Chapter II: Part 2

"No, it is not queer, Ben; it is precisely the sort of thing you might expect. When you mentioned the place of the nest, I felt at once tolerably sure that a pair of wrens must be the builders, for they seem to have a special fancy for odd places. When we go into the house again I will show you Mr. Audubon's plate of this species, and you will see that he represents them as having built their nest in an old torn hat which had been hung on a branch of a tree. I saw a wren's nest once in a pickle jar, and at another time a pair had taken possession of a tomato can which some boys had hung on a fence stake and used as a mark for shooting till it was full of shot-holes. They often go into empty boxes, and it is curious how much work they will do in filling up a box when it is too large for their little nest. I recollect one case where a pair of wrens took a fancy to a soap box which was more than a foot long, and rather than leave any part of it vacant they actually worked away till they had piled grass, etc., into it clear down to the very hole by which they entered, and there they built their nest right down close to the entrance. These were all American wrens; but here is a beautiful drawing of another species never seen in this country."

"Oh, Uncle Horace, what a cunning little fellow, one up above and one looking out of that hole in the nest! You say he never comes to this country; where does he live, then?"

"That drawing represents the common wren of England and of France, Bennie. In fact, the bird is found in most parts of southern and western Europe, and is just as familiar in its habit of coming about houses there as our wren is here. They all of them seem to like the idea of being where people are, and yet they are timid and retiring little things after all. The genus to which they belong is called in the books _Troglodytes_, which you must pronounce in four syllables, not three. It sounds like a harsh name for such a delicate bird; it means a dweller in caves."

"Why, Uncle Horace, you did not say anything about their living in caves."

"No, I did not, Bennie, nor do I think they ever go into caves. Still, the name is a very correct one, as applying to their habits. If you will carefully watch this pair out here behind the barn, you will see for yourself. There is no nook or corner about there which you will not see them prying into."

"Here comes one of them now, Uncle Horace, out through the stone fence. He is going to scold us for being here to watch him. You need not mind it, little fellow; we shall not hurt you. But what makes him keep his tail held up so straight? Some of the time he almost lays it over on his back."

"I was about to call your attention to that very thing. That is one of their singular peculiarities. All of this tribe of the wrens have that curious habit. By 'this tribe,' I mean those species which so much resemble the common wren of Europe or the house wren of America, for there are others which are quite distinct from them, and which do not carry their tails in that manner. Look at the drawing, and you will see that the bird on the top of the nest has his tail raised, though scarcely so remarkably as our friend here on the fence, but still it is enough to show his tendency. Now we have here, in our Northern and Eastern States especially, another species which commonly comes to us only in the winter instead of being here, as this bird is, during the summer. Though he lives more in the woods, and does not very often come about houses, yet they are very similar to the house wren, and you would notice them at once because of this habit of carrying the tail erect; and it would be the same with the wood wren, and also with the queer little fellows who live in the marshes, the marsh wrens."

"And then are there others which are not like them--not what you call of the same 'tribe'?"

"Yes, in our Southern States, and even no further south than Delaware, we find a species decidedly larger than our house wren, and having no resemblance to it as far as familiarity with men and houses is concerned. It is the great Carolina wren, and from seeing this species now before us you would scarcely imagine that to be a wren at all. He lives in the woods, he carries his tail as a robin or a bluebird does, and his song is not like the few trilling and twittering notes of the house wren. He pours out a flood of music that is similar to that of a thrush; you can scarcely believe when you see him that so much power of notes can come from a body so small."

"I see in this drawing, Uncle Horace, that the European species makes a nest with only a hole in the side. I have seen a robin's nest, and several swallows' nests, and sparrows' nests, and they were all open on the top, like a cup; they were not covered."

"No, that is very true, Ben. That is the way in which the greater number of birds build. But many of the wrens have the propensity to arch their nests over. The one in the drawing is represented correctly. They always seem determined to have an arch, even if it is not needed--if there is an arch there already. One pair, I recollect, built their nest inside a small gourd shell. The top of the shell arched over so close that the back of the bird as she sat in the nest almost touched the shell, but she had not been contented without having an arch of her own, and she had actually made one no thicker than fine paper. It seemed to me that it was only one layer of fine fibres, hair, grass etc. But there it was, an arch, and she was doubtless contented."

"What did you mean by the marsh wrens being queer little fellows?"

"They are queer fellows, sure enough. Queer in their nests, queer in their song, queer in the places they choose for their homes. They are of two species, quite closely resembling each other, and yet one will never live where the water is fresh, and the other will live only where it is fresh. The first is seen only on the salt-marshes, and yet its habits are almost the same as those of the fresh-water bird. They build nests almost alike, and yet they never put them in similar places. In going across a salt-marsh you often see a tuft of the tall coarse grasses, of which the stems have been woven and bound together into a sort of column, and then in their top, two or three feet from the ground, is a large coarse ball of long leaves and fibres, of the size of a child's head. This is the nest of a marsh wren. Now you may cross the fresh-water marshes all day long, and you will see no such thing, and yet you will see numbers of the short-billed marsh wrens, and you will pass many of their nests, and the nests will look almost exactly like those perched up in the tops of the salt-water grasses, but you will not see them unless you know where to look. Why? Because instead of being away up on the grasses, they are placed _at the roots_. Can you tell why they differ so in their nest-building? I can not. Each nest, of either species, is a coarse ball, as already mentioned, with a round hole on the side, and inside is the real nest, a beautifully smooth and comfortable place for the bird and her young."

