Chapter II: Part 2

There was nothing of the soldier, nothing of the patriot, nothing at all remarkable, about poor Tony in any way. He was a shy, homely little boy, who would have passed well enough as plain Sam, which, being his father's name, would also have been his had it not been for his unfortunate birthday. But as a George Washington, even his doting mother was forced to realize he was not a complete success.

The first day he went to school the master sonorously read out his name as Antony Butler, whereat his brother giggled, and Tony, blushing fiery red, stammered out that he was not an Antony at all.

"Not Antony?" said the teacher, in natural surprise. "Why, then, are you called Tony?"

"Because my name is George Washington, and we had a George already," was the embarrassed answer.

After this the boys with one accord dubbed him Washing Tony, as if he were a Chinese laundryman, and Washing Tony he continued to be called.

Under these circumstances, perhaps he was excusable in wishing he had been born on some less illustrious day, and when the Twenty-second came duly around, it required all the delights of a new pair of skates and a fur cap to reconcile him entirely to his fate.

It being a general holiday, all the boys proposed spending it on the ice, and Tony could skate a great deal better than he could write or cipher; although even here he was never what boys consider brave, and what their parents are apt to more accurately define as fool-hardy.

The truth is, there was not in the child a spice of that boyish daring which seems so attractive in its possessor, and which is in reality so wanton and useless.

Tony never wanted to climb high trees, or jump from steep places, or pat a restive horse, or throw an apple at a cross old farmer. All these things, which were clear to the hearts of his companions, were totally unattractive to him. He could never be dared to any deed that had a touch of danger in it, and the contrast between his prudent conduct and his illustrious title was, in the eyes of all the other boys, the crowning absurdity of the case.

On this particular birthday the weather, though clear, was mild for the season, and some apprehension had been felt as to the complete soundness of the ice. A careful investigation, however, showed it to be all firm and solid except in one corner, where the lake was deepest, and where the ice, though unbroken, looked thin and semi-transparent, with the restless water underneath. Around this uncertain quarter a line was drawn, and soon some thirty or forty boys were skimming rapidly over the frozen surface.

Fred Hazlit and Eddy Barrows were the champion skaters of the district, and their evolutions were regarded with wonder and delight by a host of smaller boys, who vainly tried to rival their achievements.

Not so Tony. Although perfectly at home on the ice, he seemed to have no more desire to excel here than elsewhere, but skated gravely up and down, enjoying himself in his sober fashion, his cap drawn over his eyes, his little red hands thrust in his overcoat pockets.

George, who did not think this at all amusing, was off with the older boys, trying to write his name on the ice, and going over and over it with a patient persistency that, practiced at school, would have made him the first writer in his class.

Gradually the forbidden ground began to be encroached on, some of the older boys skimming lightly over it, and finding it quite hard enough to bear their weight. Soon the line was obliterated by a dozen pairs of skates, and the children, never heeding it, spread themselves over every inch of ice on the lake.

All but Tony. With characteristic prudence he had marked the dangerous corner well, and never once ventured upon it. As he stopped to tighten his skates, four of the younger boys, hand in hand, came bearing down upon him.

"Catch hold," shouted Willie Marston, "and we'll make a line. Hurrah! Here goes!" and Tony with the rest shot across the smooth sheet of ice until they came to the inclosed quarter. The others were keeping right on, but Tony stopped short.

"It is not safe," he said, "and I am not going on it."

"Nonsense!" cried Dick Treves. "What a coward you are, Tony! We have been over it a dozen time already this morning, and it is just as safe as the rest."

"Of course it is," said Willie. "Come ahead."

But Tony did not go ahead. Neither did he discuss the matter, for argument of any kind was not at all in his way. He merely stopped and let go of Willie's hand. "It isn't safe," he persisted. "You can do as you like, but I am not going on it."

"Well, stay there," said Ned Marston, giving him a little shove--"stay where you are, General Washington, and cross the Delaware on dry land if you can."

"Three cheers for General Washington!" shouted Dick, derisively. "Hurrah for the bravest of the brave!" and then the three boys skated on, leaving Tony standing there upon the ice.

His face flushed crimson with shame, but he never stirred. He hated to be laughed at and called a coward, but he was afraid to venture, and no amount of ridicule could urge him on.

Slowly he turned to go, when at that instant an ominous sound struck his ear. The treacherous ice was cracking in all directions, a dozen jagged seams spreading like magic over the smooth surface. There was a sharp snap, a cry of terror, a splash, and _three_ boys, white with fright, started back from the yawning hole, barely in time to save themselves from falling.

In the excitement and fear of that moment no one of them thought of his companion; but Tony, who stood beside, had seen poor Willie's despairing blue eyes fixed on him with a mute appeal for help as he staggered and fell into the dark water.

