Chapter II: Introduction (2)

"What a curious thing!" he cried, "there is not a single cloud in the sky, the stars are quite clear and bright, and yet it is raining. The climate in the north of Europe is really dreadful. The Reed used to like the rain, but that was merely her selfishness."

Then another drop fell.

"What is the use of a statue if it cannot keep the rain off?" he said; "I must look for a good chimney-pot," and he determined to fly away.

But before he had opened his wings, a third drop fell, and he looked up, and saw--Ah! what did he see?

The eyes of the Happy Prince were filled with tears, and tears were running down his golden cheeks. His face was so beautiful in the moonlight that the little Swallow was filled with pity.

"Who are you?" he said.

"I am the Happy Prince."

"Why are you weeping then?" asked the swallow; "you have quite drenched me."

"When I was alive and had a human heart," answered the statue, "I did not know what tears were, for I lived in the Palace of Sans-Souci (without care), where sorrow is not allowed to enter. In the daytime I played with my companions in the garden, and in the evening I led the dance in the Great Hall. Round the garden ran a very lofty wall, but I never cared to ask what lay beyond it, everything about me was so beautiful. My courtiers called me the Happy Prince, and happy indeed I was, if pleasure be happiness. So I lived, and so I died. And now that I am dead they have set me up here so high that I can see all the ugliness and all the misery of my city, and though my heart is made of lead yet I cannot choose but weep."

"What, is he not of solid gold?" said the Swallow to himself. He was too polite to make any personal remarks out loud.

"Far away," continued the statue in a low musical voice, "far away in a little street there is a poor house. One of the windows is open, and through it I can see a woman seated at the table. Her face is thin and worn, and she has coarse, red hands, all pricked by the needle, for she is a seamstress. She is embroidering passion-flowers on a satin gown for the loveliest of the Queen's maids-of-honor to wear at the next Court-ball. In a bed in the corner of the room her little boy is lying ill. He has a fever, and is asking for oranges. His mother has nothing to give him but river water, so he is crying. Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow, will you not bring her the ruby out of my sword hilt? My feet are fastened to this pedestal and I cannot move."

"I am waited for in Egypt," said the Swallow. "My friends are flying up and down the Nile and talking to the large lotus-flowers. Soon they will go to sleep in the tomb of the great King. The King is there himself in his painted coffin. He is wrapped in yellow linen, and embalmed with spices. Round his neck is a chain of pale green jade, and his hands are like withered leaves."

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not stay with me for one night, and be my messenger? The boy is so thirsty and the mother is so sad."

"I don't think I like boys," answered the Swallow. "Last summer, when I was staying on the river, there were two rude boys, the miller's sons, who were always throwing stones at me. They never hit me, of course; we swallows fly far too well for that, and besides, I come of a family famous for its agility; but still, it was a mark of disrespect."

But the Happy Prince looked so sad that the little Swallow was sorry. "It is very cold here," he said; "but I will stay with you for one night, and be your messenger."

"Thank you, little Swallow," said the Prince.

So the Swallow picked out the ruby from the Prince's sword, and flew away with it in his beak over the roofs of the town.

He passed by the cathedral tower, where the white marble angels were sculptured. He passed by the palace and heard the sound of dancing. A beautiful girl came out on the balcony with her lover. "How wonderful the stars are," he said to her, "and how wonderful is the power of love!" "I hope my dress will be ready in time for the State-ball," she answered; "I have ordered passion-flowers to be embroidered on it; but the seamstresses are so lazy."

He passed over the river, and saw the lanterns hanging to the masts of the ships. At last he came to the poor house and looked in. The boy was tossing feverishly on his bed, and the mother had fallen asleep, she was so tired. In he hopped, and laid the great ruby on the table beside the woman's thimble. Then he flew gently round the bed, fanning the boy's forehead with his wings. "How cool I feel," said the boy, "I must be getting better;" and he sank into a delicious slumber.

