Chapter II: Part 2

"Oh dear me, there is no need of apology," said Clara May, a trifle defiantly. "One understands quite well that there would be no pleasure in having a suit like that unless there were opportunities to show it; and whether it be in the morning or evening, in the school-room or the opera boxes, is all the same. I don't see why one should not wear as nice things in Madame Blanc's company as in Madame Gerster's; and some people would think a school-room just as worthy of a fine dress as an opera-house."

This argument was received with a murmur of approval. Girls rarely look beneath the surface, and it sounded well; but upon the whole, Katie felt that she had had a great triumph. For a month afterward she wore her brown cloth school suit with the air of one who has vindicated her taste, and who was quite content with its serviceable fitness.

The velvets began to look common, and a little shabby; imitations of a cheaper kind were plentiful on the streets. She almost wondered how she ever could have thought them so desirable. It was just when she had reached this position, when velvet suits had sunk below the tide of wishing for in her mind, that they were again forced on her attention.

One morning Clara May came to school in a state of great excitement. She threw aside her Derby and Ulster, and hastened to the group chatting by the open fire.

"Girls," she said, in a tone which implied something far beyond the words--"girls, I was at the charity fair last night."

"Oh!" from half a dozen voices at once.

"And I saw Agnes Hilton there. She had a stand--Japanese things."

"Did you buy?"

"I priced some scrolls; they were horrid, and very dear. What do you think she wore?"

"Could not guess; she has such lots of things," said an old pupil who remembered Agnes.

"A--violet--velvet--suit!"

"Oh!"

"Lined with pale violet satin!"

"Oh!"

"And little bunches of violets worked on the cuffs, collar, and left breast!"

"Never!"

"Yes, it is, I positively declare."

"Katie Dawson's?" inquired some one, in a hesitating voice.

"Or else--Katie Dawson wore Agnes Hilton's suit that day."

"They might have suits alike," said Julia Smith; "they are great friends."

"They _might_, but I don't believe they have."

Just then Katie entered the room, and there was a moment's silence. Then Clara said:

"Good-morning, Miss Dawson. Were you at the fair last night?"

"Yes. What a horrid crush it was!"

"Do you think so? What did you wear?"

"Navy blue silk."

"Why did you not wear your violet velvet?"

"In that crush? What an idea!"

"Agnes Hilton had hers on. I saw her; I priced some goods at her stand. I noticed particularly the flowers on her cuffs. It was a suit _exactly_ like the one you wore that morning you came dressed for the matinée. Your suit was made precisely the same as hers. Perhaps it was"--and then she stopped, and with a very irritating smile turned to her books.

The attack had been so sudden that for once Katie was tongue-tied. That group of inquisitive girls was too much for her. She turned haughtily on her heel, and disdained to answer, but she felt that her sceptre had departed. There were whisperings in her presence, and confidences in which she had no share. Girls looked meaningly at her dress, and a week afterward, when the day for translations came round, Clara May read aloud the fable of the jay in peacock's feathers, which she had freely rendered into French from the English version.

To Madame it had no particular meaning; to the whole school-room it was startlingly intelligent. Katie tingled with shame and burned with anger. She had pretended not to notice much that had wounded her deeply. Should she continue a course which left her a text for sermons of this kind, or should she boldly take her punishment in her own hand? She decided that the latter would be the bravest and wisest thing to do, and as soon as Clara sat down she rose and asked, "Will Madame allow me to answer Miss May's fable in English?"

"This is the French class, Miss Dawson."

"But, Madame, I desire all present to understand me clearly."

"You have a motive? Ah! then it is well you speak as you wish."

"Madame, _I_ am intended to point the moral of the jay and the peacock's feathers. If Madame permits me, I will explain."

"I desire not to interrupt."

Then Katie spoke frankly of her desire for a velvet suit, and repeated her mother's objections to it--to which objections Madame said, emphatically, "Good, they were good."

"Then I went to Agnes Hilton's, and she proposed I should wear her dress, and I agreed to it very gladly. Madame perhaps remembers the dress?"

Madame nodded her head decidedly.

"And then, Madame, Miss May saw Miss Hilton at the fair in the violet velvet, and Miss May is very shrewd, and supposed what is really the case. I might, of course, have said that Agnes and I had dresses alike, and so have left the matter in doubt. But I have regretted my folly very often since, and I prefer to tell the truth. Whatever punishment Madame thinks I deserve, I am ready to accept."

"This is a great pleasure to me," said Madame. "What is a velvet suit?--a few dollars, a thing that quite common people may have. But the truth!--but the brave heart to confess a fault! That is beyond all price. Miss Dawson has taken her punishment this morning; now I give to her, with great pride, my hand."

There had never been such a sensation in the school before. Katie lifted her eyes, full of tears, to Madame, and in that moment the girl gained a point in character which vanity and deception never again will conquer.

