Harper's Young People, May 3, 1881 / An Illustrated Weekly
Date: 2014-04-07T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Children's periodicals; American

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Harper's Young People, May 3, 1881

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: Harper's Young People, May 3, 1881

Author: Various

Release date: April 7, 2014 [eBook #45345]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/45345

Credits: Produced by Annie R. McGuire

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, MAY 3, 1881 ***

THREE SISTERS.
BITS OF ADVICE.
IN THE DEEP BLUE SEA.
BOUND FOR AMERICA.
BEATING THE PARISH BOUNDS.
A WILD OCEAN RIDE.
OUR BABY AGAIN.
PHIL'S FAIRIES.
OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.

Vol. II.—No. 79. | Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. | Price Four Cents.
Tuesday, May 3, 1881. | Copyright, 1881, by Harper & Brothers. | $1.50 per Year, in Advance.

GATHERING THE MAY-FLOWERS.

A May-Day Story for Girls

BY KATE UPSON CLARK.

"'Across the little covered bridge, and then along the village street about quarter of a mile.' Do go on, mother."

Pidgie Mullen looked up at her pale mother with a sweet, flushed eagerness, which brought her a trembling kiss, as Mrs. Mullen answered, "You know the story better than I do now, dear!"

"Yes," said little invalid Belle from her pillow on the lounge, "and then you turned up the narrow north road—a very, very shady, cold road—and went up hill, and up hill, and up hill. Oh, you tell it, mother, you make it so much nicer!"

So the tired little mother, working hard from day to day for her fatherless young brood, waited a few moments before lighting the evening lamp for her sewing, and told the girls for the five-hundredth time the lovely story of how she used to go "May-flowering" when she was a little girl. Just as she was closing, a light step was heard on the stairs, and in came Cherry. Cherry was fifteen, and she took care every day—coming home at night—of the children of Mrs. Lester, in the big house around the corner.

"I heard you before I opened the door," she began, laughing, and kissing her mother. "I knew it was the same old story, and that you had just about got to the place where you fell into the brook, and the arbutus went sailing off down stream. I declare I'd enjoy hearing it over again myself."

"Not to-night," said her mother, smiling. "I must go to work now, and you will have to rub Belle, and give her her medicine, and put her to bed."

The short hour of rest was over, and Mrs. Mullen turned wearily again to her sewing. Pidgie took up her books and began to study, and Cherry and Belle went into the little bedroom close by, where Cherry gently undressed her feeble little sister.

"Oh, Cherry," said Belle, who, though only two years younger than Cherry, was no taller than ten-year-old Pidgie, and not nearly so heavy—"oh, Cherry, it seems as though if I could only go up to that dear little village where mother used to live, and get some May-flowers, and smell them, and the fresh earth! Oh, Cherry!"—the tears streamed down the child's thin cheeks—"I wouldn't tell mother for the world, for I know she would feel so badly; but I'm so very, very tired of the city, and I seem to grow sicker and sicker."

"It isn't very nice up in the country in this April weather," said Cherry, cheerfully. "The roads are muddy, and there's lots of rain and snow. Mother says it's often horrid."

"Only," interrupted Belle, "when there is a pleasant day, it is perfectly splendid."

"Yes," said Cherry, doubtfully, "but I fancy they don't come more than once a week or so."

"Oh yes," cried Belle, deprecatingly, "oftener than that."

"It costs nearly four dollars a ticket to go up there, too," continued Cherry.

"Yes, I know"—Belle spoke a trifle crossly and impatiently, she was so tired, and so weak, and so seldom "had anything"—"I know I can't go, but it must smell very sweet up there; and oh! I'd love to go."

"Dear little sister," said Cherry, tucking her in tenderly, and setting a tumbler of water and a call-bell and the camphor bottle on the little stand by the bedside, "maybe we'll have things some time." She kissed Belle softly, and then went back to sit by her mother. Soon her needle was flying fast too. Cherry was a good girl, and they all depended a great deal upon her.

"Your story reminds me, mother," said Cherry, as she sewed, "that I saw some bunches of May-flowers for sale when I was out walking with the children to-day."

