of 'missing' opposite her name in the owner's
list, and a few poor souls watchin' and waitin' for them that'll never
come back. Ay, boys; for as bright and pretty as these waters look,
there's many a black story hid aneath 'em as'll never be known till the
day when the sea shall give up its dead."

       *       *       *       *       *

They were now east of the Azores, and within four days' run of
Gibraltar, which was their first halting-place. So the men were set to
work to scrub the deck, polish the rails, new paint the boats, mend such
of the signal flags as were torn, and "smarten" up the vessel generally;
for a sea-captain is as proud of his ship as a lands-man of his wife,
and likes to bring her into port as trim as possible.

Frank, always ready to be of use, took his share of the work, though he
had plenty to occupy him without it. He was never tired of watching the
sun make rainbows in the spray of the bow, and the pretty little
sea-fairies, called by sailors "Portuguese men-of-war," float past with
their tinted shells and outspread feelers; while at night the moon was
so gloriously brilliant, and the sea so clear and smooth, that he often
staid on deck till midnight to enjoy the spectacle. But another sight
was in store for him, even more to his taste than these.

One evening, just before sunset, two sail (the first for several days)
were descried by the look-out, quite close to each other. Herrick, after
eying them keenly for a moment, pronounced them to be a British steamer
and a full-rigged American clipper ship.

"How on earth can you tell that?" asked the wondering Frank, who could
see nothing of the strangers but their topmasts.

"Easy enough. That un's a steamer, by her smoke; and she's a Britisher,
by the _look_ o' the smoke, for they mostly burn soft coal. T'other's a
clipper, by her rig, and the lot o' handkerchiefs [studding sails] she
has aloft; and she's a 'Merican, for nothin' else could hold its own
with a steamer. But what can they be doin' so close together? Ah! _I_'ve
got it--they're a-_racin_'."

[Illustration: AN OCEAN RACE.]

When the two vessels came near enough to be signaled, and to reply,
Herrick was found to be right in every particular, and the excitement
aboard the _Arizona_ rose to a height. The captain himself came out to
watch the race, and every man who was not on duty below hastened on
deck.

"See how Johnny Bull's a-pilin' the coal on!" cried old Herrick,
pointing to the eddying smoke, which grew blacker every minute. "But he
don't whip _that_ craft--not much! Canvas agin tea-kettles any day!
Hooray!"

"Right you air, old hoss! Guess some o' them clippers can show as good a
record as any steamer afloat. Why, didn't the old _Nabob_ run 7389 miles
in thirty days out thar in the Indian Ocean?--and that's 246 miles a day
for a whole month, anyhow."

The two racers were now crossing the _Arizona_'s bows, and every one
crowded forward to look at them. The steamer's passengers were seen
clustered along the side like bees, while the crew were bustling to and
fro, setting every sail that would draw. But still on the starboard
quarter hung the beautiful clipper, gliding along smoothly and easily,
one great pyramid of snow-white canvas from gunwale to truck, while the
look-out and the two men at the wheel (the only persons visible on
board) grinned from ear to ear at the "Britisher's" vain efforts. Just
as the clipper passed, the Stars and Stripes fluttered out jauntily at
her peak.

"Come, boys!" cried Herrick; "let's give the old 'gridiron' a cheer."

Mingling with the hearty shout that followed (in which Frank joined with
a will) came three sharp blasts from the _Arizona_'s steam-whistle, by
way of salute. Instantly the clipper's crew sprang up from behind the
bulwarks, and, waving their caps, sent back a rousing cheer, answered by
the Englishman with a short whistle of defiance as he swept by.

Little by little the racers, still close together, melted into the
fast-falling shadows of night; but there were not a few who declared
that, when last seen, the clipper was getting the best of it, and their
belief in the superiority of wind over steam was greatly strengthened
thereby.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]




APRIL'S TEARS.


  April's tears are happy tears.
    Joy when the arbutus sweet
    Creeps about her dancing feet,
  When the violet appears,
  When the birds begin to sing,
    When the grass begins to grow,
    Makes her lovely eyes o'erflow.
  She's a tender-hearted thing,
  Bonny daughter of the spring.




BILLY'S GREAT SPEECH.

BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.


Billy was the youngest member of the debating society; that is, the
other members were all grown-up men, though none of them were very old,
and he was not yet quite fourteen years of age. Some of the boys he knew
told him he had been let in by mistake, and some said it was a joke; but
there he was, week after week, every Friday evening, sitting on a front
bench, and as much a member as the president, or the secretary, or
either of the three vice-presidents.

One of the names of that village debating society was "The Lyceum," but
it wasn't much used, except when they had distinguished strangers to
lecture for them, and charged twenty-five cents apiece for tickets.

The regular weekly debates were "free," and so there was always a good
attendance. The ladies, of all ages, were sure to come, and a good many
of the boys. Billy never missed a debate; but he had not yet made so
much as one single solitary speech on any subject. Nobody knew how often
he had entered that hall with a big speech in him, all ready, or how he
had always carried it out again unspoken.

A little after the Christmas and New-Years' holidays there was a
question proposed for the society to debate that Billy was sure he could
handle. It had something to do with the Constitution of the United
States, and Grandfather Morton said it "was too political altogether";
but Billy silently determined that at last he would make himself heard.
He read several things in order to get his mind ready, especially the
_Life of Benjamin Franklin_ and _Captain Cook's Voyages_.

He could not see just how they helped him, but he knew that was the way
to do it. Then he practiced his speech, too, in the garret, and up in
the pasture lot, and out in the barn, where he was sure nobody could
hear him, and the night before the debate was to be he hardly slept a
wink.

He knew Grandfather Morton and all the family would be there; and they
had scared him out of making more than half a dozen speeches before, but
he made up his mind not to be afraid of them this time. Speak he would!

He was careful about his dress, as every public speaker should be, and
succeeded in borrowing one of his father's standing collars. It was
dreadfully stiff with starch, but it would not hurt his ears if he held
his head straight.

When he got to the Lyceum Hall it seemed to him to have grown a good
deal since the week before, and to have a greater multitude of men and
women in it than he had ever dreamed of.

It was warm, too, and grew warmer very fast, and he wondered why the
rest did not take off their overcoats. Perhaps they would have done so
if they had known Billy was going to address them.

He knew who was to open the debate on both sides, for that was always
arranged beforehand, and his chance would come afterward.

He listened to them, and could not help thinking how much better they
must feel when their speeches were all spoken. He knew very well what a
troublesome thing a speech was to keep in, and without any cork.

Billy thought he had never known men to talk so long as they did--two
young lawyers, three young doctors, the tutor of the village academy,
the sub-editor of the _Weekly Bugle_, Squire Toms's son that was almost
ready to go to college, and the tall young man with red hair who had
just opened the new drug store.

That was the man who did Billy the most harm, for his argument was
nothing in the wide world but a string of quotations from Daniel
Webster. He called him the Great Expounder, and a great statesman, and a
number of other names, and wound up by asserting that the opinion of
such a great man as that settled the matter. There was a good deal of
applause given to the red-headed young man as he was sitting down, and
Billy took advantage of it; that is, before he knew exactly what he was
doing, he was on his feet, and shouted, "Mr. President!--ladies and
gentlemen--"

"Mr. Morton has the floor," remarked the president, very dignifiedly;
and Billy, as he afterward said of himself, "was pinned."

There was no escape for him now, and when Grandfather Morton pounded
with his cane, and shouted, "Platform!" dozens of other people took it
up, and it was "Platform!" "Platform!" "Platform!" all over the hall. He
knew what it meant. All the favorite speakers were sent forward in that
way, and it was a great compliment; but Billy thought he must have
walked forty miles, from the tired feeling in his legs, when he got
there. Oh, how hot that room was just then, and what a dreadful thing it
was to have a crowd like that suddenly begin to keep still! They must
have been holding their breaths.

