Chapter II: Part 2

The milk was now inquired for, and, to the consternation of several of the boys, was reported missing.

"Whew!" said Tom, "you Stanleys are getting off cheap. However, it is my treat, so I will say nothing. Can't you make a cake without milk, Bob?"

"Yes, just as easy. You can use water, but you ought to have had your kettle boiling."

Tom hastily emptied his bedroom pitcher into the kettle, and set it among the blazing logs.

"Now, Bob, fire away. Let us see what kind of a baker you will make."

Bob pulled off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and pinned a towel round his waist. He then looked around for the flour, of which a large bowlful had been procured.

"I guess," he said, "since so many eggs are gone, I had better not venture on so much flour. Give me the bowl, Tom."

"Do you boil the eggs first, Bob?"

"I--guess--not. They mix up better raw;" and he began to break the eggs into the flour.

"Don't forget the molasses," said Tom, proudly displaying a heavy jug. "It was cheap; so I got a plenty."

"That is lucky. Cake can't be too sweet for me." And Bob stopped breaking eggs to pour a generous stream of strong black molasses into the bowl.

"I tell you what, boys," he added, "all our trouble would have gone for nothing if I hadn't just happened to remember the soda at the last minute, and bought a quarter of a pound. I think I will put it all in, to make up for the milk, you know."

"I've got something for the cake," said John Stanley, and he produced from his pocket a handful of raisins.

"Magnificent!" said all the boys, their mouths watering at this unexpected addition to the feast.

"Dash them in, John. Now where is the spoon to stir with?"

"A spoon! I did not think of that," said Tom. "You ought to have given me a list of all the things you would want, Bob."

"Well, we have got to have something to stir it with. A stick would be better than nothing." And he began to look among the logs.

"How would the handle of my tooth-brush do?" asked Tom, resolved to go to every length which hospitality demanded of him.

"Why don't you try your jackknife?" suggested Dick.

"Well, here goes," said Bob, and he began stirring vigorously; but it was stiff work, and made little impression.

"There is something wrong," said Bob, standing back to view his work, and think. "What else was I to put in? Oh! the water, of course."

Half a kettleful was put in, and the stirring now went on swimmingly, and Bob's mind became sufficiently free from present anxiety to strike forward into the future far enough to wonder what the cake was to be baked in. He asked Tom.

"A skillet," returned Tom, waving that article over his head triumphantly.

"All right."

In a few minutes the process of mixing was pronounced complete, the batter was poured in, the skillet set upon a bed of glowing coals, and its lid covered with another supply of them. But after the table was all arranged, and the boys had time to look about and think, it seemed as if they were going to have a very poor party after all. "Nothing but that cake! And it is not a large cake either."

"Why couldn't we make molasses candy?" suggested John.

The boys gave three cheers for John. "You are the fellow, John, to think of things."

So the kettle of boiling water was emptied back into the pitcher, and the molasses poured into the kettle and set over the roaring fire.

"How long is it going to take that cake to bake, Bob? I am as hungry as a bear," said Fred.

Bob cleared the coals off the skillet lid and peeped in. "It has puffed up beautifully, boys. I guess it is about done."

"Dish up, then. We are all ready."

The cake was turned out into a large plate in the centre of the table, and the boys seated themselves to enjoy their well-earned feast.

"What kind of a cake do you call it, Bob? It looks more like a plum-pudding than anything else. It rounds up so, and is stuck all over with raisins."

Bob plunged his knife in. Whew! It went in like the knife into the pie of which Tom Thumb had eaten out the contents. The beautifully rounded surface fell flat.

The boys were astonished.

"What makes it so hard to cut?"

"I don't know," said Bob, desperately, stopping to whet his knife on his shoe. "There, taste it;" and he pulled off some pieces of the leathery stuff.

"Ugh!" "Horrible!" "What stuff!" "Shoe-leather is nothing to it!" "It is as bitter as rhubarb!" "Why, he said he knew how to make cake!" "Where did you take your diploma?" were the exclamations that went round the table.

Then there was silence. Bob seemed particularly moody, and the others cast black looks at him as they pushed their chairs back from the Barmecide feast.

At that moment a loud hissing sound was heard from the fire. The molasses was boiling over.

Tom flew to the rescue; but too late. The kettle had tilted over on the unstable logs, and the molasses was pouring into the flames and rolling over the carpet like lava from a volcano. The room was filled with flying soot, ashes, smoke, and a horrible smell of burned molasses. The boys stood looking on in helpless consternation.

"Hi--yi!" screamed Dick, suddenly leaping upon a chair.

"What is the matter?" asked the frightened boys in chorus.

"My feet are burned with that boiling hot molasses."