"Did you?" said Mrs. Mullen, in some surprise. "They are very early this year."

"Yes," said Cherry, absently. "I asked the woman how much they cost, and she said twenty-five cents, but that they would be ten by a week more."

"I wish that we could pick a few bushels from the great banks of them that stretch along by the brook that I have told you about."

"Are there so many as that?" Cherry's voice was full of astonishment, and Pidgie looked up from her book, and began to grow interested.

"Oh yes," said her mother, "and back on the hill there are banks more that open later."

Cherry thought hard that night until she fell asleep. The next day she had a long conversation with Mrs. Lester, and at night she had another one with her mother.

"Dear Cherry," Mrs. Mullen said, as Cherry rose at last to cover the fire and go to bed, "if you can get the money, and if you feel sure that you can take the whole charge of Belle and all, why, I'll write up to my old school-mate, Mrs. Rogers—how I'd love to see her again!—and I'm sure that she would keep you; but I don't see how you'll ever do it."

But in less than a week after this conversation, such was Cherry's business-like promptness, a hack came to the door and bore Cherry and pale little Belle, in whose tired eyes a new light was shining, to the railroad station; and late in the afternoon they alighted at the door of the big, old-fashioned mansion in Clearpond, where Mrs. Rogers lived, and where they were very near the house in which Mrs. Mullen had lived twenty years before. Alas! the dear grandfather and grandmother and the uncles and aunts were all dead or scattered now!

Belle had borne the journey wonderfully well. It is amazing how much happiness will help us to bear!

The secret of all this was that Cherry, as you must have already suspected, had determined in her own quick, brave little mind, to take Belle and come up into the country to pick May-flowers!

Early the next morning, having fixed Belle up as well as she could, and promising to bring her some May-flowers by noon, Cherry set off to see what she could see.

"Across the little covered bridge," just as her mother had said, "about a quarter of a mile through the village street, then a sharp turn to the right, then up the narrow, cold north road."

A steep tug for half a mile. Then into the pastures. Ah! how lovely it was! Cherry looked off, and saw the river below, and beyond it the mountain that her mother had so often told her about. The day was one of those rare sunny ones that Belle had hoped for. The sunlight seemed to sift through the air in even, kindly measure upon everything. Cherry sat down upon a big stone, and warmed and rested herself after her long, cold journey up "the very, very shady road." Then she fell to work: Alas! alas! she found the green leaves of the arbutus, which she knew very well, all about—by poking for them under the brown covering of last year's twigs and foliage—but though there were green buds in profusion, she found only half a dozen tiny half-opened fragrant blossoms.

"Well," thought Cherry, bravely, but, after all, with a sinking at heart, for she feared that the flowers wouldn't open for a week, "it's better to be too early than too late, and Mrs. Lester has said that I might stay a month—but I do wish that they were open now."

As she walked down the quiet road she felt very lonesome.

"How nice it would be," she wished, "if Belle would only get well enough to climb the hill with me!" But Cherry sighed. She feared that dear little Belle would never get well enough to climb such a hill as that. Altogether Cherry felt a bit blue. As she neared the pretty village, however, she remembered the myriads of buds that she had left behind her, and how happy Belle was, and before she had taken her hat off, these thoughts, and the sunshine, and the sweet spring smells that were blowing all about her on the soft spring breezes, had brought a color to her face and a gayety to her manner that quite overcame little Belle, waiting with almost pathetic eagerness at the window to welcome her return.

"I tried to lie down—I really did, Cherry," she said; "but I thought I'd walk out into Aunty Rogers's garden—she says always call her Aunty Rogers—and see her daffodils, and I did."

"You did!" cried Cherry, her cup of delight overflowing. "What! after that journey, and everything? Why, it's splendid! But I'm afraid you've overdone."

"Oh no." Belle's happy voice did not sound at all alarming.

"See here," said Cherry, drawing out a spray of arbutus from her basket. "Almost May-flowers, Belle. Just smell of them." The half-opened little buds were indeed as fragrant as though they were in their prime.