Billy knew his speech was in him, for it had been swelling and swelling
while the others were speaking, but he could not quite get any of it
very close to his mouth at that trying moment.

Stiller and stiller grew the hall, and Billy had a dim notion that it
was beginning to turn around.

"Mr. President, ladies, and gentlemen--"

He heard some of the boys over by the window crack some pea-nuts and
giggle.

"--I don't care a cent for Daniel Webster--"

Billy paused, and was hunting desperately for the next word; but
Grandfather Morton had voted against Mr. Webster a good many times, and
down came the old gentleman's cane on the floor.

That was the signal for a storm of applause all over the hall; but Billy
groped in every corner of his mind in vain for the rest of his speech.
Whether he had left it in the garret or the barn, or up in the pasture
lot, it was gone; and when the stamping and clapping stopped, and the
audience began to listen again, there was nothing more for them to hear.

It was so terribly hot in that hall; and it grew all the more like the
Fourth of July, or a baker's oven, all the way to his seat, after Billy
gave the matter up, and walked down from the platform.

But how they did cheer then!

The boys did their best, and even the ladies seemed to be shouting.

"Did I say anything so good as all that?" thought Billy.

But at the end of the debate, which came very soon after Billy's effort,
Grandfather Morton shook hands with him very proudly; and it was the
president of the society--and he had been a member of the
Legislature--who came up just then, and said,

"Capital speech of yours, Mr. Morton. Best thing of the evening."

"Good, wasn't it?" said Billy's grandfather. "Laid that red-headed
poison peddler as flat as a pancake."

"Best speech I ever heard in this hall, Mr. Morton; it was so splendidly
short."

But Billy kept thinking, all the way home, "What would he have said if I
hadn't forgot the rest of it?"

That was years ago, and Billy is a great lawyer now; but he says he has
never forgotten what it was that made his first speech so very good.




THE CZAR'S FISH.

BY DAVID KER.


One fine July morning, a few years ago, there was a great stir among the
villagers of Pavlovo, on the Lower Volga, for the news had got abroad
that the Czar was coming down the river, on his way to his Summer Palace
in the Crimea. So, of course, every one was on the look-out for him; for
the Russian peasants of the Volga are a very loyal set, and many old men
and women among them, who have never been out of their native village
before, will tramp for miles over those great, bare, dusty plains on the
chance of catching a passing glimpse of "Alexander Nikolaievitch"
(Alexander the son of Nicholas), as they call the Czar.

Among those who talked over the great news most eagerly were the family
of an old fisherman, who was known as "Lucky Michael," on account of his
success in catching the finest fish, although hard work and experience
had probably much more to do with it than any "luck."

But of late "Lucky Michael" had been very _un_lucky indeed. His wife had
been ill, to begin with; and one of his two sons (who helped him with
his fishing) had been disabled for several weeks by a bad hurt in his
arm. Moreover, his boat was getting so crazy and worn out that it seemed
wonderful how it kept afloat at all; but the news of the Czar's coming
seemed to comfort him for everything.

"If Father Alexander Nikolaievitch would only give us money enough to
buy a new boat!" said old Praskovia, Michael's wife, as she put away
what was left of the huge black loaf that had served for breakfast; "but
I suppose it wouldn't do to ask him."

"Of course not!" said Michael, who was an independent old fellow; "he's
done quite enough for us already, in making us freemen, when we were all
slaves before.[3] Now, then, let's get to work. Come, Stepan [Stephen],
come, Ivan [John], and let us see what God will send us."

But at first the luck seemed to be still against them, for they drew
their net twice without catching anything. The third time, however, the
net felt unusually heavy, and there was such a tugging and kicking
inside of it that it was plain they had caught a pretty big fish of some
kind. John, who was the first to look in, gave a loud hurrah, and
shouted, "Father! father!--a sturgeon! a sturgeon!"

There, sure enough, lay the great fish amid a crowd of smaller ones, in
all the pride of its spiky back, and smooth, brown, scaleless skin. All
three rejoiced at the sight, for a sturgeon will always fetch a good
price in Russia, and the two lads began to think at once how far this
would go toward paying for a new boat.

They fished some time longer, and made one or two pretty good hauls; but
the sturgeon was the great event of the day. John and Stephen wrapped it
up carefully, and were quite proud to show it to their mother on getting
home; but they looked rather blank at hearing their father say, in a way
which showed that he meant it,

"This is the finest fish I've ever caught, and I won't sell it to any
one. It's a Czar among fish, just like Alexander Nikolaievitch among us;
so it shall be _his_ fish, and I'll give it to him as he passes."

The news of Michael's fish, and of what he meant to do with it, soon
spread through the village, and created considerable excitement. But
there was not much time to talk it over, for, two days later, young
Stephen, who had been sent to look out for the Czar's steamer, came
running to say that it was in sight. So Michael put his sturgeon into
the boat, and away they pulled. It was a hard pull against that strong
current, but at last they got near enough to hail the steamer and be
taken in tow.

Up went Michael, fish and all, and the captain led him aft to where the
Czar and his officers were standing. Many of them were handsome,
stalwart men, all ablaze with lace and embroidery; but the old
fisherman, with his tall, upright figure, clear bright eye, and hale old
face framed in snow-white hair, looked, despite his rough dress, as fine
a man as any of them.

"See here, father," said he, "this is the finest fish I ever caught, and
so I've kept it for _you_. I want nothing for it; take it as a free
gift."

"Thank you, brother," said the Czar; "it's a royal fish, indeed, and
I'll have it for dinner this very day, and drink your health over it.
What's your name?"

"Michael Ribakoff, father, from the village of Pavlovo."

"Good--I won't forget you. Good-by!"

When the villagers heard what had happened, they all thought Michael
rather a fool for giving his fish away, when the Czar would have paid a
good price for it. But a week later came a fine new fishing-boat for
"Michael Ribakoff," in the stern locker of which were a complete suit of
fisherman's clothes and a new net, with a piece of paper inscribed, in
the Czar's own handwriting, "_A midsummer gift from Alexander
Nikolaievitch._" And old Michael always said that he valued the paper
far more than the boat.


FOOTNOTES:

[3] Here Michael must be corrected. Of the forty-nine millions of
Russian peasants, only twenty-three millions were actually serfs.




THE HERMIT AND THE ROBBERS.


A gentle hermit, one day, proceeding on his way through a vast forest,
chanced to discover a large cave nearly hidden under-ground. Being much
fatigued, he entered to repose himself awhile; and observing something
shining in the distance, he approached, and found it was a heap of gold.
At the sight he turned away, and hastening through the forest again as
fast as possible, had the misfortune to fall into the hands of three
fierce robbers. They asked from whom he fled, and he answered, "I am
flying from Death, who is urging me sorely behind."

The robbers, not perceiving any one, cried out, "Show us where he is."
The hermit replied, "Follow me," and proceeded toward the grotto. He
there pointed out to them the fatal place, beseeching them at the same
time to abstain from looking at it. But the thieves, seizing upon the
treasure, began to rejoice exceedingly. They afterward permitted the
good man to proceed on his way, amusing themselves by ridiculing his
strange conduct. At length they began to consider what they should do
with the gold. One of them observed, "We ought not to leave the place
without taking this treasure with us."

"No," replied another, "we had better not do so; but let one of us take
a small portion, and set out to buy wine and meat in the city, besides
many other things we are in need of;" and to this the other two
consented.

Now the evil spirit, which is always busy on these occasions, directly
began to tempt the robber who was to go into the city. "As soon,"
whispered the bad spirit to him, "as I shall have reached the city, I
will eat and drink of the best of everything as much as I please, and
then purchase what I want. Afterward I will mix with the food intended
for my companions something which I trust will settle their account,
thus becoming sole master of the whole of the treasure, which will make
me one of the richest men in this part of the world;" and as he purposed
to do, so he did.