Then the Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, and told him what he had done. "It is curious," he remarked, "but I feel quite warm now, although it is so cold."

"That is because you have done a good action," said the Prince. And the little Swallow began to think, and then fell asleep. Thinking always made him sleepy.

When day broke he flew down to the river and had a bath. "To-night I go to Egypt," he said, and he was in high spirits at the prospect. He visited all the public monuments, and sat a long time on top of the church steeple. Wherever he went sparrows chirruped, and said to each other, "What a distinguished stranger!" so he enjoyed himself very much.

When the moon rose he flew back and said to the Happy Prince: "Have you any commissions for Egypt? I am just starting."

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not stay with me one night longer? Far away across the city I see a young man in a garret. He is leaning over a desk covered with papers, and in a tumbler by his side there is a bunch of withered violets. His hair is brown and crisp and his lips are red as a pomegranate, and he has large and dreamy eyes. He is trying to finish a play for the Director of the Theatre, but he is too cold to write any more. There is no fire in the grate, and hunger has made him faint."

"I will wait one night longer," said the Swallow, who had a good heart. "Shall I take him another ruby?"

"Alas! I have no ruby now," said the Prince; "my eyes are all that I have left. They are made of rare sapphires which were brought out of India a thousand years ago. Pluck out one of them and take it to him. He will sell it to the jeweller, and buy food and firewood, and finish his play."

"Dear Prince," said the Swallow, "I cannot do that"; and he began to weep.

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "do as I command you."

So the Swallow plucked out the Prince's eye, and flew away to the student's garret. It was easy enough to get in, as there was a hole in the roof. Through this he darted, and came into the room. The young man had his head buried in his hands, so he did not hear the flutter of the bird's wings, and when he looked up he found the beautiful sapphire lying on the withered violets.

"I am beginning to be appreciated," he cried; "this is from some great admirer. Now I can finish my play," and he looked quite happy.

The next day the Swallow flew down to the harbor. He sat on the mast of a large vessel and watched the sailors hauling big chests out of the hold with ropes. "I am going to Egypt!" cried the Swallow, but nobody minded, and when the moon rose he flew back to the Happy Prince.

"I am come to bid you good-bye," he cried.

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "will you not stay with me one night longer?"

"It is winter," answered the Swallow, "and the chill snow will soon be here. In Egypt the sun is warm on the green palm-trees, and the crocodiles lie in the mud and look lazily about them."

"In the square below," said the Happy Prince, "there stands a little match-girl. She has let her matches fall in the gutter, and they are all spoiled. Her father will beat her if she does not bring home some money, and she is crying. She has no shoes or stockings, and her little head is bare. Pluck out my other eye, and give it to her, and her father will not beat her."

"I will stay with you one night longer," said the Swallow, "but I cannot pluck out your eye. You would be quite blind then."

"Swallow, Swallow, little Swallow," said the Prince, "do as I command you."

So he plucked out the Prince's other eye, and darted down with it. He swooped past the match-girl, and slipped the jewel into the palm of her hand. "What a lovely bit of glass," cried the little girl; and she ran home laughing.

Then the Swallow came back to the Prince. "You are blind now," he said, "so I will stay with you always."

"No, little Swallow," said the poor Prince, "you must go away to Egypt."

"I will stay with you always," said the Swallow, and he slept at the Prince's feet.

Next day the Swallow flew over the great city, and saw the rich making merry in their beautiful houses, while the beggars were sitting at the gates. He flew into dark lanes, and saw the white faces of starving children looking out listlessly at the black streets. Under the archway of a bridge two little boys were lying in one another's arms to try and keep themselves warm.

Then he flew back and told the Prince what he had seen.

"I am covered with fine gold," said the Prince, "you must take it off leaf by leaf, and give it to my poor; the living always think that gold can make them happy."

Leaf after leaf of the fine gold the Swallow picked off, till the Happy Prince looked quite dull and grey. Leaf after leaf of the fine gold he brought to the poor, and the children's faces grew rosier, and they laughed and played games in the street. "We have bread now!" they cried.