Somehow all his habitual caution, which was so falsely termed cowardice, had disappeared; he never even thought of being afraid, with that pitiful glance still before his eyes, but, urged on by some great impulse, cleared the space between them in an instant, and plunged down after his drowning friend.

Another minute and both boys re-appeared, Willie clutching fiercely at his preserver, and Tony holding him off as well as he could with one arm while he struck out bravely with the other.

It was but the work of a moment before help reached them, but that moment had saved poor Willie's life, and changed forever the opinions of the school.

They had learned what true courage was. Tony Butler might be timid and insignificant, but he had proved himself beyond a doubt worthy of his illustrious name, and a fit hero for the Twenty-second.

THE SAD FATE OF SEVENTEEN CUPIDS.

PUZZLED EDITOR.

How did we come by this marvellous flower?
Say, can you tell us what is it?
Did it spring from the earth in some wonderful hour,
Dainty, and rare, and exquisite?

BRIGHT YOUNG CONTRIBUTOR.

Why, seventeen Cupids went wild with despair
When Valentine's Day left each solus,
So they picked off the flowers and hung themselves there,
On the stalk of a tall gladiolus.

FUN AND FACTS FOR LITTLE FOLKS.

"How does a hardware dealer differ from a bootmaker?" asked a bright boy of one of his playmates. The latter, somewhat puzzled, gave it up. "Why," said the other, "because the one sold the nails, and the other nailed the soles."

* * * * *

Little Lucy fell and hurt her knee badly, which her mother, when she went to bed in the dark, tried to bandage. Soon the little one was heard calling. "Mamma," she said, "this bandage is not in the right place. I fell down higher up."

* * * * *

A grandfather, coming to read his paper, found that he had mislaid his spectacles, and thereupon declared, "I have lost my glasses somewhere, and can't read the paper." A little three-and-a-half-year-old girl, desiring to assist him, answered; "G'an'pa, you go outside and look froo ze window, and I'll hold ze paper up so you can read it."

* * * * *

A "Menagerie Race" was recently the source of great amusement to a party of army officers in India. Each competitor had an animal to enter, which he drove as straight as he could. There was a frog, a goose, a young pig, a cock, a cat, a dog, a turkey, a kid, a duck, a young monkey, and a pelican. The latter got away from his string and flew up into a high tree just as the race was going to begin. The animals had ribbons round their necks. The goose won the race, as he was the only one who went straight; the dog made for the pig, and a battle-royal ensued; the monkey and the cat laid down and would not move a step. It was a very amusing scene, so say the spectators, and the curious antics of the astonished animals caused a vast amount of laughter.

* * * * *

We had a parrot once which knew how to talk so well that it seemed as if he must certainly be able to think and reason as well as any of us. Two instances may be given to show what Polly could do in the way of conversation: One fine summer's morning, a young woman bringing a message to the house was asked into the kitchen, and while, as she supposed, quite alone there, a rather gruff voice remarked that it was "a very hot day," which it certainly was. As she did not know the parrot was there, she was considerably startled, and would scarcely believe it was the bird which had spoken to her. Another day Polly's cage was hung up on a tree near the poultry-yard, where a fight for supremacy was going on between two cocks, and the gardener, who was at work hard by, distinctly heard Polly say, "You idiots! Bran" (calling to the big dog which lay asleep in his kennel)--"Bran, bite them! bite them!"

* * * * *

Who could have believed that even among the famous riders of Hungaria would be found one who could perform the following feat? While a noble stag of ten was being hotly chased by the Kàposzátsmegyerer hounds--a subscription pack--one Karl Pörös, a discharged hussar, managed to bring the terrified animal to a stand-still in some close cover through which it was forcing its way, and, by an almost superhuman effort of strength and agility, to vault upon its back. After several desperate but unsuccessful attempts to dislodge its rider from his seat, the stag, stimulated anew to flight by the cry of the fast-approaching hounds, resumed its course, but it soon broke down under the weight of its unaccustomed burden, and died from sheer exhaustion and terror. Pörös--at least so the story goes--was found by the huntsmen sitting on the unwounded carcass of the stag, which he had literally ridden to death and resolutely claimed as the just reward of an achievement, unprecedented in the annals of the chase.

A NOVEL CHAIR-SLEIGH.