He carried the poisoned food to his companions, who, on their part,
while he had been away, had come to the conclusion of killing him on his
return, in order that they might divide the money among themselves,
saying, "Let us fall upon him the moment he comes, and afterward eat
what he has brought, and divide the money between us in much larger
shares than before."

The robber who had been into the city now returned with the articles he
had bought, and was immediately killed. The others then began to feast
upon the provisions prepared for them, and were seized with violent
pains, and soon died. In this manner all three fell victims to each
other's avarice and cruelty, without obtaining their ill-gotten wealth.




[Illustration: CARNIVOROUS OCEAN PLANTS.]

ANIMAL-PLANTS.


The aquarium presents a field for delightful and ever-varying study, as
its inhabitants belong to the most curious and interesting of ocean and
fresh-water creatures. Fishes alone are well worthy of close
observation; and when to these are added odd little reptiles, queer
shell-fish, and different classes of the wonderful zoophytes, an
aquarium presents a constantly changing picture of the marvels of ocean
life.

The zoophytes are the most remarkable of all marine creatures. The name
zoophyte comes from two Greek words--_zoön_, an animal, and _phyton_, a
plant--and therefore has the literal signification of animal-plant.

An important member of the zoophyte family, and one often introduced
into aquaria, is the actinia, or sea-anemone, sometimes called sea-rose.
Sea-anemones were for a long time considered as vegetables, beautiful
and gayly colored flowers of the ocean, and only comparatively recent
investigation has discovered them to be animals, and blood-thirsty,
voracious little robbers and murderers of the worst character.

One of the most common among the many varieties of sea-anemones is the
_Actinia mesembryanthemum_. The polypus-hunter who finds this living
flower clinging to sea-coast rocks, and bears it home as an addition to
his aquarium, unless he is already acquainted with the nature of his
prize, will behold with astonishment and delight the wondrous variations
in the appearance of this little creature. Clinging to the rocks, the
anemone probably appeared like a round leathery bag drawn in at the
centre; but when placed on the miniature cliffs of the aquarium, a
wondrous transformation takes place. The bag gradually expands, a mouth
appears in the centre, and from it unfold a multitude of petals of a
variety of colors--pale scarlet, blood-red, orange, and white--which
wave gently back and forth like a graceful nodding flower. Now drop a
small earth-worm or tiny fish in the water. The instant it touches the
least of these petal-like tentacles the whole flower is in commotion,
all the arms reaching toward the struggling victim, and holding it in a
grasp so firm that escape is impossible, and it is soon drawn into the
capacious and hungry stomach. Every animated thing that comes within
reach of the tentacles of the anemone is mercilessly seized and
devoured. Even small mollusks and Crustacea are unable to resist the
power of the grasping threads, and crabs are often conquered and
swallowed by this voracious living flower. For this reason sea-anemones
are dangerous inhabitants of an aquarium stocked with creatures having
the power of locomotion, and are best placed in a tank with other
zoophytes like themselves. How often they eat when free in their natural
element is unknown, but weekly feeding is said to be sufficient to
sustain them in an aquarium. Small bits of meat are acceptable food,
which can be dropped into the water. The instant a descending morsel
touches the petals, or tentacles, of a hungry anemone, it is eagerly
seized and drawn into the open, greedy mouth. The _Actinia
mesembryanthemum_ is a very long-lived creature, and certain specimens
are reported to have lived over twenty years in aquaria in England.

There are many varieties of sea-anemones, and although all possess the
same distinguishing characteristics, they vary in the form and color of
the open flower. The _Actinia gemmacia_, which is like a gorgeous
sunflower, is said to be the most voracious of its kind. An English
naturalist describes a specimen which swallowed a shell as large as a
saucer, its own diameter not being over two inches. Its elastic stomach
extended sufficiently to receive this enormous prey; but as the shell
completely separated the upper half of the animal from the lower, a new
mouth began immediately to form, through which to convey nourishment to
the lower portion, thus presenting the curious spectacle of a
double-headed monster in miniature. So remarkable are the anemones in
their reproductive power, that if the tentacles are injured or broken
off, new ones immediately form, and if the animal be cut in two, new
mouths form, and soon two perfect animals are waving their graceful
tentacles to and fro in the water.

The locomotive power of the anemone, or actinia, is very sluggish. It
will remain days and weeks in the same spot, and it moves only by
sliding one edge of its base very slowly along the object to which it is
fastened, and drawing the other after it. It can therefore never pursue
its food, and appears to have no sense except that of touch, as a worm
or shiner may float in the water all about the anemone without causing
it the slightest agitation; but if the tiniest tip of one of its
tentacles be touched, or brushed even, the whole creature is alive in an
instant, and grasping for its prey. In the centre of the illustration
are two specimens of this animal-plant, the wondrous flesh-eating flower
of the ocean. To the left may be seen a specimen of the _Eledone
moschata_--a small and very common member of the octopus family. The
eledone is a hideous-looking beast. Its small eyes, which it can open
and shut at will, are glistening, and of changing iris. Its long arms
are strong enough to grasp a mussel shell, and hold it firmly until its
contents are devoured. At the least touch a dark color instantly appears
spread over the whole body of this curious creature, and dark prickly
spines arise, which impart a stinging sensation when handled, like the
anemone and sea-nettle.

The two odd-looking things in the background of the engraving are
specimens of the limulus, or arrow-tailed crab. The upper side of the
limulus is covered with two smooth overlapping shields, in which are two
tiny eyes. Armed with six pairs of nippers, the limulus often fights its
companions in the aquarium, and boldly engages in battle with the
eledone, which, with its long arms, is more than a match for the
pugilistic crab, whose retreat and utter discomfiture generally end the
battle, for, thrown on its back, it can with difficulty right itself. If
a limulus and eledone be confined in the same tank, almost daily must
the former be rescued from the arms of the latter.

The palm-like creature to the right of the picture is a _Spirographis_,
or tube-worm. This savage little beast lives in a tube formed of
particles of lime or grains of sand, and stretches its gill-like threads
upward, in search of food, in the form of a spiral wreath. It is very
sensitive, and at the least touch on the surface of the water, or on the
walls of the tank, the threads are instantly withdrawn into the tube.

In the background may be seen the waving, bell-like _Medusa aurita_,
armed with prickly threads. It belongs to the jelly-fish family, and
loves to lie near the surface of the water, but it is with great
difficulty kept alive in an aquarium. When it dies, it dissolves itself
into the watery element of which it is so largely composed, and its
fairy-like skin can scarcely be discovered in the tank.




[Illustration: A VISIT TO THE OLD HOME.]




EASY BOTANY.

APRIL.


Now it is April, and the time has come to explore the woods and wilds.

Let us hasten to welcome the first blossom, so delicate and yet daring
to face the uncertain sky of early spring.

Happy are they who live in the country, who have the freedom of rural
roads, rocky banks, wooded hills, and smiling meadows! The young
botanical student can not expect to become acquainted with all the wild
plants in his vicinity in one summer, nor is this desirable; the pursuit
will last for a lifetime, becoming more and more enchanting. But every
one can make a pretty collection; and if, in addition to studying out
the flowers, and keeping an accurate list of them, and pressing some of
the most interesting, the young student will learn to draw with pen or
pencil a few of the most simple and graceful, the pleasure will be
greatly increased. A great deal of information might be given on
botanical subjects, but in this brief article little more can be done
than to mention the names of those plants which may be looked for during
the month, and the localities they choose. Most of the flowers mentioned
are found from Maine to Florida, and West and South as well, though some
that are abundant in the Middle estates and on Western prairies avoid
the chills of New England. The wild flowers delight in the
semi-seclusion of pastures and meadows, and spring up along the lines of
old fences in fields and on the hills and in the dim woods.