Then the translations went on as usual, but when the books were closed, Madame said: "We have learned a lesson this morning, young ladies, which is the same in all the languages--the power of simple truth to conquer even the vanity and the ill-will. If you forget the French, then you will try always to remember this."

The girl whom I have called Clara May told me the story of the violet velvet suit, and she added: "I like no one so well as I do Katie Dawson now. Madame Dubaney will make our school dresses alike next winter, and they will _not_ be velvet."

A PLAY-GROUND IN THE CZAR'S PARK.

BY DAVID KER.

No Russian boy with a half-holiday before him could wish for a pleasanter place to spend it than the great park which lies around the Czar's country palace of Tsarskoë-Selo (Czar's Village), sixteen miles southeast of St. Petersburg. The poor Czar himself very seldom goes there now, fearing to be shot or blown up: but plenty of his subjects do all through the summer, and many a hard-worked clerk or tired store-keeper, lying on the soft grass, with his children frolicking around him, or eating moroshki (Finland raspberries) and cream in one of the little trellis-work summer-houses near the lake, doubtless congratulates himself that he is not important enough to be assassinated, and can take a day's pleasure without fear of pistols, daggers, or dynamite bombs.

If you strike straight out through the park from the eastern corner of the palace, and head toward Pavlovsk (which lies two miles distant), you will soon hear a chorus of little voices, as if a party of children were enjoying themselves somewhere near. Ask any one what this means, and the answer will be, "Matchta" (the mast), and in another moment you see the top of a tall mast above the trees, and come out upon a small open space with a shed along one side of it, and the mast itself in the middle.

All around the foot of it, for safety's sake, is spread a strong net, upon which a crowd of girls and boys are dancing, rolling about, and jumping backward and forward, while other boys of a more adventurous turn are chasing each other up and down the "stays" and rope-ladders, laughing and hallooing at the full pitch of their voices.

See what rosy cheeks this little lassie in the pink sash has got. She looked pale enough two months ago, but fresh air and out-door games have done wonders for her already. She and her sister Alexia (Alice) have taken her big doll between them, and joining hands with their cousin Nadejda (Hope) are dancing round and round in time to a funny little Russian song.

But who is that tall, bright-eyed, curly-haired boy who is skipping up and down the rigging as nimbly as a cat, watched admiringly by the old Russian sailor who has charge of the play-ground? Young as he is, Michael Suvôrin has already made up his mind to go to sea, and never loses a chance of "practicing for a sailor." He is rather a wild boy, and just a little too fond of playing tricks upon his aunt and cousins, who are watching him rather nervously from below; but with all his wildness, he staid in only last week all through a half-holiday to read to his little sister when she was ill.

Suddenly he flings his straw hat to the ground, and starts right for the mast-head hand over hand in true man-of-war fashion. Up he goes--up, up, up--reaches the top, and giving a triumphant hurrah, turns to come down again.

All at once he is seen to lurch forward; a cry is heard; and the next moment he is hanging head downward in the empty air, caught by one foot in the strands of the rope-ladder.

Instantly all is confusion. Ladies scream, children cry, and the old sailor himself darts forward to mount to the rescue, when the mischievous boy clews himself up again with a loud laugh, and slides down unhurt, the whole thing having been only a trick.

But when he sees his aunt's white scared face, and his little cousins crying bitterly, Michael's warm heart smites him.

"I'm very sorry, aunt; I only meant it for fun, and I never thought I'd frighten you so. Scold me as much as you like; it'll just serve me right."

"Nay, don't be too hard on him, barina" (madam), puts in the old sailor. "Boys will have their fun; but he's got the heart of a man in him, and a man that you'll be proud of yet."

And I should not wonder if old Ivan's prophecy some day came out true.

THE KITTEN AND FALLING LEAVES.

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

That way look, my infant, lo!
What a pretty baby-show!
See the Kitten on the wall,
Sporting with the leaves that fall--
Withered leaves, one, two, and three--
From the lofty elder-tree!
Through the calm and frosty air
Of this morning bright and fair,
Eddying round and round, they sink
Softly, slowly; one might think,
From the motions that are made,
Every little leaf conveyed
Sylph or fairy hither tending,
To this lower world descending,
Each invisible and mute
In his wavering parachute.

--But the Kitten, how she starts,
Crouches, stretches, paws, and darts!
First at one, and then its fellow
Just as light and just as yellow;
There are many now--now one--
Now they stop, and there are none.
What intenseness of desire
In her upward eye of fire!
What a tiger-leap! Half way
Now she meets the coming prey,
Lets it go as fast, and then
Has it in her power again;
Now she works with three or four,
Like an Indian conjurer;
Quick as he in feats of art,
Far beyond in joy of heart,
Were her antics played in the eye
Of a thousand standers-by,
Clapping hands with shout and stare,
What would little Tabby care
For the plaudits of the crowd?
Overhappy to be proud,
Overwealthy in the treasure
Of her own exceeding pleasure!