Here is a design of a chair-sleigh, which can easily be constructed, and which will enable some of the ladies who do not skate to have a very pleasant time on the ice. The runners (see Fig. 1) are thirty-nine inches long, and are shod with iron for their whole length. They are about thirteen inches apart, and are braced in three places, namely, at the back, at the front, and in the middle (directly under the front legs of the seat). The foot-boards are two inches wide by five-eighths of an inch thick. The seat is about fifteen inches square, and strengthened underneath before and behind. The legs of the seat are fifteen inches high, and are fastened to the runners and the seat by hinges, which allow the seat to fall forward over the foot-board, as shown in Fig. 2. In like manner the long arms, instead of being firmly fixed, work on a round iron rod, about a quarter of an inch in diameter, connecting the runners in front. The arms are fifty inches long, and are mortised into the back piece, which is twenty-five inches long by two inches and seven-eighths wide, thus leaving a few inches at each end for handles. The arms are connected by a cross-piece in such a position that when the seat is perpendicular, the cross-piece shall rest upon little brackets placed on the front legs. This cross-piece has a screw-hole in it, by which it is screwed to the front brace of the seat, thus firmly securing the whole.

To fold the chair for carrying to and from the pond, draw the screw and raise the arms, and the seat will fall forward between the arms and under the cross-piece, as shown in Fig. 2. The advantages of this chair-sleigh over an ordinary chair on runners are that it is perfectly safe, does not interfere with the action of the skater who is pushing it, and can be easily carried in the hand or in a carriage.

PINKETY WINK.

Miss Pinkety Wink she had eyes that would blink,
And small feet that turned out at the toes;
She had neat little hands, hair braided in bands,
And her cheeks they were red as a rose,
And she always was dressed in fine clothes.

Miss Pinkety Wink, I am sure you will think,
Was a very nice Dolly indeed;
She was pretty and still, and she never got ill,
For the doctor there never was need;
To her mistress she always gave heed.

But Pinkety Wink (I'm afraid you will sink
When I tell you how sad was her fate),
For an airing gone out, and while riding about
In her fine little carriage in state,
It turned over, oh, sad to relate!

Poor Pinkety Wink, with her eyes that would blink,
From her shoulders had dropped off her head!
Little Carrie, she cried, while vainly she tried
Her dear Dolly to mend; then she said,
"_I'm afraid my sweet Pinkey is dead!_"

Now what do you think? Well, Pinkety Wink
She carried right straight to mamma,
Who melted some glue, and made her quite new;
And now Carrie is laughing, "Ha! ha!
Was there ever so nice a mamma?"

Last week we had Valentine's Day, and this week brings us a holiday of a different kind. Americans celebrate Washington's Birthday because that great and good man was our leader in the war for our separate existence as a nation. Many of you study the history of your country at school, and so you have learned that George Washington was born February 22, 1732. His father died when he was only eleven, but he had a good mother, and he early learned to honor her in all things. We have not room to tell you much about Washington's boyhood, but one thing we will say, because you little folks who are going to school may imitate George in this particular: his copy-books were always as neat and clean as possible, and are models of beautiful writing. You see, he was conscientious in little things. Now if you want to refresh your memories about the French and Indian War, the Revolution, and the early days of our Independence, you can not do better than to begin reading those portions of our history in the week that brings Washington's Birthday.

* * * * *

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK.

I have three pet cats, but Mr. Tibbs is the wisest. One morning it
was so cold there was ice on the window so that you could not see
out, and Tibbie is very fond of looking out of the window; so, as
he could not see, he took his tongue and licked a place big enough
for him to look out. It was so cunning. He is a very high jumper.
Every meal-time all the cats come around Mr. Tibbs, and then he
cries for all of them. He is very large, and weighs sixteen pounds.

I go to school, and learn music, and I am very fond of it. When I
grow older, I am going to take singing lessons and lessons on the
organ. I also have my dolls. I have a large French doll, which has
everything like a little girl. Then my baby is very sweet, with
big brown eyes and golden curls. My French doll has blue eyes, and
dark brown hair, like myself; I also have brown eyes. I have been
a constant reader of your paper ever since it was published. I
have a dear little turtle which is as large as a quarter of a
dollar, but he sleeps all the time now.

NETTIE M. T.

* * * * *

WASHINGTON, D. C.

I am a little girl just nine years old, and I am the only girl my
papa and mamma have got, and the only grand-girl my two grandpapas
and one grandmamma has, too, but I tell you he has lots of
grand-boys, though.

I have four little brothers, all younger than I am, and once we
had some cows, and Harvie--that's one of my brothers, who is
eight--came running into the house, and told our nurse, Buty, he
was "afraid to go out into the yard where the married cow was"--he
meant the one that had the calf. Everybody laughed so much when
mamma told them, and I have read some things not any funnier than
that, so I thought it would be a nice thing to put in my letter to
you. Harvie says I must put how old he was then, because you all
might think he did it when he was eight. He was nearly four when
he was frightened so badly. My aunts in Virginia take HARPER'S
YOUNG PEOPLE for us, and Harvie, Lewis, and I like it ever so
much. Lewis is just five, and wears pants, too. Maurice sits up
and looks as though he knew what mamma was reading; but he don't,
though. Isn't this a long one? I did not write it all the same
day. If you can, I wish you would please copy this in the paper
you send Harvie, Lewis, and me. I don't see many letters from
Washington. Harvie says he just bets you won't.