Sure enough. A stream of molasses had found its way to Dick's shoeless feet.

"Open the windows, and let out this horrid smoke," cried Tom.

It was soon done, and the cold air came rushing in. The smoke began to clear; but a terrific roaring was heard in the chimney.

"Boys, I do believe the chimney is on fire," said Fred, in a hoarse whisper.

It was too true. The boys ran wildly about the room, picking up chairs and anything they could lay hold of to put the fire out with, and then discarding them as useless.

Just then the door opened, and Edward Fleming, the eldest of the ten, said, sternly, "Boys, what does all this mean?"

There was no need of answer. He comprehended the case at once. "Shut the door and windows," he cried. Then seizing a loose piece of carpet from the floor, he threw it upon the flames, and the danger was over in a moment.

The boys expected a first-class scolding after this, but they were agreeably surprised. Edward solemnly told the Stanleys that their aunt Sue had sent for them, and the boys slunk away to bed. But they spent all their play-time for the next week in cleaning up Tom's room and their own clothes, and in getting things to rights again.

"I never knew before how much trouble it is to make cake," said Bob. "It must be pretty hard on Aunt Sue and the girls to bake so much for us."

"Yes," said Dick, "and we are getting too big, anyhow, to care for such things."

And it was remarked in the family that the boys' old attachment to cake waned about the time of the private tea party in Tom Fleming's room.

Here is a puzzle that will interest the boys and girls that are far enough advanced to know something of astronomy. The wee tots will not be able to make much out of it, for the stars and the astronomers seem to have been given hard names from the time of Tycho Brahe down to Sir John Herschel. There will be a large number of bright minds among the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE, however, whose exploits on examination days will make it an easy matter for them to transpose the "pi" into the right word every time. "Pi," it may be stated for the benefit of those who are not familiar with the term, is the name that printers give to type that somebody has knocked into complete disorder after it was all nicely set up and ready for printing.

To begin with, we have a little story in verse, containing twenty-two names. The stars in each line must be replaced by appropriate letters. When these letters are mixed together they will form the "pi." Then by transposing them we obtain the required name of planet, astronomer, or cluster. No other letters can be used. Each verse has but one large initial, every line of a verse beginning with the same letter. The small stars around the acrostic initials have no bearing on the puzzle whatever.

PROLOGUE.

First line, a planet; second line, two planets; third line, a term used in connection with the moon; fourth line, another term used in connection with the movements of the moon.

FIRST VERSE.

First line, a term used in speaking of an eclipse; second, third, and fourth lines combined, three planets, and the name of a foreign astronomer.

SECOND VERSE.

First line, a part of the moon; second line, a form of eclipse; third and fourth lines combined, a man who made a discovery of great value to astronomers, and secondly, a foreign astronomer.

THIRD VERSE.

First line, a cluster of stars; second line, an English discoverer of a satellite; third and fourth lines combined, a term applied to uncertain stars, a titled astronomer, and a planet.

FOURTH VERSE.

First line, the birth-place of a great astronomer; second and third lines combined, an astronomical phenomena; fourth line, a cluster of stars.

BITS OF ADVICE.

BY AUNT MARJORIE PRECEPT.

PICNICS.

The first thing necessary to a successful picnic is a plan. You must know who are to compose the party, where you intend to go, and what you can do to amuse yourselves when you get there. Then, too, you must have what in armies is called a commissary department, which shall see about the provisions. A picnic without a dinner would be very dull.

Two or three days before the event, the boys and girls who wish to spend some long bright summer hours together in the woods or park should ask their parents' advice about a good place.

A place to be good should be safe, beautiful, and not too far from home. If not within walking distance, it is well to know whether it can be easily reached by boat or cars, or by stage or carriage. You should find out beforehand precisely how much it will cost to convey the party to the spot. Then select a treasurer, who shall pay all expenses, buy tickets, and take charge of the funds. The treasurer must keep an exact account of everything he or she may spend, putting it down in writing, that a report may be given at the proper time.

Your fathers or teachers will usually be able to warn you against dangerous places, or those which are too public to be pleasant for a little picnic party.

As a rule, you should not admit strangers or acquaintances picked up on the way to share your frolic. It is always best to keep the party strictly to its original numbers.

There are two ways of providing the luncheon. One is to decide in advance what each shall bring as his or her contribution, so that there may not be too large a quantity of one article, and too little of another. John may be told to bring lemons, Janie may furnish pound-cake, Alice biscuits and butter, Louis sugar, and Mabel sandwiches. Or each of the company may provide a nice basket of food, and when the time comes for the meal everything may be shared, and the table spread for the general feast. I think I like the latter way quite as well as the former.