"Is the nest like this one in the drawing? This has a hole in the side."

"Somewhat like it, but it is built commonly of coarser materials. I mentioned also that the marsh wrens of either the salt or fresh water species were peculiar in their notes, for you can scarcely call it a song. It is a series of short sounds, seeming almost like the bubbling of air through water--somewhat like the noise which your feet make in stepping on the marshy ground, and yet it has a musical effect which is very pleasant."

A FLYING SHIP.

BY ELLA RODMAN CHURCH.

Almost every one has read of Ezekiel Green and his flying machine, and a great many boys and men have been quite sure that they could manufacture wings which would enable them to fly.

As long ago as the reign of James IV. of Scotland an Italian who pretended to be able to change common metals into gold, and who wasted a great deal of the King's money in this way, but all to no purpose, "took in hand to fly with wings" as far as France, and to be there before the King's ambassadors, who travelled in the ordinary way. He had a pair of wings made of feathers, and when these had been fastened upon him he flew off the wall of Stirling Castle, but only to fall heavily to the ground, and break his thigh-bone.

The abbot of Tarryland (for so he had been created by the credulous King) declared that the blame of this failure should be laid upon the fact that there were _hen feathers_ in the wings, and that hens are more inclined to the barn-yard than the skies--a very ingenious way of defending himself; but it could not quiet the twinges in his broken limb.

Another experiment, which was made three hundred years later, was more successful. It was tried on a convict from the galleys, whose life was not thought too valuable to risk, and when ready for flight he must have been an object capable of frightening all the birds of the air. He was "surrounded with whirls of feathers, curiously interlaced, and extending gradually at suitable distances in a horizontal direction from his feet to his neck." When first launched from a height of seventy feet, his feelings could not have been enviable, and the great mass of spectators watched him in almost breathless silence. But instead of falling, he went down slowly, and landed on his feet, with no inconvenience except a feeling of sea-sickness.

Nothing seems to have come of it, as men are not flying through the air yet; but the Flying Ship may possibly have led to the balloon. This strange scheme made quite a sensation in the year 1709, and the first account of it was written in Portuguese. It was invented by a Brazilian priest, who wanted the King of Portugal to adopt it.

In an ancient document purporting to be an address made to this monarch we read: "Father Bartholomew Laurent says that he has found out an Invention, by the Help of which one may more speedily travel through the Air than any other Way either by Sea or Land, so that one may go 200 Miles in 24 Hours; send Orders and Conclusions of Councils to Generals, in a manner, as soon as they are determined in private Cabinets; which will be so much the more Advantageous to your Majesty, as your Dominions lie far remote from one another, and which for want of Councils cannot be maintained nor augmented in Revenues and Extent.

"Merchants may have their Merchandize, and send Letters and Packets more conveniently. Places besieged may be Supply'd with Necessaries and Succours. Moreover, we may transport out of such Places what we please, and the Enemy cannot hinder it."

This remarkable ship was made as nearly in the form of a bird as possible; the tail (not quite true to nature) being the stern, and the head the figure-head of the vessel. At the bottom were two queerly shaped wings "to keep the ship upright"; at the top, the sails, which rounded over like the body of the bird; the light body of the ship was scalloped at both ends, and in the cavity of each was a pair of bellows, to be blown when there was no wind; and there were globes of heaven and earth, two load-stones, and "a good number of large amber beads fastened in an iron wire net, which, by a secret operation, would help to keep the ship aloft."

The strange vehicle was supposed to accommodate ten or eleven men "besides the artist," and this last personage, "by the help of the celestial globe, a sea map and compass, takes the height of the sun, thereby to find out the spot of land over which they are on the globe of the earth." It was a very funny affair, but quite ingenious, considering how little the laws of gravitation, and many other things connected with the art of flying, were then understood; yet no such object has been seen making its way through the air, and a flying ship would be very apt to find itself on the ground or in the water.

THE NATIONAL GAME.

BY SHERWOOD RYSE.

Base-ball has long been recognized as the national game of this country, and if any one has any idea that cricket or lawn tennis or lacrosse is likely to put it into the background, that person should have been one of the twelve thousand persons who witnessed the great game between Princeton and Yale Colleges on Decoration-day.

If the play might have been better, the weather could not, and the enthusiasm and enjoyment of the immense crowd of spectators knew no bounds. Almost every one was decorated either with the blue of Yale or the orange of Princeton, for, as every boy who lives in the neighborhood of New York knows, the population of that great city and the neighboring cities, towns, and villages is divided into two parties, which are as enthusiastic about their favorite colleges as Republicans and Democrats are for their candidates at a Presidential election. "Are you Yale or Princeton?" one boy asks of another, and then, if the two boys prove to be of different parties, there follows a long argument about the merits of the two colleges, and however strong may be the facts brought forward, it always ends by one of the boys being convinced--that the other does not know much about foot-ball or base-ball, as the case may be, anyhow.