Among the earliest come the anemones, and one of the prettiest of these
is the _wood-anemone_, or wind-flower. It grows from six to eight inches
high, beside old stumps in the moist woodlands; the stem is smooth, and
on the top nods a single flower, drooping, graceful, softly white, and
shaded on the outside with pinkish-purple. Another of the same family,
the _rue-anemone_, has a central blossom, pretty large, which is
surrounded by a row of little buds and blossoms, which has given it the
name of hen-and-chickens.

[Illustration: HEPATICA.]

Another delightful April flower is the _hepatica_, growing sometimes in
New England woods, but abundantly in the Middle States. This charming
little plant is fond of the loveliest shades of deepest blue, fading
into the palest purple and white, and on the Orange mountains, in New
Jersey, are clumps of the most beautiful rose-color. The hepatica grows
finely if transplanted.

[Illustration: DRABA VERNA.]

Do not fail to find the snow-white bud of the _bloodroot_, which comes
up wrapped in a charming little green cloak, and also the smallest of
all the floral tribe, the _Draba verna_, with atoms of white flowers,
and stems only an inch or two high. Some plants that may be easily found
are:

  Wood-anemone, margins of fields; New England.
  Rue-anemone, same localities; New England.
  Hepatica, woody hill-sides; Middle States.
  Bloodroot, rich open woods; New England.
  Blue violet, fields, meadows, hills; everywhere.
  Draba verna, sandy fields and road-sides.
  Spring beauty, moist open woods; New Jersey, South.
  Wild geranium, open woods and fields; New England.
  Erigenia, damp soil; New York, Pennsylvania.
  Quaker ladies, road-sides, fields; everywhere.
  Dandelion, road-sides, fields; everywhere.
  Azalea, New England woods and elsewhere.
  Benzoin--spice-bush--damp woods; New Jersey, Pennsylvania.
  American mistletoe, New Jersey and South.




TWO ANCIENT FAMILIES.

A PAPER READ BEFORE THE "LITTLE LITERATI" BY MOTHER.


I fear I appear before you but illy prepared for the evening duties, as,
mother-like, my week has been full of cares--unusually so. Being left to
choose my own subject, I thought to speak briefly of a worthy but almost
extinct family, or, indeed, I should say two families.

Many grown persons persist in declaring that the families have passed
entirely out of existence, but I find there are a few of them to be
found still on the rugged mountain-sides, on the plains, and down in the
deep green valleys. Little children know them best, as they seem to be
modest, retiring families, seldom or never intruding themselves on the
notice of others. I conjecture, from the freedom with which little
children use their names, that they must be a kindly, simple people. My
little Mary, or Minnie, tells me almost every day of little Johnnie He
or little Sallie She, and in my mind's eye I see little Johnnie He
coming through his father's gate on his way to school--a plump,
rosy-cheeked little fellow in white pants and blouse.

  Most amiable and fair he looks,
    That little Johnnie He,
  While following close behind his heels
    Is little Sallie She.
  With flaxen curls and laughing eyes,
    This little girl we greet,
  Exclaim, "How fair is Johnnie He!
    And Sallie She, how sweet!"

Very little is known of the ancestors of these simple people who dwell
among the hills. It is believed they were a worthy, renowned family in
their day and generation; but, alas! history has given us all too little
of them. It is known that they were born hundreds of years ago, living
bright and useful lives in the earliest ages of civilization. History
speaks freely of one who may have been the great-great-grandfather of
the present Hes (much less is known of the Shes), and while speaking of
him forgets not to take his travelling artist along to sketch him. This
noble ancestor is Mr. Zaccheus He, and he is in the act of performing
the feat that saves his name from utter oblivion. The deed is made
doubly impressive by the travelling artist sketching the same. The poet
too lends his sublime aid to render the act one never to be forgotten.
In the present age of the world, many parents, from some deep-seated
prejudice, strive to blot out this unpretending family entirely; but
little children with tearful eyes bring the Historian, the Artist, and
the Poet at once to the rescue, exclaiming, "Then why does the book say,

  "Zaccheus He
  Did climb the tree?'"




CHIN-FAN, THE CANTON BOAT-BOY.

BY THOMAS W. KNOX.


How many readers of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE are aware that in China, on
the other side of the world, there are thousands and thousands of boys
and girls that live in boats? There is a great city in China called
Canton, and at this city there is a river which is so crowded with boats
that it is not easy to get around among them. They are not large boats
like the great steamers on American rivers, and they do not have
comfortable rooms where you can sleep as well as in a bed on shore. Some
of them are so small that they can only hold three or four persons, and
there is no space for walking around; but these three or four must live
there from day to day and from week to week, and if they ever go on
shore at all, it is only for a few minutes at a time. A whole family
will often be found living on a boat which we would hardly think large
enough to cross in from one side of the Hudson River to the other. They
cook and eat and sleep on the boat, and they manage to earn a little
money by carrying passengers over the river, or doing other work. The
kitchen where they do their cooking is only a little heap of coals that
a man might put in his hat, and it rests on a box of sand about a foot
square. When there are any passengers on board, they sit under an awning
in the front part of the boat, and the children are kept in a sort of
well, like a dry-goods box, near the stern, but at other times they can
run or creep about the deck. The smaller children are secured by means
of cords tied around their waists, so as to save them in case they fall
overboard. Sometimes the cord that holds a baby is fastened to the side
of the boat, and sometimes it is tied to a stick of wood that serves as
a float to keep him from sinking. The latter mode is generally
preferred, as the baby has more freedom, and can drag himself along the
deck where he likes. It is very common to see infants crawling around in
this way, and it is surprising how soon they learn to keep out of
danger. A Chinese child has only to fall overboard once or twice to make
up his mind to keep away from the side of the boat as much as possible.

One day a baby was creeping around the deck of one of these Canton
boats, and wondering how he should amuse himself. He looked over the
side, and as the sun was shining, and reflecting his face in the water,
he thought he discovered a new baby that would be a nice playmate for
him. His mother was in the forward part of the boat, and busy at the
oars, and his father was working on a ship that lay in the harbor. So
this baby, whose name was Chin-Fan, was quite alone, and could do as he
pleased. He felt lonesome, and when he saw the strange child in the
water, he smiled at him, and wanted to make his acquaintance. The
strange baby smiled in reply; and then Chin-Fan held out his chubby
little hand to lift him out of the water. Of course the other one held
up a hand to meet him, but he could not reach far enough. Then Chin-Fan
reached down, while the stranger reached up, and pretty soon Chin-Fan
lost his balance, and tumbled into the water.

Wasn't he in a dangerous place? His mother did not know what had
happened, and she kept on rowing the boat right away from where the poor
little fellow was struggling and trying to keep from being drowned. An
American baby would have screamed and sunk, but Chin-Fan was not
American, and so he did nothing of the sort. He dropped all thoughts of
the strange baby, and considered nobody but himself; he managed to get
hold of the billet of wood to which his cord was fastened, and by
holding on firmly he kept his head out of water. The current of the
river carried him along, and very luckily it carried him to where a ship
was anchored, with her great cable sloping down the stream. He struck
against this cable, and as he did so, he let go of the billet, so that
it went one side of the cable, while Chin-Fan went the other. Then he
took hold of the cable with both his chubby hands, and next he screamed
as loud as his little lungs would let him.

A sailor on the bow of the ship heard the scream, and was not long in
finding that it came from the cable. Chin-Fan kept it up until he was
rescued, and just about the time he was taken on board the ship he was
missed by his mother. She came paddling down the river in search of him,
and shouted to everybody she met that her baby was missing. The sailor
held little Chin-Fan up so that she could see him, and in a very short
time he was back in his place on the deck of the boat.