Hard-boiled eggs, potted meats, thin slices of ham or tongue, cold chicken, and plenty of good bread and sweet butter, are among the must-haves. Picnic appetites are famous, and you need plenty of the "substantial." Jelly in little glasses, fruit, cake, and, if mother says so, a few of her delicious pickles or an apple-pie do not prove as indigestible when eaten out-doors as they do under other circumstances.

Do not forget the salt. Nor the pepper. Bottles of milk wrapped in cabbage leaves or set into a pan of ice for coolness are not to be overlooked.

Be sure there is a spring near your picnic ground, or an old well on some kind man's farm. If it have a long sweep and a deep moss-grown bucket, so much the better.

Do not trespass on anybody's private grounds. Always send a committee to the house to ask permission to help yourselves to water from the well, or to pass through fields and lanes not open to the public.

The girls must remember that so far as possible all picnic preparations should be made the day before. It is not well to leave cooking for the morning of the day when you are to go.

The boys, too, should have their fishing-tackle in readiness overnight. If swings are to be put up, a man should be engaged to see about them, or at least the oldest and most trustworthy boys of the party should see that the ropes are firm, and the tree branches stout. Nothing is more terrible in its consequences than a fall from a swing.

Always leave the grounds in time to reach home before dark. Take wraps for the cool of the day.

Be polite, unselfish, and very good-natured and kind.

I hope your picnic parties may be very delightful, and that nobody may do as I once did on such an occasion.

Five of us, Henry, Belle, Jennie, Nellie, and I, went to spend the day at a lovely spot a little way from the city. As the eldest of the number, the luncheon basket was committed to my care. I kept it by me, and with a charming book sat and read until the little steamboat stopped at its landing. Then we all rushed off, and the boat puffed away up the river. Presently said one of the group:

"Why, Marjorie Precept, what have you done with the basket?"

Sure enough! I had left it on the boat.

There is no use of trying to tell you what the rest of the party said to me. Imagine for yourselves five hungry boys and girls, with the appetites that are gained by a sail on a steamboat, defrauded of the delicious luncheon prepared for them by my carelessness.

We did not get that basket again for three days. Well, what I suffered has been a good lesson to me. Nowadays I know how to go picnicking, as I hope you will agree from the directions I have tried to give.

Robins in the tree-top,
Blossoms in the grass,
Green things a-growing
Everywhere you pass;
Sudden little breezes,
Showers of silver dew,
Black bough and bent twig
Budding out anew.
Pine-tree and willow-tree,
Fringed elm and larch--
Don't you think that May-time's
Pleasanter than March?

* * * * *

SOUTH NORWALK, CONNECTICUT.

I want to tell you how to make a little winter garden next fall.
Fill a small box with earth, and in it plant ferns and mosses, put
a small looking-glass in it for a lake, get your brother to make a
glass frame to fit over the top, and you will have a lovely garden
when the ground is covered with snow.

These warm sunny days make me think the wild flowers will soon be
here. First the violets, blue and white, sweet-scented--the fields
back of the school-house will be covered with them; then
adder's-tongue, dandelions, anemones, and many others, with the
bees humming among them. You ought to see what nice salads we make
of the leaves of adder's-tongue and dandelions. How often I wish
that I could send flowers to the sick children in the hospitals, if
the express would only carry them free on the railroad!

Dear YOUNG PEOPLE, I have a brook near my school-house; it widens
and narrows, and makes a great noise. By-and-by it will be full of
tadpoles, or young frogs, and the apple-trees near it loaded with
blossoms. I am glad I live in the country. It is all very well for
you city people to have nice parks and picture-galleries; but I
have the nicest pictures, a different one each way I look.

JESSIE B.

* * * * *

LOWELL, MASSACHUSETTS.

I am a boy eight years old. When I was up at Greenville, N. H., I
was out in the meadow, and they were cutting the grass, and I had
lots of rides on the team. The man that was mowing told me that
there were some moles under a tree on a large rock, and I went and
looked under every tree in the field, and I asked him again, and he
went with me, and they were all around in the grass, and the man
had to pick them out of the grass, and they were no bigger than my
thumb. I put them in a little pail, and I filled the pail with soft
thistle blows, and I kept the moles three days, and then I put them
under a stone wall, and the next day my father and I took a walk,
and I asked him to come and see if they were under it, and so we
went down, and the bed that I fixed for them was all torn to
pieces, and I suppose the mother did it.

RALPH P.

* * * * *

HARRISBURG, PENNSYLVANIA.

Perhaps some of the little girls who read the YOUNG PEOPLE would
like to know something about a Cooking Club which seven little
Harrisburg girls had last winter.