We feel sure that our readers will be pleased by the announcement on the next page of a serial story by their friend Mr. W. O. Stoddard. The story is a long one, and will contain a chapter of intensely interesting reading for each week of the coming winter.

* * * * *

Sometimes when we open the Post-office Box, and read the letters you send us, we try to imagine how you look, and wonder whether we would know you if we happened to meet you going to school, or riding your gentle ponies over the hills, or perhaps busy feeding your pets, and helping along at home. We fancy we would recognize our own Young People by their bright faces and straightforward speech and polite manners. Though we can not print all the letters, we like to read them, and we think just as much of the letters we can not publish as of those which appear in these columns. Remember this, Hannah and Joe, Theodore and Bessie, and write to us again.

Please use black ink, boys and girls, and, to spare our eyes, do not use red ink nor a lead-pencil.

* * * * *

FORT RENO, INDIAN TERRITORY.

Would you like to hear about an Indian dance, or "medicine," which
I saw a little while ago? It was in a very large tent composed of
several "tepees," or tents of the kind the Indians live in. The
dancers were almost naked, painted black or yellow with white
marks, and most of them had willow wreaths on their heads, wrists,
and ankles. They jumped up and down, blowing on whistles made of
the bone of an eagle's wing. In one corner of the tent was a
"tom-tom," or big drum, which was beaten by five or six Indians,
who sang at the same time, or at least did what they called
singing, though it sounded more like howling in my ears. After much
drumming and singing, the "medicine-man" and two or three others
came forward and stood near the middle pole. One took down two
ropes, while another sat down. The "medicine-man" then picked up a
knife and some sticks and went up to the side of the man who was
sitting down, and pinching up some of the skin on either side of
his breast, ran the knife through it, and then taking one of the
sticks, he put it through the hole. Then he and another man slipped
the ropes over the sticks and went away. The tortured Indian got up
and jumped first to one side and then to the other, trying to break
loose. The skin stood out about four and a half inches, but would
not break: at last it gave way, and the man went head first into
the fire which was behind him. After this several others were tied
up in the same way. The dance continued several days.

I like "The Cruise of the 'Ghost,'" "The Brave Swiss Boy," and
"Across the Ocean," but "Toby Tyler" is my favorite. I have taken
YOUNG PEOPLE from the first number, and could hardly do without it.
I am just eleven years old.

WILLIAM WIRT L.

* * * * *

COVINGTON, KENTUCKY.

Most of the young folks who write to you tell of their pets. To
avoid sameness, I will not tell of mine, but briefly mention the
many curious things I lately saw at Spang's Natural History Rooms.

There were four or five kinds of sharks, the most
formidable-looking being the hammer-head. It was indeed a monster;
its head was three feet across, and its great goggle eyes stood out
on each side. The man-eater was a hideous-looking thing, and would
not be a very pleasant bathing companion. It has double rows of
teeth, and is fully capable of making mince-meat of a person in a
very short time. The manatee, or sea-cow, is an ugly-looking
customer, in shape resembling the whale. This specimen weighs
nearly two thousand pounds. The saw-fish is a queer-looking fellow,
who has the advantage of all other workmen, as he carries his
tool-chest with him all the time without inconvenience. This chest
contains one formidable saw, which grows out from his snout. We saw
two or three very large fish of this class, the saws being fully a
yard long, with teeth on both sides. The king of fishes, the whale,
would not care to combat with a saw-fish. Of all the odd-looking
reptiles we saw it would be too tedious to make mention, so I will
only allude to the little alligators, all dead and stuffed, which
the ingenious Mr. Spang has arranged in the most laughable
attitudes. He must have at least five hundred, some of them not
more than a couple of weeks old. I hope that those of your readers
who are fond of studying natural history may have an opportunity to
visit this or some other equally good collection.

EDITH C.

* * * * *

CONCORD, CALIFORNIA.

My home is away out in the country, in Contra Costa County. I have
two sisters and three brothers. My sisters are Emma and Tina, and
my brothers are Charlie and Louis; the baby's name we have not yet
decided upon. Emma, Tina, and I go to a little school about two
miles from home. I have some chickens, turkeys, ducks, and pigeons,
four dogs, and more than a dozen cats. I must tell you what my
brother Louis did to a pet pigeon of mine. He saw it walking around
the yard, and he thought he would make it a prisoner by putting it
in the tin oven of the stove. We built a fire in the stove next
day, and soon we heard a noise in the oven. We took the captive
out, and tried to save it, but it died in the night. My papa gave
me a nice little pony, which I ride. His name is George. I am
twelve years old, and as this is my first letter, I would like very
much to see it in print. Good-by.

BERTA E. L.

Of course your brother did not mean to leave the poor bird in prison, and he must have felt very sad at its unhappy fate.

* * * * *

ELYRIA, OHIO.