The sick girl's face flushed. She ran to the lounge, and hid her face in the pillow.

"Oh, Cherry," she cried, looking up a moment later, tearful but smiling, "if mamma were only here, I should be perfectly happy!"

Just then Aunty Rogers came in to call them to supper.

"Well, well," she said, pleasantly, "I can't see what folks dew think so much o' them little May-flowers for. I'm sure my daffies is a great deal handsomer. But then they be sweet-scented, May-flowers be, and I'm glad they're here, seeing you like 'em."

That night the little spray was placed in a vase by Belle's camphor bottle on the table.

"I don't believe I'll want the camphor to-night, Cherry," she said; "the May-flowers'll be all I'll want. If I wake up in the night, I'll smell of them." And, at the risk of anticipating my story a little, I must tell you that the camphor bottle was never put back again.

The next day was a warm and showery one, a hot sun blazing out between the quiet little rains. Cherry did not go up on the hill at all. In fact, young and strong as she was, and soundly as she had slept on Aunty Rogers's plump feather-bed, she was a trifle lame after her unaccustomed exertions of the day before.

"If it's May-flowers you want," said Aunty Rogers, as she looked out at the April weather, "this'll fetch 'em quicker'n anything else, an' there'll be more'n a fortnit of 'em, countin' in them that's back on the hill. They're dretful late."

It was only five o'clock the next morning when Cherry Mullen stepped briskly up the "cold north road." She carried with her two big market-baskets. Aunty Rogers had assured her that if she only looked "long-side o' them clumps o' laurels that's scattered on the west side, across from the old Thayer place," she would find plenty of arbutus after such a day as the one before. So Cherry felt very comfortable in the bright morning, as she marched along, munching a big slice of bread and butter with great zeal.

She went home at ten, and though she had to take one market-basket empty—for she was still a little hasty in her expectations—the other was quite full of such delicate, fragrant, rose-tinted arbutus as grows only, I believe, in Clearpond.

Once home, you would have thought that Cherry would have thrown herself on the lounge to rest, for she was pretty tired; but she did no such thing. On the contrary, she sat down with a pair of scissors, beside the mass of pink fragrant blossoms, and industriously culled and clustered the brightest among them, under the delighted supervision of dear little Belle, into dozens of sweet little bouquets, each with its sprig of "running pine," and its bright furbishing of partridge or checker berries. These she sprinkled, and bringing out from her trunk a mysterious roll, which Belle had inquired about several times, she cut off a generous allowance of cotton batting, dampened it, and carefully surrounding her precious little nosegays with it, she put them into a box, tied it up, and sent it by the noon train to "Miss Pidgie Mullen."

The train reached the city at four o'clock, and a bright, modest little girl was at the station to welcome it, and to bear away the box as soon as the express agent could hand it to her. Cherry had told her just how to do it.

Then catching a car, she was soon at a certain prominent street, where she got off. The gentlemen and ladies who were sauntering along this street presently saw such an array of fresh spring blossoms before them that very few of them felt that they could resist buying, for ten cents, a bunch of the lovely things, and by a little after six Pidgie's boxful was entirely gone.

Then she ran home, and up the narrow, creaking stairs her light step passed more lightly and joyously than ever.

"I meant to save one for you, mamma," she cried, excitedly; "but a gentleman came along just as I was starting for home, and he said, 'None left?' 'Only one.' I told him I was going to take that to my mother. 'Won't this do just as well?' he said, and he held up a silver quarter. 'Oh, it's only ten cents,' I told him. 'But if I take your mother's,' he said, 'of course I ought to pay more,' and he took the bunch—it was such a sweet bunch, mamma!—and tossed me the quarter. And just look here!" and Pidgie emptied her porte-monnaie, full of shining silver pieces, into her mother's lap.