Two weeks before Christmas we met, and decided that we would have a
lunch every two weeks, on Saturday afternoon, at the house of each
in turn. Every girl was to bring some dish which she herself had
cooked at home. Of course a great many of the dishes had to be
superintended by the mammas or cooks.

The President always sat at the head of the table, and carved the
meat, while two of the girls waited on the table. We wore large
white aprons and muslin kerchiefs, and made our badges of red
ribbon, with "R. S. C.," the initials of the club, worked on it.

We had seven lunches, but now that the pleasant spring weather has
come, we have given up the club until next year.

I have taken YOUNG PEOPLE since it began, and I read it always with
great pleasure. I think "Talking Leaves" was splendid, and I wish
Mr. Stoddard would write some more stories.

EMMA D. B.

Your little club not only gave you some happy hours, but I am sure you learned useful lessons while playing at cooking. If you resume the meetings next winter, you must write and tell us some of your bills of fare.

* * * * *

UTICA, NEW YORK.

We take HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, and read the stories in it every
week. We are much interested in "Mr. Stubbs's Brother." We like the
letters very much, and like to read about every one's pets. I will
tell you about a cat I once had; his name was Nimpo Ganges. He was
a very large gray and white cat. One day my sister had a little
kitten given to her. At the sight of a strange kitten Nimpo was
very indignant, and left his comfortable home here for another! One
day I went to see my aunt, who lives a few doors above us, and she
told me of such a beautiful cat that had come to live with her. On
seeing it, imagine my surprise to find it Nimpo Ganges! He never
came home again to live, for after calling on us two or three
times, and finding the kitten still here, he went to live with
auntie. He is a great pet with every one up there except the
neighboring cats and dogs.

LAURA J.

A very remarkable cat. He would not share his home with a stranger. Cats are said to be very strongly attached to places, and less fond of people than dogs are, but Sir Nimpo had a mind of his own, and chose his home for himself, did he not?

* * * * *

BOWLING GREEN, OHIO.

In a recent number of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE there was an article on
"Marbles," and this week I am going to write about them. Almost
every boy knows how to play marbles by making a trench about an
inch deep and a foot long. The distance for the marble to roll
should be nine or ten feet. As many boys as choose to can play at
this game, and the one whose marble goes in the trench, or the
nearest to it, takes the others' marbles. If there is a tie, of
course they have to begin over again.

Span is another very interesting game. Only two can play this. The
one who plays first throws his marble against something, like a
wall, so that it bounds back again; then the other boy follows him,
and if the marble falls near enough to the first one to span the
difference, or distance between the two, both marbles are his; if
he can not span the distance, each boy keeps his own marble, and
they reverse the order in which they played before.

I am a little boy ten years old, and have taken YOUNG PEOPLE almost
two years. I liked "Toby Tyler" very much, also almost all of the
other stories, but I think Jimmy Brown's letters are best of all;
it seems to me every boy must sympathize with him.

EDDY F.

I wish I could persuade Eddy and all the other boys to return whatever marbles they may win as soon as their games are finished. Then nobody's feelings will be hurt.

* * * * *

BRUNSWICK, MISSISSIPPI.

We have only three pets, a dog named Cricket, a cat named Maxie,
and a pigeon; I have not named the latter yet, for I want to ask
some of the readers of this paper to please tell me some pretty
name.

I want to tell you about the high water in the Mississippi Valley.
It was not quite over our gallery, and it is nearly all gone out of
our yard now. I felt so sorry for the poor people who were
suffering so in the raging billows of our beautiful river. We have
all been so thankful to God for saving us from a watery grave.
There has been but one life lost here, and that was that of a man
in a tricky dug-out. We have several boats, or dug-outs. I will
tell you the names of them--the _Arkansas Toothpick_, the _Box-toed
Slipper_, and the _Bob Lee_. We have a flat, but we do not think it
requires a name. I can paddle a dug-out. The boys get many a
"ducking."

MAGGIE LELA H.

* * * * *

BEECH ISLAND, SOUTH CAROLINA.

I am a little boy eight years old. I do not go to school, but I am
taught at home. I can read, spell, and cipher very nicely. My mamma
and nurse read YOUNG PEOPLE to me. When nurse read Georgie B.'s
letter to me, in the Easter number, I could not keep still. I was
thinking of him scrambling through Coral Cave. He must write again.
Mamma is going to have all the numbers bound at the end of the
year. I have three sisters and two brothers, and a father and
mother, who love to read your paper. I have no pets. I have two
vegetable gardens, one here and one at the plantation, eight miles
off, and they keep me busy. Nurse is writing this for me. I love
the poetry in YOUNG PEOPLE, and want to hear it all read. My sister
reads it for herself, and soon I expect to do so too.