Then the snow came, and after the snow came the frost. The streets looked as if they were made of silver, they were so bright and glistening; long icicles like crystal daggers hung down from the eaves of the houses, everybody went about in furs, and the little boys wore scarlet caps and skated on the ice.

The poor little Swallow grew colder and colder, but he would not leave the Prince, for he loved him too well. He picked up crumbs outside the baker's door, and tried to keep himself warm by flapping his wings.

But at last he knew that he was going to die. He had just enough strength to fly up to the Prince's shoulder once more. "Good-bye, dear Prince!" he murmured, "will you let me kiss your hand?"

"I am glad that you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow," said the Prince, "you have stayed too long here; but you must kiss me on the lips, for I love you."

"It is not to Egypt that I am going," said the Swallow. "I am going to the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, is he not?"

And he kissed the Happy Prince on the lips, and fell down dead at his feet.

At that moment a curious crack sounded inside the statue as if something had broken. The fact is that the leaden heart had snapped right in two. It certainly was a dreadfully hard frost.

Early the next morning the Mayor was walking in the square below in company with the Town Councillors. As they passed the column he looked up at the statue: "Dear me! how shabby the Happy Prince looks!" he said.

"How shabby indeed!" cried the Town Councillors, who always agreed with the Mayor; and they went up to look at it.

"The ruby has fallen out of his sword, his eyes are gone, and he is golden no longer," said the Mayor; "in fact he is little better than a beggar."

"Little better than a beggar," said the Town Councillors.

"And here is actually a dead bird at his feet!" continued the Mayor. "We must really issue a proclamation that birds are not to be allowed to die here." And the Town Clerk made a note of the suggestion.

So they pulled down the statue of the Happy Prince. "As he is no longer beautiful he is no longer useful," said the Art Professor at the University.

Then they melted the statue in a furnace and the Mayor held a meeting of the Corporation to decide what was to be done with the metal. "We must have another statue, of course," he said, "and it shall be a statue of myself."

"Of myself," said each of the Town Councillors, and they quarreled. When I last heard of them they were quarreling still.

"What a strange thing!" said the overseer at the foundry. "This broken lead heart will not melt in the furnace. We must throw it away." So they threw it on a dust heap where the dead swallow was also lying.

"Bring me the two most precious things in the city," said God to one of His Angels; and the Angel brought Him the leaden heart and the dead bird.

"You have rightly chosen," said God, "for in my garden of Paradise this little bird shall sing for evermore, and in my city of gold the Happy Prince shall praise me."

--_Oscar Wilde.
Courtesy of Augustus R. Keller and Company._

It would be too bad to mar this beautiful story by asking
questions about it. This is a story to tell. Your teacher, or
perhaps the class, will decide who is to come to the front of the
room and tell the story. It would be a good Christmas story.

CAN YOU FOLLOW DIRECTIONS?

This exercise is given to see if you can follow directions. Follow
each direction as you read it. Do not wait for others to start,
but begin now.

1. Arrange your paper with your name on the first line and your
grade on the second. At the left hand side of your paper number
the next ten lines from number 1 to number 10.

2. The words NAME IS A JOHN BOY'S do not make a good sentence, but
if the words are arranged in order they form a good sentence: JOHN
IS A BOY'S NAME. This sentence is true. In the same way, the words
BOOKS MADE IRON OF ARE, in this order do not make a good sentence,
but arranged in the right order they form a good sentence: BOOKS
ARE MADE OF IRON. This sentence is not true.

3. Here are ten groups of words which can be rearranged into good
sentences. When they are rearranged in their right order, some
will be true and some will be false. Look at the first set of
words. Do not write the words in their right order, but see what
they would say if rearranged. If what they would say is true,
write the word _true_ after figure 1 on your paper; but if what
they would say is not true, write the word _false_ after figure 1.
Do this with each group of words.