The rules of base-ball are very long and elaborate, and moreover, they are frequently altered. If we were to print them all, they would occupy at least six times as much space as this article. That being the case, we will not print them, and even if we did, very few of our readers would care to read them, for every American boy knows the principal rules, even though he may not be able to pass an examination in the whole code. Nor shall we attempt to describe the game as we have done with other less-known games. Like the Constitution, base-ball is one of the institutions of the country, but it has an advantage over that important document in the fact that the citizens of this country have mastered the art and science of base-ball (or think they have) long before they know anything about the Constitution. And so we will not describe or attempt to teach it, and if any of our young readers think that we are not treating them fairly by keeping back the valuable information with which, if the editor would allow it, we could fill the paper, we shall be much obliged if those young gentlemen will send their names and addresses to this office, when we will endeavor to refer them to some good authority on the subject.

Everybody knows by this time that in the great college game played on Decoration-day Yale beat Princeton easily. The fact is, the Princeton men were sadly wanting in sharp fielding, and fielding is the real science of the game. Your good fielder is always on the move. No matter where the ball may be, it will be in-field in a few seconds, and neither basemen nor short-stop must be caught napping.

Each man must be ready to support his fellow, and he must not think that because the ball does not come in his particular part of the field he need not trouble himself about it. Every player plays not for himself alone, but for his side, and it is in the perfect working together of the whole nine that the highest art of ball-playing consists. The basemen have their regular positions, but it must be remembered that the game is where the ball is, and that the fielder who can best reach the ball is the one who should field it.

One of the most important positions is that of short-stop. He is a kind of Jack-of-all-trades. He must be able to do the work of any of the in-fielders, to occupy a baseman's place when that person is fielding a ball, to "back up" the basemen, so as to cover any swift or widely thrown balls which they may be unable to reach, and to back up the pitcher, and so save him extra work in fielding balls returned to him by the catcher. The most eminent positions in a nine are, of course, those of pitcher and catcher, but the short-stop may have just as much enjoyment out of his part, and may do his side as much service as the more prominent players of the "battery."

It is not every one that can be a catcher. Like poets and wicket-keepers at cricket, the catcher is "born, not made." Because there is a catcher on every nine, it does not follow that every ninth man is one of these much-valued creatures whose excellence is due to instinct rather than to education. It is by no means the case that every person who writes verse is a poet, nor that every cricketer who stands behind the wicket is a wicket-keeper. A man may catch, but he is not therefore a catcher. If he has not a hand that acts directly with the eye, and an eye that sees almost before it has time to look--above all, if he shrinks from the swiftly darting ball, or winces as the bat is swung within a very few inches of his head--he will not make a catcher.

The kind of courage required for this position is very peculiar. It is not necessarily the sort of courage that would lead a man to jump into a mill-race to save another from drowning, nor is it especially the calm bravery that carries a soldier up to the ramparts behind which the enemy and perhaps death are lurking. But it is an admirable quality, and the chances are that the man who can control his nerves in the hazardous position of a base-ball catcher would not be found wanting when the time arrived for the exercise of his courage under even more trying circumstances.

The great Duke of Wellington said, as he watched the Eton boys playing cricket, "It was here that the battle of Waterloo was won," and though Waterloo is in Belgium and Eton in England, there was much truth in what the great commander said. The qualities which cricket brings out and educates (and it is fully as much so with base-ball) are qualities that make a man or boy courageous, quick to act in emergency, and loyal. These are the three qualities that are most desired in a soldier, and especially in one who is set over others.

When the American boy shall have become a man, and shall be placed in a position to test himself to see what kind of stuff he is made of, and finds that his courage, his resolution, his faithfulness, do not fail him, he may look back upon those happy afternoons spent on the base-ball field, and think how valuable an education he was working out for himself when he thought he was merely "having a good time."

The Postmistress thinks that every little reader will be interested in the letter from Alberto Dal M., who tells about a visit to Naples. She is very much pleased to hear from little travellers as well as from little stay-at-homes. The poem entitled "A Pansy Show" is the first attempt of the youthful writer. Our Post-office Box is quite sparkling this lovely summer day, with its letters, rhymes, and bits of information. Let nobody fail to read the amusing description of the wedding outfit of a Hindoo bride under the head of C. Y. P. R. U. After a long silence, we are pleased to receive another letter from Mrs. Richardson, of Woodside. We have not forgotten Uncle Pete and his Ida, nor the little school among the pines.

* * * * *

VENICE, ITALY.