EDWARD E.

* * * * *

KILLEGNEY PARSONAGE, ENNISCORTHY, IRELAND.

I like the paper very much. Our dog Quiz has three pups; we are
going to give them away. My pony is being trained; it will soon be
tame enough to ride. We are busy at our gardens. I put some
primroses in mine yesterday. I am to get a larger garden soon. I
like "Talking Leaves." Pappy reads it out to mother and us. Uncle
William sends it to me, and _St. Nicholas_ to Godfrey; he is my
brother. I have three sisters--May, Ida, and Ella.

IVAN M.

* * * * *

WARRENTON, VIRGINIA.

There are a good many mocking-birds that sing around our house, and
imitate all kinds of sounds. One time we thought one of our dogs
had taken our play reins, and was shaking them about, making the
bells ring. Another time we thought we heard a little chicken
peeping, so I ran all over the yard looking for it, until I saw the
mocking-bird up in a tree, and he was making the sound, and I
believe he did it just for fun, to see me hunt for the little
chick. I give names to all our little chickens. I named one
Harper's because it was weakly; but it has grown strong now, and I
hope next year it will have some little chicks of its own, and then
we will call them Harper's Young People. I wish Mrs. California
would tell some more about Carlie; he must be so cute.

MARGIE.

* * * * *

WASHINGTON, D. C.

I have four little brothers, named John, Billy, Harry, and Tom.

We have a dog which is very smart. He will turn a somersault
backward, and stand on his head. We also have a little donkey three
feet high, which we ride; but she will not let anybody else ride
her, as she will stand up on her behind legs and jump, _really_. We
have a pigeon that will eat meat and sweet-potatoes, and can sing.
Don't you think that is queer?

I am seven years old, and I wrote this all by my own self. Please
put it in the letter-box.

Your loving little reader,

HIC H. T.

You write so plainly and make such beautiful capital letters that you deserve ten good marks, dear.

* * * * *

Hammer away,
Blithe and gay.
Work whilst you work,
Play whilst you play:
And the rust must be moved
And the shield kept bright,
For the battle of life which we
All have to fight.

* * * * *

LOCKPORT, NEW YORK.

I have never seen any letters from this city, so I thought that I
would write to you. I like the stories very much, especially "The
Little Dolls' Dressmaker." Last evening we tried the game of
Anagrams, and found it very amusing. My pet is a great big
Newfoundland shepherd dog, and his name is Rob Roy. One day some
one rang the front-door bell, and on going to the door we found it
to be Rob. He does it quite often now. I am almost thirteen years
of age. I send a puzzle to you. Good-by.

ADA M. F.

The puzzle is a clever one, and will duly appear. Thank you.

* * * * *

NORTH ADAMS, MASSACHUSETTS.

I live in a small town two miles from North Adams; it is a nice
place to live. The north branch of the Hoosac River runs behind my
house, and in summer we fish there, and it is fine fun to catch
trout and suckers. My father and uncle run a woollen mill, and
sometimes I go down to the mill and pack the goods in boxes to be
sent off. My sister Amy and I ride to school every morning, and
home again every night. We have a nice place to slide in winter,
but not a very nice place to skate. I go down on the south branch
of the Hoosac, where all the boys of North Adams go.

KELLER B.

The next time you catch a splendid big trout, you must send the Postmistress word. I am glad you work as well as play.

* * * * *

REYNOLDSVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA.

I am a little girl nine years old. I have two sisters--Bessie the
oldest, Tirzah the youngest. We used to live in Philadelphia, but
we came to Reynoldsville last summer. We had no pets in the city,
but we have a good many here. Bessie has a canary, Tirzah a cat,
and I have a dog. I had a dove, but it flew away. There was a
beautiful Maltese cat here when we came, and she has a darling
little kitten. My papa is superintendent of a saw-mill, and he
often takes us to the mill. We have ten horses, which we ride from
the watering-trough to the stable almost every evening. A swing is
put up for us in the barn. The other day we went to the woods for
wild flowers, and we found violets, anemones, wild phlox, and a
flower that looked just like mamma's dyletra, only it was white.

M. LOUISE N.

I think the three little sisters have a merry life. I hope they will study botany, and learn to what classes of plants the beautiful wild flowers they gather belong.

* * * * *

OSWEGO, NEW YORK.