For a good while after that incident Chin-Fan kept at a respectful
distance from the side of the boat, and he did not show any desire to
make the acquaintance of strange babies in the water. His mother taught
him how to swim, and he became a boatman at Canton, and afterward he was
a sailor on one of the great steamers that run between San Francisco and
China. He did a great many brave things in and on the water, and his
mother was very proud of him; she said she always knew he would be a
famous sailor, when he showed so much good sense and coolness at the
time of his first plunge.




THE STORY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON.

BY EDWARD CARY.


CHAPTER I.

One hundred and fifty years ago a sturdy, hard-working farmer lived near
the southern bank of the Potomac River, in what was then the English
colony of Virginia. On the 22d day of February, 1732, a son was born in
the modest farm-house, who afterward came to be the most famous, and one
of the noblest, of Americans. His name was George Washington. He grew up
a healthy, hardy boy, quiet in his ways, fond of study, and still more
fond of out-door sport. His playmates loved him because he was fair and
generous, and looked up to him as a leader, because he had a way of
doing what he set out to do.

George's father died when he was only eleven years old, but his mother
proved a good care-taker for him. She was a bright-minded woman, gentle
but firm, and George always loved her dearly.

At the age of seventeen he began to earn his own living as a surveyor.
It was no light work in those days, for the country where he had most to
do was in the backwoods. Many a day he trudged through the forest from
dawn to sunset, and lay down at night with nothing but a blanket between
him and the stormy sky. But he was faithful and careful, and got plenty
of work.

[Illustration: BIRTH-PLACE OF WASHINGTON.]

From early boyhood Washington had a strong liking for a soldier's life.
He used to train his school-mates as soldiers, was an eager student of
drill and tactics, expert in the use of the sword, and a skillful
horseman. At that time the Indians swarmed through the forest in the
back country, and were often urged on by the French (who claimed the
Ohio and Mississippi valleys as their own) to attack the whites. So the
colony of Virginia had to keep a good many men under arms to protect the
homes and the lives of the people. When Washington was about twenty-two
years old he became a Major in this little army, and devoted a great
deal of time and hard work to training his men.

In 1755 the French and Indians became so troublesome that quite a large
army was sent over from England to clear the borders of them. General
Braddock was at their head, and he asked Washington to go with him, with
the rank of Colonel, as one of his aides; that is, to be always with
him, and help him with advice, or in carrying orders, and in any way he
could. The gallant young officer was glad to go. The English General did
not know much about fighting in the woods, and his slow and stately
march toward the Ohio did not suit Washington's ideas, for he knew that
nothing could be done against the French unless it was done swiftly.

When the army neared the French fort, at what is now Pittsburgh,
Washington, who was on his back in an ambulance, sick with fever,
insisted on going to the front, for he knew there would soon be
fighting, and hard fighting, too. The fighting began before it was
looked for. The British troops crossed the Monongahela River, and
marched up a wooded hollow toward the French fort. As they swept up the
hollow in close ranks, with gay red uniforms and gleaming arms, there
suddenly blazed upon them, from unseen guns on every side, a murderous
fire, before which they shrank quickly back. Startled, but not cowed,
their officers rallied them again and again; but they could not see the
enemies whose fire was mowing them down, and they slowly and in great
disorder tried to get back across the river.

General Braddock was mortally wounded. More than half the army were
killed or wounded. Colonel Washington behaved "with the greatest courage
and resolution." He rode from point to point carrying orders, and seemed
reckless of death. "I had four bullets through my coat," he wrote to his
brother, "and two horses shot under me, yet I escaped unhurt, although
death was levelling my companions on every side of me."

Fifteen years later an old Indian, who was in the fight on the French
side, told him that he had fired at him many times, and ordered his
young warriors to do so. None of the shots hit, and the Indians,
thinking the young officer was under the special care of the Great
Spirit, ceased to fire at him.

After this battle, Colonel Washington was kept in bed for four long
months with a fever, which was made worse by his exposure on the
battle-field. He had little more hard fighting to do, but he learned
many a good lesson from the war--especially to rely on himself, and to
study his own way out of any troubles that he met. His fame went, too,
to the other colonies, and the young Colonel of Militia was becoming
known as a man on whose courage and faithfulness and sound good sense it
would do for his country to lean in time of trial.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]




PUCK AND BLOSSOM.

From the German of Marie Von Olfers.


PART I.

Once upon a time Puck and his little sister Blossom lived together in a
great big egg.

"It's too close in here," said Puck: "let's go and see how it looks
outside." Bang! went his head, right through the wall.

[Illustration]

Outside it was raining, so he drew back his head in a hurry; but the
rain came pattering in after him. "Oh, my doodness!" moaned Blossom, "is
_that_ how it is outside? Now we shall det wet to the skin."

"Come," said Puck, "let's go find us another house; it'll be better
by-and-by."

[Illustration]

So they went, and they went, till they came to old Mother Bee, who lived
with her children in the leafy house of the linden-tree.

[Illustration]

"Oh, come in," said she; "but you must sit quite still, or else my
children will sting you. As for me, I must go and gather honey."

[Illustration]

For a little while they sat quite still. "Sister Blossom," said Puck,
"it's too close in here. I must go see where they keep the honey." He
was starting off that very minute, but all the Bee children flew up in
such a rage, and fastened themselves upon Puck and Blossom, that they
got away, they hardly knew how.

"I didn't even det a taste of their old honey, and I'm all stung up,"
sobbed Blossom.

"Never mind," said Puck, comfortingly, "it'll be better by-and-by."

On the meadow whom should they meet but Master Stork. "Oh, take us with
you up to your nest!" cried Puck. Master Longlegs, being quite willing,
quickly snatched up the children in his long bill, and set them down in
his nest.

[Illustration]

"Sit still," said he, "then you'll have plenty of room."

[Illustration]

For a little while they sat quite still. "Sister Blossom," said Puck,
"it's too close in here. I've seen young storks fly. I know how they do
it; I can do it too. Come, now, you do just what I do." He spread his
little arms, she spread her little arms, and--

[Illustration]

Thump!--they lay on the ground.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]




[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.]


  MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN.

     I have subscribed for YOUNG PEOPLE for a year. When I have read
     it, I send it to my cousins in England. We are going there in
     June, to stay at my grandfather's house. I shall be eight years
     old on the 25th of March, and I have been across the ocean six
     times. I will write when I am in England, and tell you about the
     beautiful things I shall see there. Grandma has some rabbits
     waiting for me. There is a pond there, with ducks, and Chinese
     geese, and swans, and all kinds of fowls.

  JOHN MACC.

       *       *       *       *       *

  MUSKOGEE, INDIAN TERRITORY.

     I am nine years old. We live on a hill. There are many hills here
     just like it, and the people here call them mounds. They are
     shaped very queer. They rise straight up on one side. There are
     rocks on some, and on others trees. We have two ponies, and when
     we go hunting, they let me ride on one of them. When they shoot
     anything, I go and bring it back to the buggy.

  EVA S. T.

       *       *       *       *       *

  JEFFERSON BARRACKS, MAINE.

     I am a poor boy. I lived with an officer here, and I was so fond
     of reading the daily papers and other things that his wife kindly
     subscribed for YOUNG PEOPLE for me, and I like it very much. I
     live in the woods, and I caught nineteen wild rabbits this winter
     in traps. I tried to tame some of them, but I could not. I wish
     you would tell me how to tame them.

  JOSEPH D.

Have any of our correspondents had experience in taming wild rabbits?

       *       *       *       *       *

  GRAHAMVILLE, OKLAWAHA RIVER, FLORIDA.

     I am a little boy eight years old, and a subscriber to YOUNG
     PEOPLE. I made the money myself that paid for the subscription. I
     live away down in Florida, and during the winter months I sell
     flowers and curiosities to the Northern visitors. I have made
     twenty dollars this season. I don't go to school now, but my mamma
     and papa teach me at home. I have a handsome scroll-saw, and can
     make nice brackets. I had a shepherd dog, but it died. I want to
     take YOUNG PEOPLE till I am a grown-up man.