This time I will tell the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE about my visit to
Naples. From our rooms I could see the lovely bay, and in the
distance the island of Capri, where there is a beautiful grotto.
One morning at seven o'clock I started for Vesuvius in a carriage
that had three horses for the mountain roads, and arrived at the
Observatory at about half past eleven. I would like to have gone up
by the railroad to the crater, but it was considered too dangerous,
as there had been an accident a short time before my visit. I went
into the Observatory, where visitors are not usually admitted.
There I saw many electric wires, one of which showed when Vesuvius
was throwing out stones. Even the slightest movement of the
mountain could be felt by this wire, which without it would be
unnoticed; another showed in which direction the movement was,
whether east, west, north, or south; and still another told when
the temperature changed.

There were many specimens of the different minerals thrown from
Vesuvius. Some were crystallized sulphur, some iron, some salt, and
some magnesia. Some of the lava when broken contained in the centre
a white substance which had the form of a flower, another piece
looked like a butterfly, and there were also some long white sticks
which resembled macaroni. I saw the instruments with which they
take up the hot lava; one was a kind of shovel, another a long pair
of pincers. All that I saw here interested me very much. The view
from the Observatory was magnificent. In the distance one could see
the whole city of Naples, and the mountain looked like a desert of
burnt wood. The lava which had been thrown out from different
eruptions covered the ground everywhere, and was in some places
heaped up very high in many curious forms. Some of the lava was
gray, some red, and some brown. I picked up several pieces to carry
home, also a few flowers which I found growing among the lava.

A few days after, I went to visit the ruined city of Pompeii. After
passing through one of the old gates of the city, I went into a
small museum, where I saw a few petrifactions and other things, but
most of the curiosities are at Naples, in the National Museum. The
streets of Pompeii are very narrow, paved with large blocks of
stone, and I could see the ruts made by the wagons before the city
was destroyed. I went into what was once a barber's shop, where
there was still a block of marble which had been used as a seat. I
saw a shelf there, and was told that a razor, a comb, and pomade
were found on it. In a baker's shop I saw an oven where loaves of
bread had been found. The houses were but one story high, and each
house opened into a court, from which it received its light, as the
rooms had no windows. Some of the frescoes on the walls were still
fresh.

ALBERTO DAL M.

* * * * *

DARTMOUTH, NOVA SCOTIA.

I began to take your paper last May, and like it very much. I often
read the letters in Our Post-office Box, and have often thought I
would like to write one. I have a little bird named Dicky, and he
is very tame. When I call him he will come to me, and often when I
am writing he will fly down and perch on my pen. I leave his cage
door open all the time, and he goes out and in when he likes. The
other day he was sick, and we thought he was going to die, but he
got well again the next day. I have a little baby brother a week
and three days old. This is my first letter to YOUNG PEOPLE.

VICTOR F.

* * * * *

GERMANTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA.

I am staying in Germantown with my aunt, and am having a lovely
time; and as I have not seen many letters from here, I thought I
would write and tell you about our place. We have a good many
chickens, six horses, and a very pretty pet cat. His name is
Pursius, but we call him Persie for a short name. He climbs up from
our back shed to the window-sill, and cries until we open the
window and let him in. Does not the Postmistress think him a smart
cat, I wonder? He does a good many more cute things, but it would
make my letter too long to tell them all. I do not go to school,
but study at home. I took lessons of a French mademoiselle in the
winter, and can talk a little in French. My favorite stories in
_Young People_ are "The Dolls' Dressmaker," "Toby Tyler," "Tim and
Tip," and "Phil's Fairies." I forgot to say that the woods are only
five minutes' walk from the house, and the apple-trees are all in
bloom, and I often take my little basket over to the woods and
gather it full of apple blossoms and dogwood flowers. My papa gave
me a pretty little watch on my last birthday.

MARGARET J.

* * * * *

A PANSY SHOW.

Three children sat in a row on a fence;
They knew not what to do;
They were tired of playing their old games,
And wished for something new.

They looked around with discontent,
'Till they saw the pansy bed,
Where each bright blossom, in purple and gold,
Was nodding its royal head.

Then one of the children cried aloud:
"Let's have a pansy show;
We can dress the flowers and make them look
Just like people, you know."

They gathered the velvet pansies,
And when dressed in green and white.
They were placed in groups on the smooth green grass--
It was truly a fairy sight.

They charged five pins admission
To see the wonderful flowers;
In this way they made great profits,
And spent many pleasant hours.

In summer you will see the pansies,
On their faces an eager glow,
Waiting to be picked by the children,
And placed in the flower show.

MYRA A. SCOTT.
CLEVELAND, OHIO.

* * * * *

NEWMARKET, TENNESSEE.