I live in Oswego, which is on Lake Ontario, and in summer I go
fishing on the Oswego River, and catch lots of fish. My papa has a
yacht and row-boats, and is teaching me to row. I have a stamp
album with over two thousand stamps. Last summer I went to the
Thousand Islands, and had a lovely time. We reached Cape Vincent
about six o'clock; there took a steamer to Alexandria Bay. The
islands were beautifully illuminated. I went to the Indian camp,
and saw them make canoes and baskets. I have two canary-birds, and
a dog named Fritz. I have a large garden, with all kinds of
flowers. I liked "Toby Tyler" and "Tim and Tip," and am glad Mr.
Otis is going to write another story. I have been to New York
twice, and like to ride on the elevated railroad.

L. W. M.

I do not wonder you enjoy riding on the elevated railroad. Sometimes, as I sit in one of the cars, and am whisked along so fast past the windows and over the roofs, I think of the old fairy stories. The enchanted carpet used to transport its owner from place to place in a moment; and these railroads, so high in the air, are very much like enchanted carpets in their effect; only the power which moves them is steam, and we might never have known the wonderful things steam can do if a bright-eyed boy named James Watt had not long ago sat and watched the spout of his mother's tea-kettle.

* * * * *

SOUTH SCITGATE, RHODE ISLAND.

I am a little girl nine years old. I live with my grandpa and
grandma in the country. They are over seventy years old. I try and
help grandma about the house. My papa and mamma live in Providence,
which is thirteen miles from here. My papa is a photographer. I had
a great many pretty things Christmas, but I think the most of my
doll. Her name is Flossie. She has very light hair, and her eyes
will shut. She is dressed in baby clothes, like a real live baby. I
have six other dolls, but they are old ones. I had a canary-bird
named Topsy, but the cat killed it one day. I put it in a box, and
buried it in the yard. I have a stone at the head of the grave, and
I keep it decorated with flowers.

Mamma has come out to see me, and is writing this letter for me. I
can write some, but I live a mile from school, and only go in the
summer. I have no brothers or sisters, so I have to get along with
pets. I have two bantam hens; they lay little eggs, and I eat them
all. Grandpa has a large farm, and we have hens, geese, cows, and a
horse named Dan. I have been out to-day, and got a large bunch of
trailing arbutus for mamma to take to the city with her. Mamma has
sent me HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE over a year. I think "Toby Tyler,"
"Tim and Tip," and "Cruise of the 'Ghost'" are splendid, but the
letters in Our Post-office Box from the little boys and girls I do
love so much! I don't see many from Rhode Island, and I do hope our
dear Postmistress will publish mine. I hope it is not too long.
Good-by.

EVA T. P.

How glad I am that the dear old people have a bright little granddaughter to live with them, and be their sunbeam!

* * * * *

ROCHELLE, ILLINOIS.

I am a little girl ten years old. I have a piano, and I take music
lessons. I like "Mr. Stubbs's Brother." I always read the
Post-office Box, and enjoy it. I have a large box full of
advertising cards. I see that some of the children tell about their
pets, so I will tell you about my cat. I keep his catnip in the
table drawer, and when he wants it he goes on top of the table and
smells in the drawer, so some one opens it for him, and he gets in,
takes the catnip in his paws, jumps out, and goes over on the
lounge and eats it.

I hope you will publish this, because I wrote one before, and it
was not published. I have been in the grove, and I found some
bloodroots and other flowers.

GRACE G.

What a sensible cat! Do you take medicine as willingly as he does? But then a little girl who goes to the grove and gathers wild flowers, and lives out-doors in the fresh air as much as she can, does not often need catnip or any other herb.

* * * * *

I am a little girl eleven years old. I live in the city of Buffalo,
which is on Lake Erie. There is a fort near the lake, and sometimes
in summer I go out there and to the parks with some of my
playmates, and have a nice time. There is a large hill at the fort
too, and I think it is fun to run down it. I go to school, and am
in the Third Reader, and study intellectual and practical
arithmetic, spelling, geography, language lessons, and German. Can
the editor speak German? If he can, and will write me a letter, I
will answer it. My grandma sends me HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, and I
think it is a very nice paper for children, and my mamma and papa
think so too. For pets we have a dog, a cat, and three little
kittens, which are now trying to get out of the basket and run
around. I am collecting picture cards, and have over nine hundred.
If any little boy or girl would like to exchange with me, please
address,

HELEN M. SISSON,
183 Maryland St., Buffalo, N. Y.

Helen has so much more time than the editor of YOUNG PEOPLE, that the better way will be for her to send her German letter, and let us see how well she can write in that language, which we are very glad she is studying. What a number of lessons our little nine, ten, and eleven year old friends have to learn, to be sure! And the queerest thing about it, dears, is that, no matter how old we may grow, we shall still have lessons to learn, and some of them harder than those you find in your Third Readers and language lessons.