SERENA HELEN S.

Oh, Harvie boy, you shouldn't bet, especially when you bet so foolishly. Rena's letter is "copied" right here by the types, and now we shall be expecting, one of these days, another letter from Rena's brother.

* * * * *

KEOKUK, IOWA.

I am a little girl almost six years and a half old. I think YOUNG
PEOPLE is the nicest paper published. Papa and auntie have read
every number to me since the first. My dear mamma is in heaven, and
I live at grandpa's with my auntie. Papa comes to see me three
times a day, and every Friday he stays all night with me. YOUNG
PEOPLE comes that night, and papa reads it to me. I think Jimmy
Brown's stories are so funny. I liked "Lady Rags" so much! Then I
thought I would try and help the poor, too. The Christmas number
was very nice! After I read my paper I send it out to my grandma in
the country; they have no little children there, but they like it
ever so much. I have the nicest play-house; it is built out in the
yard, is furnished like a big house, and will hold six or eight
grown people. I have so many dolls that I can not tell you all
about them. Yesterday I felt so badly! I took my newest doll out to
walk; it was a gentleman, and I called it Frank, after my papa. I
let it fall, and broke its head all to pieces. But papa got me
another right away, just like the first. I have a kitty named after
Toby Tyler. I do not go to school, but I study at home. I can spell
very well, and print, but can not write yet, so my auntie is
writing this for me. We read all the letters in YOUNG PEOPLE, and
like them very much. I sometimes see the names of those who send
money for the Young People's Cot; if I knew how to send it, I would
send some also. I am getting a collection of picture cards. I have
over four hundred now. Will you please publish this, for I have
never seen a letter from Keokuk.

LULU W.

We are glad you have a kind auntie and a dear loving father and grandma, since God has taken your mamma to live in the home above. About sending money to Young People's Cot, it is very simple. You need merely write a little letter, inclose your money, and address it to Miss E. Augusta Fanshawe, 43 New Street, New York city. This lady is Treasurer of the Cot Fund, and she will duly acknowledge all the money received by her, whether the amount be large or small.

How nice it was that your papa was able to buy a new head for his namesake so soon! Now if we should fall and break our heads, we could not get new ones so easily.

* * * * *

CHARLOTTE, NORTH CAROLINA.

I have a black-and-tan dog; his name is Bismarck--for short, Bis. I
think he is beautiful--short, stubby, bandy-legged, and very fat,
and wobbles when he runs. Papa got him for a pure-blooded rat
terrier, but I do not think him very pure. Will B. and Willie S.
caught a mouse and put it in a dry-goods box, and put Bis in with
the mouse. The mouse ran all over Bis, and Bis would not touch it.
So one held Bis's mouth open, and the other caught the mouse with
the tongs and put it into Bis's mouth. Bis caught the mouse in his
teeth, but was careful not to hurt it. It is dinner-time now, and I
will close my letter.

NED L.

* * * * *

CUSTER CITY, PENNSYLVANIA.

I am a little boy seven years old. Papa reads the stories to us. We
want the man to write about Toby Tyler some more; and Jimmy Brown
is the "boss" boy.

There are lots of wells here, with deep holes and high derricks.
They get oil out of the holes, and send it to the 'finery, and
they make it into 'finery oil for the stores, and they sell it to
the people to burn in lamps. They get thick par'fine out of the
wells too, and the men come with pails and kegs, and sell it to
the factory, and they make candy and chewing-gum out of it for
stores to sell to boys and girls. I am tired. That's all.

JOE A. V.

P.S.--I can't spell good, 'cause I've been sick 'bout four weeks.

JOE.

* * * * *

NEW YORK CITY.

Papa has given my brother and me HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, both years,
bound, but this year we are taking it by the week, because we
thought we would have more time to read it, and we could make out
the Wiggles. I have four brothers, all older than myself. We have a
very large black Newfoundland dog called Carlo, and a white setter
called Bob. We have a gray cat, and a cunning little black kitten,
which papa called Janauschek, after the actress. This is the first
letter I have ever written to any paper, and I hope you will print
it.

AGNES R. L.

* * * * *

BOONEVILLE, CALIFORNIA.

I am eleven years old, and live in the mountains in California,
among the big redwood trees. I have a doll that shuts her eyes and
opens them again. We have twenty-six geese and a lot of sheep--but
they are dying now--and a pet lamb. To-morrow father and brother
Simon go out in the mountains to get two wild hogs that Bob Bawles
killed for us to-day. I have five sisters and three brothers.

SARAH A. R.

* * * * *

SAN ANTONIO, TEXAS.