  TURNER E.

       *       *       *       *       *

  DAVENPORT, IOWA.

     I want to tell you something about myself. My papa was an
     American. When he was young, he went to Florence, Italy. There he
     met my mamma, who was an Italian lady, and married her. I was born
     in Florence. When I was five years old we moved to Spain. Then I
     learned the Spanish language. Papa taught me to speak English. We
     staid in Spain one year, and then moved to America, and came out
     here. We had not been here long when mamma--poor dear
     mamma!--died. Then papa went back to Italy, and left me with Aunt
     Esther. He died while he was there, and now I am an orphan. I am
     eleven years old, and I can speak and write Italian, French,
     Spanish, and English, and I am studying German now. I want to be
     an artist some day, and go back to Italy, and make my name
     renowned. A friend here gives me YOUNG PEOPLE, and I like it so
     much! Please put some nice pictures in it for me to draw.

  AURORA.

       *       *       *       *       *

  DANVILLE, ILLINOIS.

     Some little girls--my cousins Nellie and Fannie, Clara Hessey,
     Nellie Woods, and Kittie Short--are going to have a cooking club,
     and I wish some other little girls would send some receipts. My
     cousin Nellie sends you a letter too.

  PUSS H.

     Here is a receipt for sugar-candy that some little girl may like
     to try: Two table-spoonfuls vinegar; four table-spoonfuls water;
     six table-spoonfuls sugar (brown is best). Boil twenty minutes,
     and pour into a buttered plate. I think the Spanish Dancer was
     very pretty.

  NELLIE H.

       *       *       *       *       *

  FORT SMITH, ARKANSAS.

     I am a reader of YOUNG PEOPLE. I live on the border of the Indian
     country, and I see plenty of Indians when they come to town to
     trade. I went to the United States jail not long ago, and I saw
     about fifty prisoners. Some of them were white, some Indians, and
     some negroes. They were all together. I felt so sorry for them. I
     am ten years old, and I go to school.

  CARL C. M.

       *       *       *       *       *

  FORT PLAIN, NEW YORK.

     My uncle has come home from India, and brought my brother and
     myself a beautiful bow, quiver, and arrows. The bow and arrows are
     made of black cocoa-nut wood, and have ivory tips. The arrows have
     pointed ends, and colored feathers on the head. The target is
     three feet high, and has an ivory heart in the middle. In the
     centre of the heart there is a hole. We have a club of girls and
     boys, and the one that shoots his arrow in the hole gets a prize.
     The next prize to be given is an upright writing-case. We only
     shoot once a week for the prize, but we can shoot other times as
     much as we wish. Charlie Clark got the prize a month ago. It was a
     pair of skates. We live in Chicago, and are going home in May. We
     are visiting my grandma now.

  PEARL F. S.

       *       *       *       *       *

  FORT WARREN, BOSTON.

     I have a pet Newfoundland dog about three months old. I am
     teaching him to "fetch and carry." He is very intelligent, and
     learns very quickly. Every morning he waits at the door of our
     quarters for my papa, and when papa goes to his office he carries
     his papers for him. He looks so much like a young bear that we
     call him Oso, which is Spanish for bear. I am ten years old, and I
     live on an island in Boston Harbor.

  MARY B. R.

       *       *       *       *       *

  SYRACUSE, NEW YORK.

     I want to tell you about a baby bear I saw yesterday. A man had it
     in a store. He brought it from the North Woods. It was so gentle
     that mamma held it in her hands, and I took hold of its little
     paw. We have two canaries, named Dick and Daisy. Daisy has made
     her nest, and there are two pretty little blue eggs in it. If we
     should have any little birds by-and-by, I will write and tell you
     about them.

  ETHEL M. L. (6 years).

       *       *       *       *       *

  SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA.

     I am nine years old. I found the answer to the Geographical Double
     Acrostic in No. 18. "Sadie," the little girl who made it, is three
     years older than I am, but I have studied geography the last two
     years, and I think I can find out any geographical puzzle she can
     make. Ask her to try again, please.

  MAUD T. K.

       *       *       *       *       *

  MUNICH, GERMANY.

     I am a little girl six years old, and my name is Meta, but my
     sisters call me Peter. My thirteen dolls have all funny names. My
     rubber boy doll is Moses in the Bulrushes. My big rubber doll is
     Pharaoh's Daughter. I live in Germany, and am learning German. I
     hope next year to go back to America, and I shall be glad to see
     all my friends again. I have two gold-fishes, and I feed them with
     fish food. Papa bought me a microscope to look at bugs with. I am
     tired, so I will stop.

  META F.

       *       *       *       *       *

  SALEM, MASSACHUSETTS, _March 25, 1880_.

     I wrote you last November, and told you I was lame, and confined
     to the house. I am in the house still, but better. I have a
     gentleman friend who comes to see me every other day, and last
     week he brought me a plant which he got in the woods, called
     hepatica, and it is now on my window, in bloom. It is sometimes
     called liverwort. [Hepatica is a Latin word, and signifies
     pertaining to the liver.] The willow "pussies" have been out here
     two weeks. As I can not go out and enjoy sports like other boys, I
     amuse myself by reading, and I enjoy HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE and
     WEEKLY very much. I fare pretty well for a sick boy, for I take
     five different periodicals.

  HORACE F. H.

       *       *       *       *       *

  ORANGE, NEW JERSEY.

     I thought some of the young readers might like to hear about our
     alligator. It is about nine inches long, from its tail to its
     nose. It came from Florida last month. We keep it in a tub. It
     would not eat much, but we feed it by tapping it on the nose, and
     putting a small piece of meat on its tongue with a stick.

  J. O. U., JUN.

You would better give your alligator a piece of board to crawl up on,
for it will die if compelled to remain constantly in the water.

       *       *       *       *       *

  MELROSE, MASSACHUSETTS.

     I found a caterpillar when I was going to school one morning last
     fall. When I came back, I brought it home with me. I put it under
     a glass globe, and fed it with milkweed leaves for about a week,
     and then it changed into a large brown butterfly, with black and
     white spots on its wings. We put it on a piece of Brazilian wood,
     such as naturalists use, which a lady gave me. The time to find
     the caterpillars is in July and August. I am trying to keep a
     cabinet. I found willow "pussies" last January. I put the twigs in
     a vase of water, and now they have leaves on them about an inch
     long.

  ARTHUR L. H.

Your caterpillar must have passed some time in the chrysalis state
before it became a butterfly. It is very interesting to watch the
process of transformation from a caterpillar to a chrysalis, and nothing
is prettier than the butterfly or moth creeping out of its cell, and
expanding its wings for the first time.

       *       *       *       *       *

  CHESTER, NEW JERSEY.

     I like YOUNG PEOPLE very much. Although I am only eight years old,
     I can read it all except the hard names you call some of the
     animals and plants. But papa explains them to me. I have a Maltese
     kitty. A short time ago we moved, and I was afraid I would lose
     it. A lady told me to take it to the new house, and rub butter on
     its paws. I did so, and kitty spent hours licking off the butter.
     It kept it busy until it became used to its new home, and
     contented to stay.

  MAMIE B. L.

       *       *       *       *       *

  CONCORD, NEW HAMPSHIRE, _March 22, 1880_.

     We are four children, two boys and two girls, living in rather a
     lonely place, and YOUNG PEOPLE gives us a great deal of pleasure.
     In warm weather we hunt wild flowers and go fishing. There is a
     brook near here, where I have caught a good many nice pickerel. My
     sister has found trailing arbutus buds, which have blossomed in
     the house.

  B. M.

       *       *       *       *       *

  NEW HAVEN, VERMONT.