A kind uncle, away off in New Jersey, sends me HARPER'S YOUNG
PEOPLE. Unless you have been a little country girl ten years old,
like me, you can not imagine what pleasure it gives me, or how
eagerly I run to meet brother Bertram when he brings the mail on
Thursdays. Bertie, who is twelve years old, goes to school, while I
have to stay at home and help to take care of a baby brother and
sister (twins) so sweet and cunning that I wish you could see them.
The little boy is named after grandpa, and the girl after uncle
Jesse B., by adding an i to Jesse. Papa told me I must not use many
capital I's if I wrote you a letter; but how else can I tell you
that I ride six miles on horseback once a week, to take a music
lesson, on a dear old horse (we call her Kate) so faithful and true
that I am sure Toby Tyler and the boys would be delighted to have
her in their circus, but I can't spare her? Papa is a farmer, and
we make pets of colts and calves and lambs and pigs, but I do not
give as much attention to them as I do to books and the babies. I
have a little sister Dora, four years old, who came running in one
evening and said, "Mamma, the gipperwills are singing, and it is
time to go barefooted." She had been told that when the
whippoorwills sing there is no danger of catching cold. My home is
on a high location, overlooking a beautiful valley--a landscape
that never fails to please all who look upon it. Here, if I can not
go to school. I try to learn, and be happy and busy and helpful to
mamma.

GERTRUDE ELIZABETH W.

What fun it must be to take care of twins! Do they look very much alike, and how old are they? You ought to have said more about them, dear. Although you can not attend school, you are learning a great many pleasant things at home, as your letter shows. The I's are not too numerous. I shall think of Bertie carrying YOUNG PEOPLE home from the office on Thursdays, and fancy my little correspondent flying down the garden walk to meet him as he stops at the gate.

* * * * *

SPRINGFIELD, KENTUCKY.

My home is in Springfield. I have been wanting to write a letter
for the YOUNG PEOPLE since I first took it, which was last January,
but I was timid about doing it. My papa gave the paper to me as a
New-Year's gift, and I have had more than a dollar and a half's
worth of pleasure from it already. I have seen so much about "Toby
Tyler" in the letters, but have never seen anything about him in
the numbers, and my mamma reads everything in them to me; so please
tell me where to find him. I am seven and a half years old; have
never been to school, but am taught at home; will start in a week
or two. I am the only child, and mamma says she will be too lonely
without me; but I tell her she must let me learn and be a smart
little girl. I have a lot of pets: a beautiful Esquimau dog just
one year younger than I, a canary-bird, and a lot of the prettiest
little chickens; but my kitten has run away, or has been killed. He
was such a pet, because he was so smart, and performed so many
tricks. I am going to have a pony as soon as I learn to ride. I
have the money, given to me by my uncle; he gave me one hundred
dollars six months ago, and I loaned it to papa at ten per cent.
interest. I have written 'most too long a letter, but please
publish it if you can.

CARRIE S.

The story of "Toby Tyler" was begun in No. 58, Vol. II., of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. The same Toby is the hero of "Mr. Stubbs's Brother"; but if you are very anxious to read all the adventures of a little boy who was once so foolish as to run away from his kind uncle Daniel and travel with a circus, you must send for _Toby Tyler_, which the Messrs. Harper publish in a very pretty little book by itself. The price is $1. I hope you will enjoy school, and surprise mamma by learning very fast. When the pony is bought, you must write again, and tell me his name, and all about your charming rides.

* * * * *

WOODSIDE (NEAR LINCOLNTON), NORTH CAROLINA.

MY DEAR "YOUNG PEOPLE,"--It has been quite a while since I have
written a letter to you all. I had books and papers enough, thanks
to your kind help, and so I have not had any need to call upon your
generosity again. Our school, you will be glad to know, still keeps
on in a very encouraging way. I had only a few dollars sent for the
building, and had almost despaired of ever getting one, when one
day I received a letter from a very kind gentleman, who wrote that
if we were willing to give the land to the diocese, and build a
chapel, he could raise us money to do it. You may be sure we were
only too glad to do so, and he did his part very soon. We have the
building framed, all the lumber is ready, and the carpenter
promises that he will soon have it done. We have the windows, sent
by the same kind gentleman, of colored and ground glass, and the
rector in Lincolnton will give our school one service each month.
The people have no preaching now except from preachers of their own
race, who are often very ignorant men. We hope this will be a great
help in educating the children and their parents, and making them
good and happy. I will tell you about it when church begins. Your
friend,

MRS. RICHARDSON.

* * * * *

KAU, HAWAII, SANDWICH ISLANDS.

I like "Toby Tyler" and "Talking Leaves" the best of all the
stories. I have a pet rooster; his name is Whitehead, because when
little he had a white spot on the top of his head. He is so tame
that my little sister can take him by the tail and drive him all
around the yard like a dog, and he will not try to get away; and
when we have a bunch of bananas on the veranda hanging up over the
railing, he will fly up on the railing and pull the bananas off the
bunch, and drop them down for the hens that are on the ground below
him. I have a handsome parrot; he is yellow, green, blue, red, and
black. His name is Dandy, but he calls himself Polly.

We live about twenty-five miles from the volcano Kilauea, and every
night when I go to bed I look out of the window of my bedroom, and
can see the light of it, sometimes bright and sometimes faint.

MAY L. H.

Tell your sister to take hold of the rooster's tail very gently. He is very kind to pick bananas for the hens. Charlotte's letter, which came with yours, will appear in a future number.

* * * * *

TARRYTOWN, NEW YORK.

I am ten years old, and hope you will put my piece of poetry in the
poets' corner:

THE VIOLET.