DEAR "YOUNG PEOPLE,"--Mamma gave us a year's subscription to your
dear self for a birthday present, and when that expired, renewed it
for a Christmas present. There are four of us boys, and our great
favorite of all the papers we read, or get mamma to read to us, is
YOUNG PEOPLE. We love Mr. Otis, and feel well acquainted with him
and the dear Postmistress, and our little friends' letters are such
pleasure to us! We copy them very often. We send you a small
bouquet of violets in a box, and hope you will get them; they will
be mailed with this letter. We have violets, pinks, roses, and
tuberoses almost all winter. We would have sent some long ago, but
mamma was too ill for us to think of anything pleasant. Our climate
is so very mild that flowers, even geraniums, begonias, ice-plant,
etc., grow out of doors all winter. Sometimes a frost comes and
kills a few, but not often. Dear YOUNG PEOPLE, we all love you so!
and when we go to New York we will call to see you. Grandpapa has
been a subscriber to HARPER'S MONTHLY ever since it was first
published. Mr. Nic Tengg, the bookseller here, ordered YOUNG PEOPLE
for mamma, as we get all our papers through him. We will soon send
something for Young People's Cot.

We can all swim, even four-year-old Edward, and ride our pony, and
three of us can drive mamma's buggy all over town. We take lessons
on the piano, and can sing several songs.

Your loving little admirers,

GEORGE C. F.
JOSEPH F. F.
STERLING I. F.
EDWARD F.

"What can be in this little box, so soft, yet so bulky, and oh! so sweet?" we said, when, the other day, a box came to our office. Opening it, dear boys, there were your violets, wrapped so nicely in the wet cotton that they, were still blue and beautiful. It took us quite a little while to discover who were the kind donors, for your letter was one of a great many which came to our Post-office Box that day. But when we did find out, we stopped writing and reading long enough to waft a kiss all the way to San Antonio. How nice it is for you to be able to ride, drive, and swim, as well as to sing and play! Each of these accomplishments will have its use, and give you pleasure all your lives. We are glad your dear mother is better, and if you come to New York, we will be much pleased to see you.

* * * * *

STAMFORD, CONNECTICUT.

We have two little guinea-pigs, an old cat named Tomas, and four
little bantams. I drive the old rooster all about the yard,
harnessed to a little wagon. We have a nice horse named Saxon,
which eats sugar. The little guinea-pigs drink coffee and eat brown
paper. I am a little boy nine years old.

WILLIE R. D.

It must be fun to drive a rooster in harness, and the little wagon must look "cute." Did you begin when he was a little chick? Are you not afraid the guinea-pigs will have "nerves" if you give them coffee?

* * * * *

I haven't any pets to tell about, but I have six dolls. I live in
Philadelphia all winter, but in the spring I go to Mayville, on
Chautauqua Lake, near the Sunday-school Assembly Grounds. I go
there a great many times, and I think it is very nice.

I have a horse of my own in Mayville. Her name is Daisy. I ride
horseback on her. Once she threw me, and nearly broke my arm. It
was bruised so I couldn't use it for a week.

I am beginning to get together a cabinet of curiosities. I will
exchange a 25 and 50 cent stamp from Germany, a 2 and 5 cent from
Finland, and 15 and 25 cent from France, and some silk cocoons and
spun silk, for ore; shells, minerals, or anything fit for a
cabinet.

LODIE TOURGEE,
303 S. 11th St., Philadelphia, Penn.

* * * * *

DEER MISTER HARPER,--my Pa tok yor paper for me. i be much plaes
wid it. i tink "Torkin laves" is very inrestin. i got a cro an I
named um Toosulom out ob de book. i cotched a Rabet an de way he
did run! you ought to se um blink whin I put um in de kage. Put dis
note in de paper kos I want to se how it looks.

JACOP WASHINGTON J.

Did you mean to be as funny as you could, young gentleman? We fancy it took not a little trouble to get up that bad spelling, and to put instead of capital I's those modest little i's. After all, it does not look so nicely as the letter you are going to write us next week, with every word spelled correctly, and all the capitals and stops in the right places, as prim as young ladies at a party. When you send that letter, please remember to write your address plainly in the upper right-hand corner.

* * * * *

MEADVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA.

I have been a sick boy. But as I am now much better, I hope to be
well again soon.

I have asked my mamma to write for me. Mamma reads a great deal to
us, and we have HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE and _St. Nicholas_.

We have them bound at the end of the year, and we think the two
volumes of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE the very nicest books we have. I
have two sisters and one brother, and we have several pets--a
white pony, a canary-bird, a black cat, and some _mice_.

Mamma read to us about having mice for pets in one of HARPER'S
YOUNG PEOPLE, and I thought I would try to have some. I made a
cage out of a starch box; on one side I fastened a large
baking-powder can, and I put some cotton in that. I put wire
netting over the front, and then I tried to catch the mice.