     I shall be eight years old next August. I have a cat named Pet. I
     have a little saw-horse and a little saw, and I saw kindling wood
     for Grandpa Kent.

  KENT K.

       *       *       *       *       *

  DEER RIVER, NEW YORK.

     I have four brothers, and we have lots of fun. We have three
     lambs, seven rabbits, a pair of peacocks, and guinea-hens, geese,
     doves, ducks, and eleven little pigs. My brother Bert is eleven
     years old, and I am nine.

  DE VERE V.

       *       *       *       *       *

C. V. Hess, No. 440 North Seventh Street, Philadelphia, writes that
L. H. N., of Lockport, Illinois, can obtain collections of minerals by
addressing him as above.

       *       *       *       *       *

  JERSEY CITY, NEW JERSEY.

     I take your paper, and nobody is more happy than I when papa
     brings it home. Just as soon as my sister comes back, we are going
     to get up a sewing society. Do you think it is a good idea?

  "BLUE LIGHT."

If you intend to devote your time to making clothes for poor little
girls like Biddy O'Dolan, your sewing society is an excellent idea, and
we hope you will carry it out. If you stop to look about you, there are
many poor children within your reach whose lives you can make brighter
and more comfortable. You can not realize the good you can do until you
begin, and see the effects of your work.

       *       *       *       *       *

MILLIE B. S.--The fact that you take YOUNG PEOPLE through a news agent
makes no difference whatever. "Wiggles," puzzles, and other favors from
our young readers all receive the same attention, and are equally
welcome.

       *       *       *       *       *

C. H. W.--Ceres, called Demeter by the Greeks, was the goddess of
agriculture. She was pictured by the ancients holding a torch and sheaf
of corn, a basket filled with flowers at her side, and a garland of
wheat ears interwoven in her hair. Her festival fell on the 19th of
April, the beginning of seed-time. There is a pretty legend that
Persephone, the daughter of Ceres, was stolen by Pluto, who allowed her
to leave his subterranean kingdom only during the period between
spring-time and autumn, and that Ceres, enraged at the theft of her
daughter, refused to bless the earth with fruits and flowers during
those months when she was deprived of Persephone. The name Ceres is
derived from the Sanskrit, and signifies to create. Vulcan, whose Greek
name was Hephæstus, was the son of Jupiter and Juno, and the god of
fire. He was lame and ugly, but was worshipped as the patron of all
craftsmen who worked at the forge. He is represented by ancient artists
as a powerful, bearded man clad in a workman's cap and short blouse,
surrounded by smith's tools. His festival fell on the 23d of August,
when the young men of Athens ran torch races in his honor. You can
obtain answers to your other question by inquiring at the rooms of the
Society, corner of Court and Joralemon streets, Brooklyn.

       *       *       *       *       *

HARRY VAN N.--Wheeling is the capital of West Virginia. The _New
Hampshire Gazette_, published at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, is the
oldest paper in the Union which has been continued without interruption
or change of name. It was established by Daniel Fowle in 1756. The
Worcester _Spy_, still in existence, was established in 1770, and there
are several other papers of equal age. The New York _Commercial
Advertiser_ is one of the oldest dailies. It was established in 1793 as
the _Minerva_, but soon assumed its present name. The New York _Evening
Post_ first appeared in November, 1801. You will find a complete
history of American newspapers in Frederic Hudson's _Journalism in the
United States_, published by Harper & Brothers.

       *       *       *       *       *

WILLIE S. W.--There are no rules by which you can train cats. They are
not so easily taught as dogs and birds; still, with patience and
kindness, you may accomplish your purpose.

       *       *       *       *       *

"NORTH STAR."--Your puzzle is very neatly and correctly made; but we can
not use it, as we have recently published one with the same solution. Do
not be discouraged, but try again. The book you inquire for is published
by Henry Holt & Co., and is a very useful little volume.

       *       *       *       *       *

C. W. LISK.--The dauw (_Equus burchellii_) is a South African quadruped,
intermediate between the zebra and the quagga. It is found in numerous
herds in the wide plains north of the Orange River. It is somewhat
larger than the zebra, but more easily domesticated.

       *       *       *       *       *

WILLIE B. A.--Read the paper on "Gold-Fish" in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 6.

       *       *       *       *       *

PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

EASY NUMERICAL ENIGMA.

The combined numerals in the following sentence form the name of a great
poet, which is composed of 11 letters. A little girl sat in the garden
watching some 6-2-5-8-7 frolicking on the grass. The gardener was at
work with a 10-9-4-11, and he gave her a 7-5-3-10 to eat. Then a poor
Italian came up the road with a 2-9-10-7, and she ran to 9-1-4 her
mother if 6-9-10-3-2 might give him a piece of bread.

  POLLY.

       *       *       *       *       *

No. 2.

DROP-LETTER PUZZLE.

Each dash represents a letter. The whole is a familiar proverb:

B--r--s--f--f--a--h--r--l--c--t--g--t--e--.

  A. T.

       *       *       *       *       *

No. 3.

ENIGMA.

  My first is in battle, but not in fight.
  My second is in darkness, but not in night.
  My third is in brighten, but not in cheer.
  My fourth is in antler, but not in deer.
  My fifth is in knot, but not in tie.
  My sixth is in near, but not in nigh.
  My whole is a tropical fruit.

  EFFIE VIOLET (12 years).

       *       *       *       *       *

No. 4.

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

A vegetable. A puzzle. A gem. A buffoon. A bird. Labor. A roll of coin.
An affirmation. Answer--Two branches of an important study.

  C. P. T.

       *       *       *       *       *

No. 5.

WORD SQUARE.

First, a governor. Second, to join. Third, flexible. Fourth, a girl's
name. Fifth, attachments to fishing-rods.

  E. M.

       *       *       *       *       *

No. 6.

ENIGMA.

  My first is in made, but not in done.
  My second is in work, but not in fun.
  My third is in knit, and also in spun.
  My fourth is in take, but not in won.
  My fifth is in chase, but not in run.
  My sixth is in cake, but not in bun.
  My seventh is in left, but not in begun.
  My eighth is in mortar, but not in gun.
  My whole was a noted French general.

  C. W. L.

       *       *       *       *       *

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN NO. 21.

No. 1.

Violet.

No. 2.

Story of Robinson Crusoe.

No. 3.

Athens, Orleans, Oporto, Dover, Granada, Naples, Madrid, Paris, Basle,
Berlin, Lyons.

No. 4.

Candy.

No. 5.

  H  ebre  W
  U mbrell A
  D   um   B
  S iberi  A
  O   at   S
  N  eig   H

Hudson, Wabash.

No. 6.

Wellington.

       *       *       *       *       *

Favors are acknowledged from Lula Barlow, May Thornton, William N.,
Carrie G. Hard, Laura Wharry, C. N. MacClure, H. T., Lura W., William
H. M., Frank Haid, Jennie Clark, L. A. G., J. E. Conger, Clarence L. M.,
Jennie Graves, Robert Hoyt, Amy R. Du Bois, N. Rust Gilbert, M. H. and
M. B., G. C. M., R. V. Thomas, Munn Trowbridge, Walter B. and Clara M.,
Jeanie Curtis, Marion Comer, Nellie Douglas, E. G. L., Lillian Murdoch,
Annie Wright, "Frank," Susie Benedict, Florrie Cox, C. B. Albree, M.
Isaacs, Lillian Morton, Fanny Pierce, Deffie MacKellar.

       *       *       *       *       *

Correct answers to puzzles are received from Maud Knowlton, C. H. MacB.,
George W. Raymond, F. Schakers, Fred and Mary Pitney, Susie Randall,
Willie Atkinson, Grace J. Richards, Lottie G., Herbert N. T., Edward
Chamberlin, Hugh Burns, Arthur Brigham, George B. Wendell, Fannie and
Florence M., Rose C., May Fields, Agnes Witzel, Lily and Carrie Levéy,
Huntington Merchant, Etta Rice, Walter Dodge, V. L. Kellogg, Dora
Jelliff, W. S. Wenship, Fannie Rockwell, Pierre Jay, "George," C. H.
Conner, J. E. Marshall, Clara Jaquith, Willie Morris, Jessie G., Katie
and F. Lawlor.