1. shepherd the his good sheep cares for.
2. Pigeons carry frequently used war to were messages.
3. usually elected kings for are four years.
4. from get caterpillar we called a silk-worm the silk.
5. live the far-away Eskimos sandy hot in deserts the.
6. and coal mined the cotton south are in.
7. sail Spain three set Columbus from great steamships with.
8. chief of England the city Philadelphia is.
9. our days long summer and hot are.
10. noted California trees is big its for.

FEEDING FRENCH CHILDREN

You should all begin reading at the same moment. Your teacher will
time you and tell you how long it takes you to read this
selection. But do not hurry, for you will be asked to tell the
class the things you remember best.

Maybe you had a big brother or sister or cousin or aunt or uncle
who, during the great war, worked under the Red Cross in France.
If you did, he or she may have written home just such letters as
this one, which a big sister wrote to her little brothers in
America. As you read, see if you do not think she must be a very
pleasant, friendly big sister, not only to her own little
brothers, but also to the little French children.

Do you wish you had been born in France and that your names were Jean, and René, and Etienne instead of Bill and George Albert and Ben? And do you wish you wore black sateen aprons instead of woolly blue sweaters?

The reason I began to write you this letter is that yesterday afternoon I put on my hat and coat when I ought to have been working, and went to visit some French schools. I went with twenty fine people who all wore Red Cross uniforms.

The reason I went is very interesting. For three years, while all the men and the big boys in France have been fighting, their mothers and sisters and all the children whom they had to leave behind them have been getting poorer and thinner and hungrier. You see, since the men have gone to war there haven't been enough of them left to grow the wheat and run the machinery which makes the bread. Well, as I said, the mothers and the little children got thinner and poorer and hungrier, but the last thing of all that they gave up was a luncheon they served in the afternoon in the schools to the smallest and poorest children. It was such a little luncheon that they called it "the taste", but finally they had to give up even that; and then when the time came to eat, the children, who were just as brave as soldiers, had to pretend they weren't hungry at all. They went without that luncheon for a number of months, and then an American doctor decided that the boys and girls in that part of Paris must have that luncheon again. So the doctor rented a bakeshop and he got a ton of nice white American flour, and hundreds and hundreds of cans of American condensed milk, and a very great deal of sugar and some other things, and went to work making buns. And the reason I went to the schools yesterday was to help give out the buns and chocolate for the children's "taste".

I suppose you think that one bun and one piece of chocolate wasn't much--and we thought so too when we saw all those hungry little faces, and their little legs that looked quite hollow--but the children thought it was fine. They were so polite, boys! When we marched into their classrooms they all stood up and saluted us as if they had been soldiers. They showed us their copy books and told us what the lesson was. In one class the master himself was quite scared because he wanted to speak English to make us feel at home. But he made us a fine speech, saying how thankful they all were to their American friends for being so generous to them. He thanked us especially for thinking of the children and for trying to help them when their fathers were away fighting. Then he asked the boys whose fathers or brothers were in the war to raise their hands, and, do you know, almost every boy could raise his hand. They were proud to do it, too. Their hands went up quickly and some of them waved--as you do when you especially want the teacher to pay attention to you. The master asked the boys whose fathers would never come back to raise their hands, and there were so many of them that we could hardly bear to count them; and this time the hands went up very slowly and their faces were very, very sober.

In the first school we went to, the big hall was decorated with a long string of American flags. Every one was drawn very carefully, and then colored with crayons by the littlest children. There were paper chains, too, made out of red, white, and blue paper; and finally, when the buns came in, the baskets were all decorated with the American flag because the American people had given the bread.

The boys all marched into the hall in a long, long line, and, Bill and Junior and Ben, I was so afraid that there wouldn't be enough buns to go around! They marched up to the baskets, their little wooden shoes making a terrible clatter on the stone floor; and every boy got a bun in one hand and a bar of chocolate in the other, and every boy said "Thank you" in French, very politely. I don't think even the smallest forgot that, though some of them were so excited that they couldn't march straight and some of them couldn't talk at all plainly, even in French. There was one time when I got very much excited myself. That was when one little boy, in a blue soldier suit just like his father's, said "Thank you" in English. I nearly dropped all the buns I had in my two hands, I was so surprised.