I have been wanting to write you a letter for a long time, for I
see many letters in the Post-office Box from little girls who are
about the same age as myself.

I want to tell you about a large black and yellow spider that had
its home in the corner of a house of ours. Of course it was
out-of-doors, for my mamma will not have spider webs in the house
where we live. In the middle of her web Mrs. Spider made a kind of
curtain, behind which she retired to eat her food. One morning I
went to look at it, and there hung a brown bag about the size of a
hickory-nut. The bag looked as if it had been drawn together at the
top and tied with a string. It had all been made in one night.
There was soon another, and then the spider was gone. My papa took
one of the bags and opened it. The outside was thick and tough like
leather, but soft and smooth as satin inside. In it there was a
little round bowl with a lid; we lifted the lid, and found the bowl
full of tiny yellow eggs. All around this bowl was something that
looked like fine brown cotton. I wonder if it was put there to keep
the eggs warm, or as food for the baby spiders. I am going to let
the other bag hang as long as it will, and watch it.

I have taken HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE almost a year; it was a birthday
present.

ADA L. B.

* * * * *

BETHALTO, ILLINOIS.

I want to tell you about my dear little sparrow, which I found in a
mill, all covered with flour. I took him home, and fed him for a
week. When I thought he was old enough, I let him fly, but the
cunning little fellow did not want to go. He chirruped all day in
the trees around the house, and at night, when I called him, he
flew right into my open hand. We continued to feed him, and now
think we will have to keep him always. He flies out every day, but
is sure to be close to his cage at night, and there he is satisfied
till morning.

I also have a canary, which always whistles when he sees my papa,
and keeps on calling till papa answers him.

FREDDIE M.

* * * * *

HAZELWOOD, KENTUCKY.

I sold my last year's turkeys, and invested a part of the proceeds
in HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. It has proved the best investment I ever
made. Papa, mamma, and my brothers and sisters older and younger
than myself all enjoy each week's issue. I now have another flock
of young turkeys, and when they are disposed of, I will certainly
renew my subscription. I raised over two hundred chickens this
year. I now have five brown Leghorn chickens, beauties, from which
I hope to raise a flock next year.

MATTIE L. O.

When you write again, tell us something about your turkeys, whether they are fond of wandering from home, and which you like best to care for, turkeys or chickens.

* * * * *

QUINCY, ILLINOIS.

My little son Alfred is, through his affliction, not able to write
himself, so he requests me to say to you what he would like to say
himself. When he wrote you the letter you were kind enough to put
in your valuable paper for him, we thought it probable some few
sympathizing children would send him something to read, and so help
to pass away the to him weary time. He little thought of the almost
universal interest it would awake among your readers. He has
received, I suppose, one hundred and fifty letters, and books,
magazines, and newspapers enough to last him some time. Letters
have come to him from almost every State in the Union, and one from
a very kind lady in Helena, Montana. I have answered several by
mail, but a great many kind friends have sent papers without name,
and we wish in his place to thank all who have so kindly answered
his letter, and we hope some day to do to others as they have done
to our little boy.

S. JUDD, for ALFRED.

* * * * *

WINDHAM, NEW YORK.

My friend from New York city and I thought we would write and tell
you about our camping out upon a hill behind our house. We built a
little shanty just large enough to sit up and lie down in, besides
a little place to put our apples and drinking water in. We slept
with soft hats on, pulled down over our ears to keep from catching
cold, lying on and under blankets. It was quite a cold night
outside, but with the aid of a lantern we read YOUNG PEOPLE, and
kept warm inside by hugging up close together. We were very careful
about the light being seen by the boys, for fear they would come up
and trouble us as they did last year. We covered the cracks around
the sides with old carpets, and the roof with oil-cloth, to keep
from getting wet if it should happen to rain. We slept well, and in
the morning I heard some one call, "Time to get up; half past
five," so we got up and opened our house; and next summer, if we
live, we will camp out again. We hope to have YOUNG PEOPLE till we
grow up, and we always welcome it.

RIP VAN WINKLE.
E. O. P.

* * * * *

ELIZABETH, NEW JERSEY.

I think I must tell you about my gray cat. My papa brought him home
from New York one day, and he was at first very wild, but plenty to
eat and kind treatment soon tamed him. His color is gray, and he
has black stripes on his head, paws, back, and sides. He is very
greedy; we may feed him all day, and then he will come and rub up
against us, as if begging for more. He is a very affectionate cat,
for when I go out into the yard, he comes up out of the
honeysuckles and purrs with pleasure. I have had him about three
months.

ROSIE E. W.

You might call your gray pussy Oliver Twist, after a certain poor boy who was abused quite as much as poor Tim, and who was always asking for "more," though he had far less to eat than your cat, and so had an excuse for being always hungry. Do you know who wrote the story of _Oliver Twist_?