When I caught one, I put it in the cage, and after a few days he
looked lonely, and seemed to have grown thin, so I caught another
and put him in, and now they are fat, and seem very happy.

They keep pretty still all day in the dark, but at night come out
in the box, and eat and nibble just enough to keep their teeth
sharp, I guess.

They are cunning little creatures, and I think very nice for pets,
and perhaps if you should publish this letter some other little
folks would like to try the same plan.

We always enjoy the stories in YOUNG PEOPLE, but we liked "Toby
Tyler" best of all.

LOUIS DE V. M.

* * * * *

OMAHA, NEBRASKA.

My little sister and I take HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. She is nine, and
I am twelve. My brother has a cat nine years old. He is gray, and
striped with black. My aunt has a Maltese cat twenty-seven years
old. I go to the Central School, and I am in the sixth class. There
is a parlor game called capping rhymes. One person gives two or
three lines of some piece of poetry, and some other person takes
two or three lines of another piece, the first word beginning with
the first letter of the last word of the preceding person's verse.

BLANCHE A.

An easier way to play at rhymes is this: I begin, for instance, by saying:

"The moon came up in the clear night sky."

Sarah follows, making a line to rhyme with mine, thus,

"As round and full as an apple-pie."

Tom's turn is next, and he says,

"Some people think it is made of cheese."

And then Theodore takes it up with,

"But that is silly, as any one sees."

* * * * *

BARTLE, INDIANA.

I am a little boy ten years old. We live in the country, on the
Knobs. It is very high land; my pa says it is a thousand feet above
the level of the sea. We have lots of fruit trees, mostly peaches.
I have lots of peaches to eat in summer. I know a word longer than
the one sent by L. L. H., of Orange, New Jersey. It is
A-ber-con-way-co-pen-ha-gen-nic-o-de-mus-an-a-bap-tist-dal-a-mu-tha-
o-ba-di-ah. My pa learned this word when he went to school.

FRANK C. P.

* * * * *

Exchangers will please address Alice C. Little, formerly of Institution for the Blind, Janesville, Wisconsin, at Oberlin, Ohio.

* * * * *

A WORD TO EXCHANGERS.--Do not write with pale ink, green ink, blue ink, yellow ink, red ink, or brown ink. Do not write with a lead-pencil. Write very plainly, please, with black ink, on white paper or on a postal card. Before beginning to write, think over what you have to offer, and state it as briefly as possible. We can not make room for any exchange which covers four pages of note-paper. Observe our standing notice, and always communicate by mail with the boys and girls with whom you desire to exchange before sending away your own treasures. Remember that letters which are not fully prepaid will probably go to the Dead-letter Office, and in sending heavy articles, take pains to have them weighed, and put on a sufficient number of postage stamps.

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C. Y. P. R. U.

Lucy wants to know something about the agate. She has a very pretty one set as a breastpin, and her brother prizes agates as among the most valuable things which he collects and exchanges. They have an interesting history.

Agates are composed of layers of quartz, generally of different varieties, intimately joined together, and are found of all colors, sometimes exceedingly vivid. In modern mineralogy this stone is an impure variety of chalcedony, which derives its name from Chalcedon, that once famous city of Bithynia, in Asia Minor. The rocks near this place, which is not far from the present Scutari, contain this stone in considerable quantities. Chalcedony consists of silica and alumina, and comprises besides agate, heliotrope, onyx, plasma, and sard, differently colored by metallic oxides. It is found in grape-like masses, but more frequently in rolled pebbles. The finest Oriental chalcedony presents in its interior a fine mottled appearance.

The first engraved gem that Pliny mentions is an agate that belonged to Pyrrhus, King of Epirus. This was in the first half of the third century before Christ. The same monarch is said to have had in his possession an agate on which were figured the nine Muses, and Apollo holding a lyre; the work not of an engraver, but of Nature herself! The veins in the stone were said to be arranged so naturally that each of the Muses had her particular attribute.

At a late period, and even in the Middle Ages, it was a popular belief that the engraved gems found in digging the ground of ancient sites were natural objects, and that the representations on them were a mere natural indication of the special power or quality each possessed.

Busts and heads in full and bass relief were executed by the Romans on chalcedony in the grandest style; the finest specimens of these that we possess are the Marlborough "Medusa," and the bust of "Matidia," supported on a peacock, and three inches high. The chalcedony was supposed to cure lunatics, and make them "amiable and merry."

The agate was an object of the most fanciful delusions to the ancients. Orpheus says, "If thou wearest a piece of the tree-agate on thy hand, the immortal gods shall be pleased with thee; if the same be tied to the horns of thy oxen when ploughing, or round the ploughman's sturdy arm, wheat-crowned Ceres shall descend from heaven with full lap upon thy furrows." He adds that every kind is an antidote to the asp's bite, if taken in wine.