It gently lifts its little head,
And looks up to the sun;
It hears the birds a-twittering,
And knows that spring has come.

It lives in quiet little nooks,
Where the sunbeams come and play;
It hears the crickets' cheerful chirp,
And sees them day by day.

And so this lovely little flower
Shows that spring has come;
But soon will wilt and fade away,
And then spring will be done.

MARGARET PRALL G.

* * * * *

MCCAINSVILLE, NEW JERSEY.

I enjoy reading your stories very much indeed, especially those
written by Jimmy Brown. There is a robin and a chippy-bird building
their nests on the honeysuckle vine that is climbing up our piazza.
The nests are about two feet apart. My brother Fred has about
twenty-two pigeons. They are so tame that they come in front of the
kitchen and pick up the crumbs of bread.

LIZZIE S. S.

* * * * *

NORWICH, CONNECTICUT.

I am a boy eight years old, and I can read and write a little, but
my aunt Daisy is writing this for me, because I do not form the
letters plainly yet. I must tell you about a pet pony I have. His
nose is pure white, while all the rest of him is jet black. I call
him Gip, and he will eat sugar, bananas, and cookies. He is very
small and cunning, and I ride him sometimes, with my papa holding
the bridle. Some time I hope I can ride him all alone. Besides Gip,
I have a canary called Funny, a dog which I have named Yum-yum, a
rabbit which we call Toodles, and a big Maltese cat called Thomas
Didymus. Don't you think I have a good many pets? I go to school
with my sister every day, and as it is a long distance from my
home, I always carry our lunch in a little basket, and we eat it at
recess. My little sister is only seven years old, and she can make
real pretty poetry. This is a little poem that she made all alone,
and we think it is very good. Will you please print it?

NELSON G.

MY KITTY.

How cunning does my Kitty play
With a spool, or a long string, all day!
She capers round in a pretty way,
As much as if she would say,
"Give me some milk, and let me drink
From a pan, all bright and gay,
And please, dear mistress, don't say nay.
Or surely I will run away,
And with you no longer stay.
Give me some milk, and let me drink."

Your pets have very droll names, Nelson, especially the doggie. Thank you for your nice letter, and for little sister's jingle, which is very well done for a girl who is only seven.

* * * * *

The children who are studying geography may hold up both hands. Shall I count them? No wonder you laugh. A Postmistress would be very clever indeed who could count the forest of hands which are waving gleefully in the air at this moment. What I hope is that every one of you will read this rhymed alphabet of countries; and if you do, and I hear that you like it, perhaps I'll be able to find another one for you some day in a corner of our box:

GEOGRAPHICAL ALPHABET FOR CHILDREN.

_A_ stands for _America_, our free, happy land,
And likewise _Arabia_, shrouded in sand;
While _B_ stands for _Belgium_, and mighty _Brazil_,
Which such a big place on the atlas does fill.
For _C_ we have _China_, and _Corsica_ too,
Where the Emperor Napoleon from infancy grew;
And _D_ is for _Denmark_, a brave little land,
Which gave birth to Andersen, charming and bland.
Next _E_ stands for _England_, a wonderful power,
And also for _Egypt_, where Pyramids tower;
And _F_ is for fertile and beautiful _France_,
The land of all chivalry, song, and romance.
For _G_ we have _Germany_, _Greenland_, and _Greece_,
Whose praises the poets to sing will ne'er cease;
While _H_ goes with _Holland_, a country most quaint,
Where they know how to fight, and they know how to paint.
For _I_ we find _India_, colossal, immense.
And _Ireland_, confused by its rows and its rents.
While _J_ goes with _Java_, and distant _Japan_,
Where for less than a penny they make you a fan.
_Kamtchatka_, I think, will do well for the _K_,
But it's awfully cold there, all travellers say;
While _L_'s for _Liberia_, owned by the blacks,
Who work in the fields till the sun burns their backs.
_M_ stands for _Morocco_ and far _Mozambique_,
Where the breezes are hot on the maiden's brown cheek.
For _N_, let me see, there's _Norway_, I'm sure,
Whose peasants come here a good place to secure.
And _O_ with _Ohio_ can go very well,
And its future of promise no dreamer can tell.
We have _Poland_ and _Persia_ and _Peru_ for _P_,
And big _Patagonia_, wild as can be,
While _Queensland_'s the best I can find for the _Q_,
And is famous for swans which are coal black in hue.
For _R_ there is _Russia_, the mighty and vast,
With a history stretching away to the past;
And _S_ is for _Sweden_, and _Sicily_ fair,
Where Mount Etna with lava oft darkens the air;
While _T_ stands for _Turkey_ and _Tunis_, you see;
And _U_ is for _Uruguay_, plain as can be.
For _V_, _Venezuela_, with forests and vales,
Will do very well; and the _W_ is _Wales_.
Near Japan there is _Ximo_, a beautiful isle,
Where Nature in all her green splendor doth smile;
While for _Y_ _Yucatan_ does most nicely exist,
And both _Zealand_ and _Zante_ can end the long list.