* * * * *

My brother and I are making a "zoo," and have quite a collection. I
would like to increase my stock with a live turtle or terrapin, and
I will exchange twelve picture cards for a small one.

We are now reading _Life and her Children_, and find it adds much
to the pleasure of our work in collecting.

My brother is eleven and I am nine years old.

F. C. ELY, 238 S. Third St., Philadelphia, Penn.

* * * * *

The following exchanges are offered by correspondents:

Stamps, foreign and domestic, for exchange.

F. H. WATERS, Cambridge, Dorset Co., Md.

* * * * *

Rare South American and East Indian stamps, for others equally
rare.

B. F. MCLAUGHLIN,
122 Front St., New York City.

* * * * *

A stone from Illinois, for three postmarks from any other State.

RALPH B. LARKIN,
New Windsor, Mercer Co., Ill.

* * * * *

A hand-power scroll-saw, one iron stone, one flint Indian
arrow-head, two books, entitled _The Six Little Rebels_ and _The
American Family Robinson_, for a bicycle, stamps, or coins.

H. B. MCGRAW,
206 Prospect St., Cleveland, Ohio.

* * * * *

A 20-inch miniature yacht, sloop-rigged, and warranted to sail, a
three-draw spy-glass, and fifty stamps, for a foot-power scroll-saw
and appliances in good condition.

WILLIAM E. ELDRIDGE,
323 York St., Jersey City, N. J.

* * * * *

U. S. stamps, postmarks, New York papers and editors' names, for
curiosities, stamps, etc., or for a printing-press and type.

THOMAS J. STANTON,
39 Madison St., New York City.

* * * * *

Fifty foreign and official stamps, several rare English and other
foreign coins, for type in good condition.

WILL J. DANTE,
1212 Sixth St., N. W., Washington, D. C.

* * * * *

Internal revenue stamps, ores, postmarks, insects, and arrow-heads,
for stamps from Asia, Africa, or South America.

ELMER POST,
Box 1503, Towanda, Penn.

* * * * *

Pressed flowers and ferns from Pennsylvania, lichens, etc., for
ocean curiosities, minerals, or old coins. Please label specimens.

Box 26, New Bloomfield, Perry Co., Penn.

* * * * *

A dix-centimes French coin, for a stamp from Paraguay and one from
Cashmere; an English half-penny, for a stamp from Honduras and one
from Orange States.

ALFRED C. ROWLAND,
Montclair, Essex Co., N. J.

* * * * *

Hot Springs specimens, for a popular poem entitled "We've drank
from the same Canteen," sent in order for a scrap-book.

MAIE G. HAMBLEN, Hot Springs, Ark.

* * * * *

Pretty pebbles from Lake Erie, for foreign stamps or curiosities.

ALTHEA LEHMAN,
Bloomville, Seneca Co., Ohio.

* * * * *

Postmarks, for curiosities.

HARRY T. LONG, Malden, Mass.

* * * * *

Stones from Colorado, mica from Illinois, stones and sand from
Africa, 197 foreign stamps (no duplicates), four sea-beans, a fine
collection of sea-shells, gold and copper ores, a book, and a $1
gold piece, for a bicycle, wheel not less than 36 inches.

BUTTON MCPHETRIDGE,
Danville, Hendricks Co., Ind.

* * * * *

Seven postmarks, for one foreign stamp.

PERRY R. S. SWAYZE,
New Columbus, Luzerne Co., Penn.

* * * * *

Rare European and other foreign stamps, for the same.

CHARLIE L. MILLER,
Lock Box 108, Bristol, R. I.

* * * * *

Foam of different colors from Oswego Iron-Works, or European
stamps, for specimens of woods 5 inches long and over 1-1/2 inches
in circumference.

HOSEA WOOD, 448 Eighth St., Portland, Oregon.

* * * * *

Woods from Indiana, for foreign or department stamps.

Box 266, Bloomington, Monroe Co., Ind.

* * * * *

Nine fancy picture cards, for an Indian arrow-head.

NELLIE M. BLODGETT,
119 Warburton Avenue, Yonkers, N. Y.

* * * * *

Seven rare postmarks, for one foreign stamp or U. S. issue older
than 1860.

MAC ENTWISTLE, 603 Rives St., Troy, N. Y.

* * * * *

Two hundred feet of good cotton fish-line, for an Indian tomahawk
or other Indian curiosities; seventy-five postmarks, for an Indian
pipe or string of beads.

E. C. SHAW,
459 Superior St., Toledo, Ohio.

* * * * *

Foreign stamps, for old and foreign coins, relics, and curiosities.

C. SMITH,
Box 636, Pittston, Penn.

* * * * *

U. S. stamps, for foreign ones.

J. N. BUTLER, care of Hall & Macdonald,
1651 Broadway, New York City.

* * * * *

Postmarks or foreign stamps, moss from Idaho or Oregon, for a 7 or
90 cent U. S. department stamp of 1869. Oliver Optic's _Up the
Baltic_, bound in cloth, for a stamp album little used.