* * * * *

AWAY FROM HOME.--Children, how would you like to have been passengers on the British steamer _Glamorgan_, which arrived in Boston Harbor on the morning of the 1st of May? She reported that on April 25, latitude 46 deg. 20', longitude 42 deg. 30', she passed an iceberg fully five hundred feet high. On the iceberg were a number of polar bears. Now please take your maps, and trace the route by which these travellers must have come from the arctic seas to reach the part of the Atlantic where the _Glamorgan_'s passengers saw them. Where is latitude 46 deg. 20', and longitude 42 deg. 30'? Whose little finger will point to it first? But the GLAMORGAN's adventures were not ended. On April 26 she ran into a field of ice, and steaming along its southern edge, she passed one hundred large icebergs, on which were polar bears and seals, taking their ease quite comfortably. I wonder what the polar bears thought of the strange world into which they were drifting southward, poor things?

* * * * *

C. Y. P. R. U.

OUR LITTLE POETS' CORNER.--We group together several bits of verse received from little poets. The first is written by a dear child who has only seen eight summers:

SUMMER.

Summer is near, O summer is near;
Winter leaves with a good-by cheer;
The grasses sprout,
And the trees bloom out--
Summer is near, O summer is near.

The birdies do sing, O the birdies do sing!
And so loud the merry bells ring!
For summer brings
Such beautiful things;
Summer is near, O summer is near!

DAISY SEVERANCE, Middlebury, Vt.

The author of "Thistle-Down" is only eleven, and her little poem is very sweet too:

THISTLE-DOWN.

Over the fields of waving corn,
Over the hill-tops brown.
Sailing along in fairy grace,
Floateth the thistle-down.

Flying past the meadows bare,
Catching on grasses brown,
Like airy films from cobwebs torn,
Floateth the thistle-down.

Drifting past the old oak-tree,
Drifting past the town;
Further than any eye can see,
Floateth the thistle-down.

On the blue of the sky afloat,
A dainty craft is this seedling brown,
Manned by the loveliest fairy crew,
Guiding the thistle-down.

Fairy forms in sunbeams dressed,
With rainbow hues caught down.
Sailing away in their elfin glee.
They guide the thistle-down.

ELIZABETH MORTON BOYCE, Chicago, Ill.

Dora, whose rhyme about the streamlet is quite merry and musical, is also eleven:

THE STREAMLET.

How lovely is the little stream
That babbles on and on
Through many a field and woodland too
This little stream has gone.

There by the stream the sun looks down,
And the many sunbeams play,
Oh, happy are the breezy woods
On that sweet summer day!

And just before it joins the lake--
Nor does it miss it ever--
This little stream another meets,
And they go on together.

In its mossy bed the streamlet
Glides on through valleys low,
In sweet contentment flowing
Where the lovely flowers blow.

The glowing sun fades out of sight,
The moon and stars appear,
All is silent now, and quiet,
For the shades of night are near.

But the stream is onward gliding,
Never does it pause to rest,
Gliding onward, onward swiftly,
To seek the lake's deep breast.

DORA CUMMING, Newport, Ky.

* * * * *

Who would like to perform this amusing trick, which is called Water Bewitched?

Take an ordinary dinner plate, and fill it with water; then produce a small empty phial, and assure the company that you are wizard enough to pour water through the solid bottom. Having declared that the phial must be _perfectly_ dry when the experiment is performed (if you are asked why, you may say to open the pores of the glass), thrust a stick into it, and hold it to the fire until it is very hot--too hot to hold. Then stand it, without delay, mouth downward in the plate of water. Then pour a tea-spoonful of water on the bottom of the phial, as if you meant to fill it that way, and every time you do this the phial will become more and more filled with water; and as this apparently takes place every time you pour water on the bottom, it will have every appearance of having passed through the solid glass. Of course the water really rises from the plate by what is called capillary attraction.

* * * * *

We would call the attention of the C. Y. P. R. U. this week to "Some Diamond Stories," and to the account of Commander De Long and his terrible death among the ice-fields of the North, as told by Sherwood Ryse under the title of "The Victims of the Arctic Seas." Then Aunt Marjorie Precept has some wise advice to give about "Picnics."

* * * * *

PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

CONUNDRUMS.

1. Why is the letter J like the end of spring?
2. What is the most useful letter to a deaf old lady?
3. When may a chair be said to dislike you?
4. When is a window like a star?
5. Why is corn like a rose-bush?
6. Why is an egg like a colt?

* * * * *

No. 2.

CHARADE.

When sharp and blustering is my first,
And all are under cover,
Before the cheerful fireside sit
My second and her lover.

EMPIRE CITY.

* * * * *

No. 3.

FOUR DIAMONDS.

1.--1. A letter. 2. Fiery. 3. Virtuous. 4. To brown. 5. A letter.