VOL AU VENT.

* * * * *

WARWICK, NEW YORK.

I am a little girl twelve years old. I attend a very pleasant
school not far from home, and have a good teacher. We read your
paper at school. We take sixteen numbers for one class. I think
Jimmy Brown's stories are the funniest. We read one paper through
in a week; and I am so glad when the first of the week comes, so
that we can have a new one. I enjoy reading the letters in your
paper very much; but I have never seen one from Warwick yet, so I
thought I would write one. I live on a farm not far from the
village, and it is a very pleasant place. Our school yard is very
large, and down at the lower end there is a creek, and there are
some very large trees on the bank, and we eat our dinner there in
the summer.

CARRIE B.

* * * * *

STOCKPORT, NEW YORK.

I send to you a queer dandelion. My little sister May picked it in
our yard yesterday. There is another growing on the same plant like
it. Please let me know if this is often met with; also, what you
think of it.

ROBBIE V. R. R.

We do not often find nine dandelions on one stem, but still they are sometimes found growing in clusters like the specimen Robbie sent. The Postmistress thinks them very curious when grouped in this way, and is glad to have looked at these.

* * * * *

NEW YORK CITY.

I am a little boy eleven years old, and I live in the great city of
New York. I took your paper by the advice of a friend, and love it
very much indeed.

I have a great many pets--a goat, two rabbits, three canary-birds,
and a Maltese kitten; but, better than all, there is my little
sister Elsie, who only came four months ago.

We are soon going into the country, and I expect to have a splendid
time playing in a little brook that runs through a field at the
back of the house. I hope all the boys and girls who write to Our
Post-office Box will have a pleasant vacation.

WILLARD R.

* * * * *

C. Y. P. R. U.

A HINDOO BRIDE.--No doubt the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE are pleased when they have an opportunity to look at the pretty wedding presents of a bride. A Bombay paper has lately printed an interesting description of the dowry of a young lady of Surat. She was the daughter of a native gentleman of high rank. According to custom, her outfit was sent before her to the house of the bridegroom. The long procession was led by a number of elephants, horses, and carriages. These were followed by a number of female servants, all in snow-white clothes, each bearing in her hands a covered tray. About fifty youths followed with rose-water decanters of silver on silver salvers. Then came five hundred coolies, some with magnificent bedsteads, with curtains, pillows, etc., others with swings, benches, boxes, cupboards of various designs, sofas, chairs, tables, and, in short, all the paraphernalia of a modern house. These were followed by seventy-five women, each carrying a tray of sweetmeats. One hundred men with cooking utensils brought up the rear. Some of these men carried on their heads basket-loads of lamps, wall shades, chandeliers, etc.

* * * * *

HILDA L.--Cloth cases, postage paid, for binding Vols. I. and II. of YOUNG PEOPLE, will be sent to your home in England, on application to Messrs. Harper & Brothers, for the sum of two shillings each.

* * * * *

Little Rosy Redcheek said unto a Clover,
"Flower, why were you made?
I was made for mother--
She hasn't any other;
But you were made for no one, I'm afraid."

Then the Clover softly unto Redcheek whispered,
"Pluck me ere you go."
Redcheek, little dreaming,
Pulled, and ran off screaming,
"Oh; you naughty, naughty flower, to sting me so!"

"Foolish one!" the startled bee buzzed crossly--
"Foolish not to see
That I make my honey
While the day is sunny;
That the pretty little clover lives for me."

* * * * *

MRS. I. B. R.--Thanks for your kindness in sending the composition of your gifted little pupil. The Postmistress has read it with interest, and thinks it shows real talent on the part of its youthful writer, as well as a habit of attention, which proves her teacher's faithful care. It is too long to be printed in Our Post-office Box.

* * * * *

A PRETTY PANEL PICTURE.--A very graceful and beautiful panel picture may be painted on a common slate. Paint the background in some neutral tint, or else have one shaded in color; those from dark brown to very light are effective. Use burnt umber and white. Be very careful indeed to shade gradually and evenly. Flowers may be grouped very prettily for panel pictures. A bunch of mountain-ash berries, a cluster of wheat heads and field daisies, a few sprays of wild roses, or a dainty little handful of buttercups, with grasses and clover, are any of them appropriate for a panel. The frames may be gilded, silvered, left in the color of the wood, or painted in a contrasting tint.

* * * * *

We would call the attention of the C. Y. P. R. U. this week to Miss Sarah Cooper's article on the "Portuguese Man-of-War," to the account of "A Wonderful Lake," and to "Wrens and their Nests," by Eesung Eyliss. The boys will not fail to be interested in what Sherwood Ryse has to say about Base-Ball.

* * * * *

PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

NUMERICAL ENIGMA.

I am composed of 15 letters, and am the name of a mountain in New
England.
My 9, 3, 5 is a cabin.
My 6, 2, 15, 5 is often said by naughty boys.
My 12, 3, 4 is a weapon.
My 1, 10, 8, 13 is a fog.
My 1, 10, 15, 5 is a plant.
My 12, 14, 7, 13 is an animal.
My 11, 2, 3, 15 is a part of speech.