CHARLES W. GIBBS,
155 Taylor St., Portland, Oregon.

* * * * *

White birch bark, specimens of iron ore, mica, quartz crystals, and
fossils, for rare or foreign coins, relics, and specimens.
Everything must be carefully labelled.

J. S. WARREN, Brooklyn, Ontario, Can.

* * * * *

Crystals, very clear and large, from the Black Hills, ores,
petrifactions, and metallic specimens, for curiosities.

CARL KEHRWEIDER, JUN.,
1711 Rittenhouse St., Philadelphia, Penn.

* * * * *

Two hundred and twenty-five postmarks, for foreign stamps and
curiosities.

HORACE TOMKINSOL,
Mount Salem, Wilmington, Del.

* * * * *

Foreign stamps, for the same, minerals, Indian relics, and other
curiosities.

HARVEY C. SHAW, Box 607, Jamestown, N. Y.

* * * * *

Minerals, woods, ores, Indian relics, and curiosities, for coins,
minerals, curiosities, and copies of the old _Farmer's Almanac_
older than 1879.

HERBERT CARR, Box 1112, Brockton, Mass.

* * * * *

A stone and soil from New Jersey and New York, for the same from
any other State; and a paper from New York and New Jersey, for the
same from any other State except Massachusetts.

M. STIEFEL,
36 East Sixtieth St., New York City.

* * * * *

Three good books, called _The Burning Prairie_, _Ten Cents_, _Dick
Cheverly's Adventures and Misadventures_, a stamp album containing
142 stamps, and three sets of fancy cards, for a good self-inking
printing-press with font of type.

JAMES E. HARDENBERGH,
109 Lexington Avenue, Brooklyn, N. Y.

* * * * *

Ores and other minerals, and cocoons of a very large moth, six
inches across the wings, some of the cocoons nearly as large as my
fist, for Indian relics, ocean curiosities, and sea-shells.
Correspondents will please write to arrange exchange. Also, if
desired, large butterflies properly spread for collector's case.

ARTHUR C. SMITH,
554 Division St., Chicago, Ill.

* * * * *

Three stamps of Argentine Republic, three of Brazil, two of Cape of
Good Hope, three of Chili, four of Egypt, three of Hong-Kong, three
of Norway, four of Russia, and one of Turkey, for a complete set of
Curacoa or of Surinam; twelve Switzerland stamps, for a 7-cent
State Department. No duplicates in any of the above.

H. HARBECK,
142 East Thirty-sixth St., New York City.

* * * * *

Foreign stamps, shells, minerals, and curiosities, for 7, 90, and
15 cent War and State, 15 and 24 cent Agriculture, 10-cent
Executive, and 24-cent Treasury stamps, St. Helena coins, U. S.
cents of 1793, 1799, 1804, and 1809, and Indian arrow-heads. I
belong to the Providence Natural History Society, and am Secretary
of it. H. R. Guild is President. Any letters addressed to the
head-quarters of the club will reach me.

H. BUFFUM,
101 Waterman St., Providence, R. I.

* * * * *

_Three Months' Rustication_, by Ballantyne, or _Don Quixote_, for
one of Bayard Taylor's books of travels or Irving's _Astoria_.

CHARLES BENNETT,
Boonville, Warwick Co., Ind.

* * * * *

Specimens, for Indian relics and U. S. half-cents and old cents.
Porcupine quills from Manitoba and silk-worm eggs from Japan, for
rare U. S. postage stamps.

STILLMAN GRIFFIN, Moline, Ill.

* * * * *

Twenty foreign stamps (no duplicates), for a triangular Cape of
Good Hope.

BENNIE SQUIER, Box 585, Orange, N. J.

* * * * *

All the stamps of British Honduras, for a set of Justice or State.
Two stamps from Brazil, Russia, Turkey, Victoria, Jamaica, Egypt,
Greece, Japan, French Colonies, British Honduras, British Guiana,
Brunswick, Queensland, or New South Wales, for any of the
following: Post-office 10-cent; Agriculture 1, 2, 10, 12, 15, 24,
or 30 cent; Justice 1, 2, 10, 12, 15, 24, 30, or 90 cent; Navy 7 or
90 cent; War 7, 24, or 90 cent; and any of State or Executive.

A. B. C.,
166 West Fifty-fifth St., New York City.

* * * * *

Ten postmarks, for a penny of 1850, or a half-penny of 1839 or any
other year up to 1871; five different U. S. stamps, for one foreign
stamp.

MAUDE SMITH, 111 Greene St., Dayton, Ohio.

* * * * *

A few pieces of fossil limestone, for rare foreign stamps. Stamps
from Asia, Africa, and South America especially desired.

E. C. BAILEY, Decorah, Iowa.

* * * * *

Stones from the road made by General Anthony Wayne in 1792 going
from Pittsburgh to Detroit, for sea-shells or pieces of different
kinds of wood an inch and a half long and three-quarters of an inch
square. Label the specimens.