The Mayor of the district, who probably seemed like the President of the United States to most of the children, made a speech and told them how sorry the Americans had been that they couldn't have their lunch in the afternoon, and how the Americans wanted them to be strong and well and happy and had given them the buns and the chocolate to help, and he talked to them in such a pleasant voice and in such a loving sort of way, that when he said he wanted them to shout, "Vive l'Amerique!" which means, "Hurrah for the United States of America!" they shouted--really and truly shouted--just as if they'd been little American boys.

At the next school, we went to the building where the tiniest children of all learned their kindergarten games. They marched for us, and sang a little song about the good "Saint Christopher", who was kind to little children; and a little boy who had lost his mother and father in the war and who was really too little to understand, said a very polite speech to us and promised us that he and his little friends would always remember how kind the Americans had been to them. He was so tiny that he hid his head in the teacher's apron when he had finished.

Finally we went to the biggest school of all, and there we found a great hall filled with classes of little girls, all dressed in black, all looking so pale and thin and sad that we were glad to think that perhaps the buns and chocolates we had brought would--in a month or two--bring some color into their poor little faces, and perhaps even put some fat on their wrists and hands that were so thin they seemed like birds' claws. One of the older girls had made a fine big panel picture here showing the children eating their buns and chocolates and capering up and down just as I've seen somebody caper a bit when he was going to have--was it ice cream for Sunday dinner?

At the end, the nice old Mayor made another speech, in which he told us a little bit of how brave the children had been when they were hungry, and how glad he was that they were now going to have the American food, and then he thanked us all over again. So, then, one of the American doctors said that when we came over here to France with our men, our food, and our love, we weren't making gifts, we were just trying to pay the debt that America had owed to France since Lafayette and his men came across the sea to help us in our war. Then the doctor told us how the Arabs believe that people who once eat even a tiny piece of bread together will always be friends, so the little children and their teachers, and the nice old Mayor, and all the Americans from the Red Cross ate some of the American buns and--that is the end of the story!

--"_National School Service._"

GENEVIEVE'S LETTER

Here is part of a letter written by a nine-year-old French girl to
girls of the William Penn High School, Philadelphia, who had
"adopted" her as their "war orphan". After you read it, tell what
kind of little girl you think she is.

Dear Sisters: I have just received your letter. I am much touched by your kindness to me, and for your generous hearts. I am contented to find among you so many devoted new sisters for the poor orphan of this unfortunate war, which has killed all our fathers. Dear Sisters, I don't want you to see a like war with you, for it is too frightful and too sad. I shall not speak any more about it; that gives too much trouble.

You ask me of what I have the greatest need; indeed, that will be a dress if that is possible for you; for mamma does not want us to abuse your good hearts. The dress, I should like to see it dark blue, for up to now I have always worn black and white. Mamma permits me now to wear blue, and I think that will be becoming.

Mamma has made little economies of money. She is going to have my photograph taken, and I am going to send them. I think that will give you pleasure, and I will write to you often. I do not forget you in my morning and evening prayers. Once again, thanks, all these sisters whom I do not know. But if I have the good fortune to grow up, I will see you all with pleasure.

TRAVEL

If you have a strong imagination and have read and have liked your
geography and, perhaps, some books of travel, you will enjoy this
poem. As you read see how many different places are hinted at.
Read the poem through; close your book, and make a list of all you
can remember.