ROGER D.

* * * * *

No. 2.

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

1. A sceptre with three prongs. 2. A vegetable. 3. A pretty name for a girl. 4. Power. 5. Nothing. 6. Obscurely. 7. A box. 8. To hinder. 9. An iron bar. Primals and finals are the names of three favorites of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE.

CHIPS.

* * * * *

No. 3.

HIDDEN BIRDS.

1. Hanc rows fast down the Fox River.
2. Where is Rob? In the garden, I suppose.
3. It rains now; birds are at home in their nests.
4. Carrie's wand was very pretty.
5. Oh, pshaw, Kitty, do not be so silly!

JOSEPHINE.

* * * * *

No. 4.

AN EASY WORD SQUARE.

1. To scream. 2. A giant. 3. A bird. 4. A fast.

* * * * *

No. 5.

TWO ENIGMAS.

1.

In beer, not in malt.
In vinegar, not in salt.
In young, not in old.
In plait, not in fold.
In ligament, not in band.
My whole an Eastern land.

2.

In forest, not in field.
In breastplate, not in shield.
In English, not in Dutch.
In little, not in much.
In inn, not in hotel.
In scream, not in yell.
In blacksmith, not in miller.
My whole a pointed pillar.

MAURICE E. W.

* * * * *

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 134.

No. 1.

1. Because it is the beginning of June. 2. A, because it makes _her hear_. 3. When it cannot bear you. 4. When it is a sky-light. 5. Because both are prized for their flour (flower). 6. Because it is of little use until it is broken.

No. 2.

Wind-lass.

No. 3.

M E
H O T E V E
M O R A L E V E N T
T A N E N D
L T

P T
N O T T O P
P O W E R T O N I C
T E N P I T
R C

No. 4.

S H A F T C R A N E
H O N O R R A V E N
A N K L E A V E R T
F O L D S N E R V E
T R E S S E N T E R

* * * * *

Correct answers to puzzles have been received from Frank Lomas, Emil S. Hirsh, H. E. Johnston, Jun., Florence Evans, Louise Best, Amy Vanderveer, John K. Thomas, C. L. T., Rose and Lily, "I. Scycle," Amy Kahn, Edward Haines, Gertie Childs, Blanche P. Heywood, Roger Derby, Willie Jones, Mary H. Hobart, William A. Lewis, Florence Cox, and Elsie M. D.

* * * * *

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

JUST OUT OF BED.

Six small maidens here you see.
Just as sweet as sweet can be;
Smiling, pouting, white, and red--
Little girls just out of bed.

When the birdies sought the nest,
Went these little ones to rest;
And they've wakened glad and gay
With the singing-birds to-day.

Would you like their names to guess?
Blanche and Dorothy and Bess,
Lottie, Lulu, Winifred:
Here they are, just out of bed.

* * * * *

"A BIRD IN HAND IS WORTH TWO IN THE BUSH."

This saying originated from the following circumstance: Will Somers, the celebrated jester to Henry VIII., happening to call at my Lord Surrey's, whom he had often, by a well-timed jest, saved from the displeasure of his royal master, and who consequently was always glad to see him, was on this occasion ushered into the aviary, where he found my lord amusing himself with his birds. Somers happened to admire the plumage of a kingfisher.

"By my lady," said Surrey, "my prince of wits, I will give it you."

Will skipped about with delight, and swore by the great Harry he was a most noble gentleman. Away went Will with his kingfisher, telling all his acquaintance whom he met that his friend Surrey had just presented him with it.

Now it so happened that my Lord Northampton, who had seen this bird the day previous, arrived at my Lord Surrey's just as Will Somers had left, with the intention of asking it of Surrey for a present to a lady friend. Great was his chagrin on finding the bird gone. Surrey, however, consoled him with saying that "he knew Somers would restore it him if he (Surrey) promised him two another day."

Away went a messenger to the prince of wits, whom he found in raptures with his bird, and to whom he delivered his lord's message. Great was Will's surprise, but he was not to be bamboozled by even the monarch himself.

"Sirrah," says he, "tell your master that I am obliged for his liberal offer of two for one, but that I prefer one bird in the hand to two in the bush."

Hence originated this oft-repeated saying.

* * * * *

PARLOR MAGIC.

THE FLYING DIME.

This trick must be frequently practiced before it is produced in public. Borrow two colored silk handkerchiefs from the company, and have three dimes in your hand, but only show two, keeping the other one firmly fixed against the first joint of the second and third fingers. You must also have a fine needle and thread stuck inside the cuff of your coat.

Then take one of the handkerchiefs and put in both dimes, but pretend that only one is in the handkerchief; then put the handkerchief into a hat, leaving one corner hanging out. Now hold the third dime (which the spectators imagine is the second), and ask one of the company to lay the second handkerchief over it. You then ask him to hold the dime tight between his finger and thumb, whilst you twist up the handkerchief. While doing so, with both hands concealed under the handkerchief, you pass a few stitches under the dime, and replace the needle.