2.--1. A letter. 2. Evening. 3. A happening. 4. Conclusion. 5. A letter.

3.--1. In pitch. 2. An adverb. 3. Ability. 4. A number. 5. In run.

XYZ.

4.--1. In salt. 2. To rise above. 3. Strength-giving. 4. A hollow. 5. In custard.

HELEN S. H.

* * * * *

No. 4.

TWO WORD SQUARES.

1.--1. An arrow. 2. To respect. 3. A part of the body. 4. Sheep-pens. 5. A ringlet.

EMPIRE CITY.

2.--1. A bird. 2. A bird. 3. To turn from. 4. Part of the body. 5. To come in.

HELEN S. H.

* * * * *

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 131.

No. 1.

L U X E M B U R G
S I B E R I A
S A L E M
O B I
O
B U G
F A R O E
R O A N O K E
T E N N E S S E E

U C A I A R Y
M O C H A
L E E
L
T A Y
C O N G O
C O R D O V A

No. 2.

Boston. Rhododendron. Nightingale.

No. 3.

C M
A R T M A Y
C R E A M M A Y O R
T A R Y O U
M R

* * * * *

Correct answers to puzzles have been received from Annie J. Thomas, "Columbia," "American," Helen S. Herzig, Walter Morell, W. C., Frank Smith, Rogers Campe, Elsie O., Lulu Beck, Emily Dean, Maggie Walker, Florence Meserole, Jennie Strong, Claude Ramsay, McVey Grove, Kitty and Josie, E. H. D., Charles Morrison, Nelson Metcalf, Bessie T., "Lodestar," George P. Taggart, Florence H. Chambers, Florence, Mabel, and Annie, B. J. Lautz, Florence Cox, Willie Jones, Mary H. Hobart, William A. Lewis, and Edgar Seeman.

* * * * *

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

CHARACTERS; OR, WHO AM I?

Somebody once said, "There is no royal road to knowledge." We will admit the fact as a general proposition, but now and then affairs can be so arranged that a bit of information can be fixed in the mind, and a fair amount of fun be had through the same means.

The following game is admirably adapted to a party of school-fellows who have been reading and studying from the same books. It could be made to answer all the purposes of the review of certain branches, and it is not at all impossible that teachers of good judgment could be found who would approve of giving a little time to it during school-hours.

One of the party is sent out of the room; some well-known hero, or equally well-known character from a book, like Dickens's novels or Shakspeare's plays, is selected, and when the absentee returns to the assembly, he or she is greeted as the person fixed upon, and he must reply in such a manner as to bring out more information as to the character he has unconsciously assumed.

Suppose the game has commenced, and when the player enters the room he is thus accosted:

"Your military ardor must have been very great, and you had a very adventurous spirit, when you left your home in England, and set out with a determination of fighting the Turks."

"Yes, I was always very fond of adventures."

"Well, you had plenty of them; and when you were taken prisoner, and sold to the Bashaw, your mistress, to whom he presented you, felt so much sympathy and affection for you that you were sent to her brother, but he not being so well pleased with you, treated you cruelly."

"He did; and although I suffered much from his treatment, I suffered more in the idea of being a slave."

"The thought must have been terrible to you," remarks another of the players, "or you would not have killed your master, hid his body, clothed yourself in his attire, mounted his horse, and galloped to the desert, where you wandered about for many days, until at last you reached the Russian garrison, where you were safe."

"And well pleased was I to reach there in safety; but was I then content with my travels?"

"For a while; but the spirit of enterprise, so great within you, caused you to set sail for the English colony of Virginia, when you were taken a prisoner again, this time by the Indians, and your head placed upon a large stone, in order to have your brains beaten out with clubs."

"What a dreadful situation I was in, with only enemies around me!"

"But there was one who proved a friend. A young and beautiful princess, finding that her entreaties for your life were useless, rushed forward, laid her head upon yours, and thus resolved to share your fate or save your life."

"I am deeply grateful to Pocahontas for her noble act, and I am also glad to find myself so renowned a person as Captain John Smith."

* * * * *

ENIGMA.

My first is black, or brown, or white;
Of mechanism exquisite;
Our earliest help, our latest need;
The first to greet, the last to speed;
Our constant help in daily tasks;
The gift th' impatient lover asks;
The forger's bane; the poor man's good,
Procuring him his children's food.

My next is often seen in fur,
Yet oft as light as gossamer;
Sometimes the school-boy gets his share,
And lamentation fills the air.
My whole are polished, hard, and strong,
To hardened natures they belong;
And when my first my next bestows,
'Tis time my whole should interpose.

HOUSE-HUNTING.

End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Young People, May 23, 1882, by Various