I should like to rise and go
Where the golden apples grow;--
Where below another sky
Parrot islands anchored lie,
And, watched by cockatoos and goats,
Lonely Crusoes building boats;--
Where in sunshine reaching out
Eastern cities, miles about,
Are with mosque and minaret
Among sandy gardens set,
And the rich goods from near and far
Hang for sale in the bazaar;--
Where the Great Wall round China goes,
And on one side the desert blows,
And with bell and voice and drum,
Cities on the other hum;--
Where are forests, hot as fire,
Wide as England, tall as a spire,
Full of apes and cocoanuts
And the negro hunters' huts;--
Where the knotty crocodile
Lies and blinks in the Nile,
And the red flamingo flies
Hunting fish before his eyes;--
Where in jungles, near and far,
Man-devouring tigers are,
Lying close and giving ear
Lest the hunt be drawing near,
Or a comer-by be seen
Swinging in a palanquin;--
Where among the desert sands
Some deserted city stands,
All its children, sweep and prince,
Grown to manhood ages since,
Not a foot in street or house,
Not a stir of child or mouse,
And when kindly falls the night,
In all the town no spark of light.
There I'll come when I'm a man
With a camel caravan;
Light a fire in the gloom
Of some dusky dining room;
See the pictures on the walls,
Heroes, fights, and festivals;
And in a corner find the toys
Of the old Egyptian boys.
--_Robert Louis Stevenson._

HOW THE WISH CAME TRUE

Not every child who plans how some day he is going to travel has a
chance to carry out his plans. But Robert Louis Stevenson travelled
far enough to see nearly all the places he dreamed of. He did not
travel just for pleasure, however; his health was so poor that he
wandered all over the world to find a climate where he could live.
The place he found was an island in the Southern Pacific, one of a
group called Samoa, where he spent all the last years of his life.
Stevenson was a man who made friends wherever he went. In Samoa the
natives loved him dearly. Their name for him was Tusitala, "the
Teller of Tales," because he wrote such wonderful stories.

RULES FOR USING THE EYES

Read the following rules through once; then cover the page with a
sheet of paper, and answer the questions.

1. When reading, writing, or doing other close work, be sure to have good, clear light, preferably over the left shoulder if writing, and not directly in the eyes nor reflected sharply from the paper.

2. Do not hold your work less than 12 inches from your eyes.

3. Do not use the eyes too long continuously--rest them a few minutes occasionally by closing them or by looking into the distance to relax them. One should do this at least every hour, especially if reading fine type or doing intense, delicate work.

4. Keep away from places where stone chips, sparks, or emery dust is flying. If you have to work where such dangers exist, wear goggles.

5. If strong light bothers you, wear slightly brown non-magnifying glasses outdoors, with a broad-brimmed hat.

6. Avoid the common towel and do not rub the eyes with dirty hands. Contagious eye disease is spread in these two ways.

QUESTIONS

1. Give two rules about the right use of light for reading,
writing, etc.

2. How far from your eyes should you hold your book?

3. Give the rule for resting the eyes.

4. How can you avoid danger from sparks, emery dust and stone
chips?

5. What should you do if strong light bothers you?

6. Why should you not use a dirty towel or rub your eyes with
dirty hands?

ACTING FOR THE MOVIES

Would you like to go behind the screen and see a great film
produced--to see the hundreds of men and women and horses and
costumes and properties that are necessary to produce a thrilling
story? Would you like to take a part in the picture, and dress up
in one of the costumes, and ride before the clicking cameras?

See whether you can take one of these brief scenes and, by reading
carefully all that the paragraph tells you, picture it before the
class so vividly that the class will know which scene you are
reproducing. That is what the actor must do every time a film is
produced. You may take anything in the room that will help you in
making the picture true to the story. You must remember that your
success depends upon how well you can express your thought and
feeling through your face and hands and body.

1. He sat on the bank eagerly watching every little ripple on the water and Jack sat beside him, not understanding the game at all nor why his master should have become so lazy. Suddenly, Tom jumped up and, pulling in the line with a jerk, danced wildly about, while Jack, now as excited as his master, barked furiously at the tiny wiggles on the end of the line.

2. Suddenly he drew in his horse and listened anxiously--was that the far off rumble of guns? Could the battle have begun?