By burning the agate it was believed that storms would be averted, the proof of their efficacy being that if thrown into a caldron of boiling water they immediately cooled it; but in order to do good, they must be strung on the hair of a lion's mane. The stone, colored like a hyena's skin, was believed to be the cause of domestic strife, and was viewed with horror.

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What do you think of the wardrobe of Queen Elizabeth, girls? It must have been about the most varied and extensive ever recorded in royal annals, to judge from a list of her wearing apparel recently gathered from the State papers. When the Maiden Queen was sixty-eight, and might therefore have been supposed to have outlived some of her youthful vanity, she possessed 99 complete official costumes, 102 French gowns, 100 robes with trains and 67 without, 126 antique dresses, 136 bodices, and 125 tunics, not to mention such trifles as 96 mantles, 85 dressing-gowns, and 27 fans. With all these dresses, however, it is curious to note that Queen Bess owned only nine pairs of shoes. When she died, in 1603, three thousand articles of apparel were found in her wardrobes, duly catalogued.

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"A GERMANTOWN GIRL."--Thanks for your cordial indorsement of the article on cigarette smoking in No. 117. We hope you will ask the boys of your acquaintance to read it, and we are sure that you and your girl friends will do much to put an end to the bad habit in your set if your young gentlemen friends know that you disapprove of it.

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Among the thousands of young people who read this paper there must be some who suffer from timidity or bashfulness. The Postmistress wishes all such to read the following quotation from an address made to children at a recent service in Westminster Abbey by Dr. Bradley, the successor of Dean Stanley, of whom you all have heard:

"Dean Stanley was, as I said, a man whom not only children, but all
persons, rejoiced to meet, because, as an American whose name is
known all over Europe said, at a great meeting held close by the
other day, 'he was so pleasant'; simple words, but very true. Yet,
strange to say, he was in his childhood and boyhood so shy and
timid that his mother and his father--who, besides being a very
good man, could tell stories all day about birds and insects and
country life, and could draw children after him as a magnet draws
the needle--were alarmed about him. They could not teach him to
enjoy games like other children; and though he was not unhappy at
school, they were much distressed because they could not get him to
speak a word or seem happy in company. He seemed not to like--some
of you, perhaps, know the feeling--to notice anything, or to be
noticed when others were by him that he did not know quite well. He
cured himself of this so completely that if it were not for the
many letters describing him as he was then, no one would now
believe this about him. How did he do so? By always trying to
instruct himself about other things, and to interest himself about
other people.

"It was not merely because he was so clever, and wrote such good
poetry, that boys christened the corner where his little study was
'Poet's Corner,' that the Rugby boys were so fond of him, but
because he was so affectionate, pure-minded, warm-hearted, and
kind; and years afterward we young men, as we were at Oxford,
learned to love him as our tutor, not because he was becoming
famous in the land, but because he cared so much about us, and was
always ready with a kind word and act, and we thought him so good.
If any of the children to whom I am speaking suffer very much now,
as boys and girls often do, in a way their elders never know of,
from this same shyness and timidity, let them learn from the story
of Dean Stanley the best way to cure themselves, and be of good
cheer."

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The members of the C. Y. P. R. U. will find in this number an interesting article, by Mrs. John Lillie, entitled "The Gavotte," giving a description of this picturesque old dance, together with a sketch of the boy life of the famous musician John Sebastian Bach. Our boy readers will be interested in the description of "Mr. Barnum's Show in Winter-Quarters," some of them may be inclined to try the Indian game of "Tchungkee," and others may like to busy themselves in the construction of "A Novel Chair-Sleigh." The girls will be interested in the story of "The Milkmaids of Dort."

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PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

DIAMOND.

1. A letter. 2. To descry. 3. A vulgar woman. 4. One of the United States. 5. A place where watches are manufactured. 6. A loud noise. 7. A letter.

BOB.

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No. 2.

FOUR EASY WORD SQUARES.

1.--1. Low, wet ground. 2. Part of a circus. 3. Kingly. 4. An animal. 5. Parts of a building.

JIMMY BROWN.

2.--1. A present. 2. Unemployed. 3. To run away. 4. A bird.

3.--1. Pulverized grain. 2. A name. 3. An exclamation. 4. Final.

NELSON M.

4.--1. A number. 2. A metal. 3. Empty. 4. Extremes.

CAPTAIN KIDD.

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No. 3.

ENIGMA.

My first in heart as well as hand.
My second figures in the land.
My third appears in every plain.
My fourth is found in every train.
My fifth in hope, but not in fear.
My sixth in sound, but not in hear.
My seventh rides in every drive.
My eighth's in all, and in alive.
My ninth's in crown, but not in ring.
My tenth's a favorite with the king.
My eleventh may be seen in sail.
Also in storm, though not in gale.
My whole's a well-known mountain chain
That's girdled round by grove and plain.
Poets have added to my fame,
And Cooper often wrote my name.