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  SINGLE COPIES                     $0.04
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  FIVE SUBSCRIPTIONS, _one year_     7.00

Subscriptions may begin with any Number. When no time is specified, it
will be understood that the subscriber desires to commence with the
Number issued after the receipt of order.

Remittances should be made by POST-OFFICE MONEY ORDER or DRAFT, to avoid
risk of loss.

ADVERTISING.

The extent and character of the circulation of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE
will render it a first-class medium for advertising. A limited number of
approved advertisements will be inserted on two inside pages at 75 cents
per line.

  Address
  HARPER & BROTHERS,
  Franklin Square, N. Y.




CANDY

Send one, two, three, or five dollars for a sample box, by express, of
the best Candies in America, put up elegantly and strictly pure. Refers
to all Chicago. Address

  C. F. GUNTHER,
  Confectioner,
  78 MADISON STREET, CHICAGO.




=CARDS OF BEAUTIFUL PRESSED SEA-FERNS=, from New England coast, at 25
cents per dozen, postpaid. Will be sent to any address on receipt of
price, by

  B. A. A., Vineyard Grove,
  Lock Box 54.
  Dukes Co., Mass.




OUR CHILDREN'S SONGS.

       *       *       *       *       *

Our Children's Songs. Illustrated. 8vo, Ornamental Cover, $1.00.

       *       *       *       *       *

The best compilation of songs for the children that we have ever
seen.--_New Bedford Mercury._

This is a large collection of songs for the nursery, for childhood, for
boys and for girls, and sacred songs for all. The range of subjects is a
wide one, and the book is handsomely illustrated.--_Philadelphia
Ledger._

It contains some of the most beautiful thoughts for children that ever
found vent in poesy, and beautiful "pictures to match."--_Chicago
Evening Journal._

An excellent anthology of juvenile poetry, covering the whole range of
English and American literature.--_Independent_, N. Y.

Songs for the nursery, songs for childhood, for girlhood, boyhood,
and sacred songs--the whole melody of childhood and youth bound in
one cover. Full of lovely pictures; sweet mother and baby faces;
charming bits of scenery, and the dear old Bible story-telling
pictures.--_Churchman_, N. Y.

       *       *       *       *       *

Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York.

HARPER & BROTHERS _will send the above work by mail, postage prepaid, to
any part of the United States, on receipt of the price._




Old Books for Young Readers.

       *       *       *       *       *

Arabian Nights' Entertainments.

     The Thousand and One Nights; or, The Arabian Nights'
     Entertainments. Translated and Arranged for Family Reading, with
     Explanatory Notes, by E. W. LANE. 600 Illustrations by Harvey. 2
     vols., 12mo, Cloth, $3.50.

Robinson Crusoe.

     The Life and Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, of York,
     Mariner. By DANIEL DEFOE. With a Biographical Account of Defoe.
     Illustrated by Adams. Complete Edition. 12mo, Cloth, $1.50.

The Swiss Family Robinson.

     The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures of a Father and Mother
     and Four Sons on a Desert Island. Illustrated. 2 vols., 18mo,
     Cloth, $1.50.

     The Swiss Family Robinson--Continued: being a Sequel to the
     Foregoing. 2 vols., 18mo, Cloth, $1.50.

Sandford and Merton.

     The History of Sandford and Merton. By THOMAS DAY. 18mo, Half
     Bound, 75 cents.

       *       *       *       *       *

Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York.

_Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, on
receipt of the price._




CHILDREN'S PICTURE-BOOKS.

     Square 4to, about 300 pages each, beautifully printed on Tinted
     Paper, embellished with many Illustrations, bound in Cloth, $1.50
     per volume.

The Children's Picture-Book of Sagacity of Animals.

     With Sixty Illustrations by HARRISON WEIR.

The Children's Bible Picture-Book.

     With Eighty Illustrations, from Designs by STEINLE, OVERBECK,
     VEIT, SCHNORR, &c.

The Children's Picture Fable-Book.

     Containing One Hundred and Sixty Fables. With Sixty Illustrations
     by HARRISON WEIR.

The Children's Picture-Book of Birds.

     With Sixty-one Illustrations by W. HARVEY.

The Children's Picture-Book of Quadrupeds and other Mammalia.

     With Sixty-one Illustrations by W. HARVEY.

       *       *       *       *       *

Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York.

_Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, on
receipt of the price._




[Illustration: I'M ALL READY.]




DECAPITATED CHARADE.


  My whole a churchman is of weight,
  Summoned his grievances to state,
  Where, in the lofty audience-hall,
  The bishops are assembled all.
  His head cut off reveals his plan,
  Which he will do as best he can.
  What's left, again beheaded, shows
  The state of mind in which he goes,
  As, mounted on his good gray steed,
  He rides along through vale and mead.
  Behead that word, and, lo! 'tis plain
  Why all his efforts were in vain.
  Dejected now, at close of day,
  He, sighing, takes his homeward way.
  Behead once more: see what he did
  Ere sleep fell on each weary lid.




A GEOGRAPHICAL GAME.

An amusing and instructive geographical game has just been invented by
M. Levasseur, a well-known French geographer. It is called "Tour du
Monde," and is played on a large terrestrial globe, richly illustrated,
and divided into 232 spherical rectangles, each of which is marked with
a number corresponding to a number on a list which indicates gains or
losses in the game. A brass rib or meridian running from pole to pole of
the globe, but raised above the latter, is perforated with a row of
eighteen holes; and there are eighteen tiny flags provided for the
purpose of being planted in the holes. Each flag corresponds to one of
the principal states of the world, from China the most populous to
Holland the least populous.

To play the game the globe is set revolving, and a player, commencing at
the south pole, plants a flag into each hole one after another at each
revolution of the globe, and advances northward. The score of the
player, which may be either a gain or a loss, is determined by the
nature of the facts indicated on the rectangular space above which a
flag may stand when the globe stops revolving; and this is, of course,
the interesting and humorous part of the game. London, for example,
counts thirty, Paris twenty, and so on, according to population. A coal
mine, a Manchester cotton factory, a grain mart, all are reckoned gains;
but an encounter with a Zulu or a lion in Africa, a storm in the
Atlantic, a polar iceberg, a crocodile on the Nile, naturally go for
serious losses.




A PERSONATION; WHAT IS MY NAME?

BY ELEANOR JOY.


I was a queen of royal birth. I was married on the 8th of September,
1761, to a certain King of England, with whom I lived for fifty-seven
years. I had fifteen children, all of whom lived to grow up except two.
The king whom I married had never seen me, and was only attracted toward
me by my writing him an eloquent letter on the miseries and calamities
of war. I was brought to England in a yacht covered with streamers and
flowers. I was not very handsome, and the king, my husband, winced when
he saw I was not as beautiful as some of his ladies at court. But he
soon began to love me, and I lived happily with him till my death. Who
am I?




THE METRIC SYSTEM IN COINS.


It may not be generally known that we have in the nickel five-cent piece
of our coinage a key to the tables of the linear measures and weights of
the metric system. The diameter of this coin is two centimeters, and its
weight is five grams. Five of them placed in a row will, of course, give
the length of the decimeter; and two of them will weigh a decagram. As
the litre is a cubic decimeter, the key to the measure of length is also
the key to measures of capacity. Any person, therefore, who is fortunate
enough to own a five-cent nickel may be said to carry in his pocket the
entire metric system of weights and measures.




[Illustration: GIVING THE BABIES AN AIRING.]





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