ALDA M. MICHAEL, Congress, Wayne Co., Ohio.

* * * * *

A good work in five volumes, for an alligator's tooth and other
curiosities. Write to arrange.

CONSTANT READER, Box 465, Rome, N. Y.

* * * * *

A pair of roller skates in good order, for a pair of ice skates in
good order. Please send postal describing skates before sending.

GRACIE A. PETTIT, Box 554, Yonkers, N. Y.

* * * * *

Three books, nearly new, _Rational Method for Learning French_,
_Acme Biography_, and _American Patriotism_, a steel bracket-saw,
and artist's sketching camera, papers and magazines, all for a
self-inking press, chase not less than 4 by 6 inches. Write and
describe before sending press.

C. H. NICHOLS,
Cumming P. O., Forsyth Co., Ga.

* * * * *

A sword-fish sword, from the waters around Block Island, and two
books, for a pair of white mice and a young alligator. Write to
arrange exchange.

EWING WATTERSON,
Everett House, New York City.

[_For other exchanges, see third page of cover._]

* * * * *

Exchangers will please notice again that we do not allow fire-arms to be exchanged, and that offers of anything curious or valuable for money are not accepted. We repeat, in answer to several questioners, that there is no charge for inserting exchanges.

* * * * *

We are very glad that Perry W. had such a delightful visit at his grandpa's, and would like to have eaten some of the fish he caught. The little sister's birthday was charmingly remembered. Spencer P. H. sent us a very bright little letter about the ants. Did he ever read H. H.'s clever story, "My Ant's Cow?" Ethel I.'s little sisters Marion and Muriel must be as sweet as their beautiful names. We would like to see the pets, of which we are sure Rena and Elsie take good care. Della C. may be sure we quite agree with her about the unfortunate Jimmy Brown. Nellie F. may write and tell us about the fair. We are very sorry with Curtis and Appa that their dear cousin Freddie is dead. We may live, as they do, in a Happy Valley, and still feel the touch of sorrow. But Freddie had been ill "a long, long while," and he is now forever free from pain.

* * * * *

E. A. Houston's address is changed from Monmouth Beach, N. J., to 9 West Nineteenth St., New York City. "Reader of YOUNG PEOPLE," Box 114, Cumberland, Md., has received over 100 answers to his exchange, and his supply of coins is exhausted. He will return their postmarks to all who shall send him a stamp for the purpose.

* * * * *

C. H. B.--Articles in YOUNG PEOPLE are paid for according to their value. It is not best for very young writers to be in haste about sending their stories and poems to any paper for publication.

* * * * *

Correct answers to puzzles have been received from "Castor and Pollux," "_Queen Bess_," Ed. S. Harrington, Willie Volckhausen, "Lodestar," Charles H. Battey, "Phil I. Pene," G. Volckhausen, C. A. N., "Young America."

* * * * *

PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

TRANSPOSITION--(_To Aerolite_).

I am a boy's nickname. Change my head, and I become a pest; again, a rug; again, a flying creature; again, a useful animal; again, an article of apparel; again, an adjective; and again, a verb.

LODESTAR.

* * * * *

No. 2.

ENIGMA.

In weaving, not in twining.
In dazzling, not in shining.
In trimming, not in clipping.
In stepping, not in tripping.
In church, but not in steeple.
My whole an ancient people.

OWLET.

* * * * *

No. 3.

TWO EASY DIAMONDS.

1.--1. A letter. 2. A liquor. 3. A dazzling light. 4. To miss the way. 5. A letter.

2.--1. A letter. 2. A girl's name. 3. A boy's name. 4. To help. 5. A letter.

CASTOR AND POLLUX.

* * * * *

No. 4.

EASY NUMERICAL ENIGMA.

I am composed of 12 letters, and am the title of a poem by John G.
Whittier.
My 2, 5, 6, 3 is a place of industry.
My 9, 7, 4, 1 is saucy.
My 12, 10, 8, 11 is a timid creature.

R. T.

* * * * *

No. 5.

CHARADE.

In every city my first is free;
In each back yard on the fence 'twill be.
My second is owned by every man;
You'll find it in can't, you'll find it in can.
My third, with a spring to the good roan steed,
The cry of the hounds impatient heed;
Ride like the wind, nor risk a fall,
For savage and fierce is my tameless _all_.

AEROLITE.

* * * * *

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 97.

No. 1.

C or D
O tt O
R ea R
A nn A

No. 2.

C O N S U M P T I O N
H U R R I C A N E
C O W S L I P
P O S T S
L I E
S
A S P
W H I T E
W E E P I N G
S A N D P I P E R
S U P E R I N T E N D

No. 3.

M
P E T
M E D A L
T A N
L

No. 4.