3. Lawrence counted the change in his hand carefully, wondering whether the amount he held was just enough or just too little. Every now and then he glanced up anxiously, just to make sure that the price-tag in the window was still $4.50 and that the cost of the football had not in some miraculous manner grown to $14.50.

4. The king's wise men and learned doctors brought down great books in which were written all the laws of the kingdom. They traced through long pages with trembling fingers and anxious, frowning eyes. At the end of each page they would shake their heads and mutter among themselves, and as they closed the last ponderous volume they approached the king with many gestures of despair. "We cannot find an answer written in all the Books of the Kingdom, your majesty."

5. I saw some one drawing slowly near along the road. He was plainly blind, for he tapped before him with a stick, and wore a great green shade over his eyes and nose; and he was hunched, as if with age or weakness, and wore a large, old, tattered sea-cloak with a hood, that made him appear positively deformed. I never saw a more dreadful looking figure. He stopped a little from the inn, and raising his voice in an odd sing-song, addressed the air in front of him.

6. Jerry knew that his life would hang in the balance for the next few minutes, but he hoped that by hugging close to the shadows of the wall, and by not making a sound, he could pass by the careless group around the fire. He crouched down in despair when one of the men turned and apparently looked accusingly at his particular shadow on the wall. But the man made no sign and Jerry crept on.

7. One day on their daily rounds they found a disagreeable surprise awaiting them at the lake. Their beaver traps were all sprung and were all empty. There was a light snow on the ground and they stooped to examine the signs left by the thief in his hurry. An unmistakable trail led off down the river and they followed it eagerly until a shift in the wind brought more snow and the tracks were covered.

CLEAR THINKING

The following problems are to be answered without the use of
figures. Read each problem carefully and decide whether your
answer should be _yes_ or _no_. Each question requires one or the
other of these words; no other answer will be counted correct. Put
the answer to the first question on the first line, and in the
margin of the paper, mark it number 1. Use a separate line for
each problem and be sure to number your answer to correspond. If
you are not sure of the answer, guess at it and pass on to the
next problem. When you have finished, sign your name and grade at
the bottom of the paper, and wait quietly for the others.

1. It took George thirty-one seconds to read these directions carefully. John read them in twenty-seven seconds. Can George read faster than John?

2. Mary was born in February, 1910. Her cousin, Marion, is four months older. Was Marion born in 1910?

3. John went with his two brothers to the park. One brother spent twenty-five cents, the other spent thirty cents. John spent more than these two together. In all did they spend more than one dollar?

4. When flour sells at eight cents per pound, I can get a barrel for twelve dollars. A barrel of flour weighs almost two hundred pounds. Would I save more than a dollar by purchasing flour by the barrel?

5. My father bought a talking-machine for sixty-five dollars, and a dozen records for twenty-five dollars more. Will a hundred dollar bill pay for both?

6. The regulation boy-scout pace calls for a mile in twelve minutes. Could a good scout cover four miles in an hour?

7. Coffee grows only in tropical countries. Do you think we import much from Alaska?

THE LAND OF EQUAL CHANCE

This little play gives you a chance to pretend that you are a star
actor or actress; for the central character, Young America, is you.

In order to succeed in a land of equal chance, Young America will
need four things. Find what they are. Can you tell how each thing
will help him?

Time: January, 19--. Place: At the edge of the land. On either side of the stage there are two small curtained windows. At the centre of the stage, back, are two long steps leading to a dark, closed curtain. Enter from one side Father Time, from the other Mother Space.

FATHER TIME.--Happy New Year, Mother Space! What do you carry so carefully?

MOTHER SPACE.--Shall I let you see? (_Unrolls her large map._) See, a land of rocks and rills, of woods and templed hills. Here are the broad prairies, here the great mountains full of treasure, and down here the sweet, warm southern fields.

F. T. (_Looks at the unrolled scroll._)--That seems to be a map of the United States.

M. S.--Most people call it that. I call it the Land-of-Equal-Chance.

F. T.--An excellent name!