DOLLIE.

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ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 118.

No. 1.

P P
I n v a d e R
L O
G G
R e f i n e R
I E
M S
S p o n g e S
B B
Y U
J a v e l i N
O Y
H A
N a n k e e N

_Pilgrim's Progress_, by John Bunyan.

No. 2.

L ute J ars G ate
A nne A lps R oof
D ime N oon E lms
Y ore E ase Y ear

Lady Jane Grey.

No. 3.

M O T H O G R E
O L I O G R E W
T I P S R E D E
H O S E E W E R

No. 4.

Snow-storm. Whittier.

No. 5.

Tongue-tied. Cap-a-pie. Blackboard.

No. 6.

W H E A T T R A S H
H E A T R A S H
E A T A S H
A T S H
T H

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Answer to Enigma on page 240--Courtship.

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Correct answers to puzzles have been received from "Helen of Troy," Ludwdg L. Dessoir, "Commodore Nutt," Ella Price, "Fanchon," Gustave D. Mott, Georgie Wardell, Edith Abbey, Mary Hathaway, M. F. Tomes, H. L. Pruyn.

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[_For Exchanges, see 2d and 3d pages of cover._]

PARALLELS.

ARRANGED BY G. B. BARTLETT.

There is no better amusement among the many in which old proverbs are brought to mind than the one just introduced under the above title, which exercises at the same time the inventive and guessing powers.

Any number can join in this game, which is begun by one of the players, who relates some real or fancied experience, or tells a story in which some proverb which he has in mind is expressed. The person who guesses the proverb thus indicated has to tell another story, which must be continued until it has also been guessed.

When played by a large company, it is well to divide into equal sides, arranged opposite each other in two lines. In this case the first player at the right upper side begins to tell the story, which must be guessed only on the opposite side. The guesser tells his story next, which must be guessed by some one on the right side of the room. The sides before beginning to play choose a time-keeper, who decides the duration of each contest, which should be from half an hour to an hour, according to the number of players. He keeps his watch in his hand, and calls out "Stop!" the instant the time has expired, and then declares the side to have won on which the unguessed story was being told at that moment. This keeps all the players on the alert, as each one is eager to guess while he is inventing his own story, so there may be no delay if he succeeds in guessing.

This effort to do two things at once is very good for the mental powers, as well as very amusing, as the players often become nervous and confused. The best stories are those which suggest several proverbs, as they may be guessed incorrectly at first, and thus give more time to the side on which the narrator is. To make this game clear to the youngest readers, who often play as well as their elders, a specimen of a simple story is given, as follows:

"An old farmer had lived very frugally on his farm for many years, until he had acquired a small competence. His old gray mare had worked as hard as he, and now, grown old in the service, was seldom driven fast, but went slowly from door to door, dragging the milk-cart, which stopped at every farm-house, in the morning for the full cans, and on the return trip from the station left the empty ones to be refilled. The old animal had become very lazy from this habit, and as she slowly jogged home, the old man would be able to read his daily paper, or to count over the coppers with which the sale of milk had filled the old leather bag which he always carried. One fine day, as he left the station on his homeward way, a telegram was put into his hands containing the startling news that his barn was on fire. Eager to save his stock, he plied the whip on his poor beast, whose hide was so thick that very little effect was produced. The farmer continued his blows until the whip-lash was worn out, and then tried the whip-stock, which soon broke also, and the old man was in despair, as the mare only jumped up and down, without increasing her forward progress." At this point "More haste the worse speed," is incorrectly guessed by one of the players, and the narrator proceeds: "The mare shook her head angrily, and leered at her master, showing the whites of her eyes as if in scorn, and this action reminded the farmer that she was very sensitive about the head, being always annoyed when her bridle was put on. 'Ah! old Betsey,' said he, 'I know how to make you go now;' and taking a handful of coppers from his bag, he threw them with all his might at the mare's head. Surprised at this novel attack, old Betsey darted off with the speed of an unbroken colt, and brought the old man home quicker than he had ever before gone over the road." "Money makes the mare go," guesses a player on the right, and begins the second story.

This example will show the method of playing, as the stories are as varied as the tastes of their authors, and old and young alike enjoy this game, which is adapted for the summer picnic as well as for the winter fireside.

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The answer to the Monogram Puzzle on page 237 of No. 119 as follows:

_Swift_ ran the deer in mortal fright,
Over _Hawthorne_ bushes leaping;
Passing the _Hamlet_ with footsteps light,
Near where the _Cooper_ his shop was keeping.

Swift (Dean), Hawthorne, Hamlet, Cooper.