Aar, bar, car, ear, far, jar, lar, mar, oar, par, tar, war.

No. 5.

Because last year was 1880, and next year will be 1880 too (1882).

A NEW SERIAL.

In No. 101 of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, issued October 4, will appear the first chapter of a fascinating serial story, entitled

THE TALKING LEAVES,

BY W. O. STODDARD.

The story of "The Talking Leaves" is one of Indian life in the far Southwest, the scenes being laid in Arizona and Mexico. Without being sensational or exaggerated, the story is of absorbing interest. The descriptions of places and persons are true to nature, and the illustrations, drawn by THULSTRUP, are reproductions of actual characters and incidents. Mr. Stoddard is already so well known to the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE as the author of some of their favorite stories that the mere mention of his name is a sufficient introduction.

QUEER KITES.

I was once passing along a side street in an Eastern city when I caught sight of an object in the sky which seemed to be neither bird, nor balloon, nor kite. It darted about like a skipper on the surface of a pool. It would rush off to one side and the other, going through the queerest contortions and doublings, opening and shutting and throwing itself about like an acrobat. I started toward it, determined to know what the indescribable, twitching thing was. Before I had gone far I caught sight of a young Chinaman on a house-top making some queer motions with his hands. I soon saw that my curiosity in the heavens was a kite, and he was flying it.

I now saw that the kite was in the form of a parallelogram (this page is in the form of a parallelogram), and that it had no tail. What kept it from whirling round and round, as all my kites had done when their tails came off, I could not imagine. So I sought an acquaintance with the young Chinaman, and obtained a good look at the kite. I measured all the distances, and got the proportions. I looked at the materials, and learned all I could. Then I went home, and tried to make one.

I turned out something that looked very much like it. There is not much trouble in that. We can make a gong that _looks_ like a Chinese gong, but it will not work. Neither would my kite. I took it out to try it, and before I had let out three feet of string it was whirling like a windmill. If it had any Chinese blood in its veins, it certainly hadn't become aware of it. It had all the characteristics of the rest of American-born kites.

I loosened strings and tightened strings, cut strings and slipped strings, and tied knots, but it still acted more like a windmill than a kite. I was about giving it up in despair when I happened to try a decided slip of the balance down, and the diving ceased. It would now stand still, looking as hob-tailed as one of the "three blind mice." I could make it dart about, and perform all the antics. By pulling it in rapidly I could even make it pass over my head, and go some distance back of me against the wind, and when I stopped pulling it would float back into place. I could make it double itself, and bow and dance as oddly as its Chinese model. It would sail up in the slightest breath of wind, and altogether was so entertaining that I believe some of the boys who read this paper would like to follow my recipe.

The frame is made of split bamboo. Get a piece of a bamboo or cane fish-pole (the dealers generally have broken ones which they will give you). Split it up into very thin strips, perhaps an eighth of an inch wide and a sixteenth thick. They must be very thin, for when your kite is done it ought to stand bending double as safely as a Damascus blade. You need five sticks in all. After you have these ready, make your frame in this manner (see Fig. 1): The heavy lines are the sticks, which must be tied together at A, B, C, and D. The dotted line represents the string which is put around them. A good size for the kite is about two feet. You now have the frame ready. For the cover get the lightest paper you can that is strong. Toughness of paper is very important. Put on your paper, pasting it over the strings and the stick A C. Now fasten the end of a string at A; lay the kite down with the sticks undermost; bring the string to C, and draw it until the stick A C rises in a moderate bow, B rising about two inches; then fasten at C, and clip.

The balancing is much the same as for an ordinary kite. Fasten the ends of a balance at o, o, o, o, etc., letting them cross each other about eight inches from the kite. Having got these all even, let fall one more string to support the centre (D), and tie this in with the rest. Attach your string at a point (J) about opposite the cross-stick F E, and you are ready to try it.

Take it out when there is a light wind (they never behave well in a gale), and let it off. Very likely it will spin round at first, but by sliding the knot downward upon the balance strings you are certain to reach a point where the diving will cease. Then begin working it upward until the disposition to dive is but moderate, regulating the tendency to go to one side or the other by sliding the knot toward that side, and you will have a kite which will afford you more amusement than you have found in all your kite-flying before.

Another very curious kite is called the "dragon kite" (see Fig. 2), and when in the air it twists and makes a snake-like movement which is exceedingly curious and attractive. They can be easily made, and will fully repay the labor and pains taken.

The round hoops are made of bamboo or very light whale-bone, and are about twelve inches in diameter in the centre, growing smaller at each end. The hoops are covered with thin strong paper, pasted carefully over the edges, and so loosely as to sink in the centre so as to hold the wind. Five strings connect the hoops together, the one in the centre passing through each one, and is part of the cord held by the kite-flyer. The little balls are made of many-colored down, fastened by threads to each quarter of the hoops, while the tails are made of worsted pulled out about six inches. They are easily raised and managed.