This kind of life was continued by the Mullens for nearly a month. The grand event of that month up in the country was the celebration of the 1st of May, a week after Cherry and Belle had arrived there. This consisted—as the 1st of May was one of the very sunniest and most delightful that ever was seen—of a kind of picnic, in which Aunty Rogers and her husband participated, and which was actually attended by Belle. She was carried up to the pasture in Mr. Rogers's wagon, scrambled out to the arbutus beds on her own little feet, with Cherry's help, and finding a seat on a big warm rock beside the little brook, ate some of Aunty Rogers's nice sandwiches there with a relish which a week before was quite unknown to her.

Then there was a surprise. Mr. Rogers had built a fire, hung a kettle over it between some crotched sticks, and was soon stirring with a long stick a mass of golden-colored liquid, which gave out an odor that Cherry declared was almost as good as that of her beautiful flowers. Before long Mr. Rogers conducted her and Belle to a cool, shady place, just on the edge of the woods, where the sun had spared, as in several other similar spots, a great solid snow-drift. From this the top was scraped smoothly away, leaving a shining hard white surface, on which Aunty Rogers dropped spoonful after spoonful of the clear, fragrant syrup, which hardened as it touched the snow into delicious maple wax. The girls had never eaten anything so nice before, and they thought that they never had enjoyed themselves quite so well as in the sunshine of that exquisite May-day, picking sweet flowers, watching the swift, sparkling little brook, and eating the delicious sugar that had been made only the March before from Mr. Rogers's own maple-trees. Belle said that she gained a whole pound of flesh that day, and indeed perhaps she did. She certainly gained several pounds before the time came for them to go back to the city again.

For that time did really come, just before the May glided into June. Nearly every day during the delightful four weeks of their happy visit Cherry had trudged early up to the pasture with her baskets, coming back in time to make up her sweet bouquets for the noon train, and resting through the long pleasant afternoons; and every day in the city, when school was done, a merry, tidy little girl hurried down to the express office, and back to the busy streets laden with the fresh pink nosegays, for which the frequenters of those streets soon learned to watch with interest, and which they bought generously. Indeed, Pidgie's demands, like Oliver Twist's, for "more," grew so urgent, and her reports of her profits were so encouraging, that Cherry had to employ one of the neighbors' boys to go up in the pastures with her every morning during the last ten days of her stay. But she did not have to get any one to help her "make them up," for Belle, under the longed-for country air and sights and sounds, grew able to help her herself, and before she went home she could do quite the lion's share of that work.

BITS OF ADVICE.

HOW TO BEHAVE AT THE TABLE.

BY AUNT MARJORIE PRECEPT.

"I wish my mother would never have company. A fellow can't get enough to eat when people are staring at him."

As I was visiting Frank's mother at the time, I thought this remark was rather personal. I suppose I blushed. At any rate, Frank at once added,

"Now, Aunt Marjorie, I did not mean you when I said that; I meant strangers, like ministers, and gentlemen from out West, and young ladies."

"Oh," said I, "I am very glad to be an exception, and to be assured that I do not embarrass you. Really, Frank, it is an unfortunate thing to be so diffident that you can not take a meal in comfort when guests are at the table. I suppose you do not enjoy going out to dine yourself?"

"No," he said; "I just hate it."

Perhaps one reason why boys and girls do not feel so comfortable and so at ease as they might on special occasions at the table is because they do not take pains to be perfectly polite when there is no one present but the ordinary home folks. In the first place, we owe it to ourselves always to look very neat and nice at our own tables. Nobody should presume to sit down to a meal without making a proper toilet beforehand. Boys ought to be careful that their hair is brushed, their hands and faces clean, their nails free from stain and soil, and their collars and ties in order before they approach the table. A very few moments spent in this preparation will freshen them up, and give them the outward appearance of little gentlemen. I hope girls do not need to be cautioned thus.

Then there are some things which good manners render necessary, but about which every one is not informed. Of course you know that you are not to eat with your knife. Fifty years ago people frequently ate with their knives, and it is quite possible that now and then you may see some old-fashioned person doing so; but it is not customary now, nor is it safe or convenient. When you send your plate for a second helping, or when it is about to be removed, you should leave your knife and fork side by side upon it.

It is not polite to help yourself too generously to butter. Salt should be placed on the edge of the plate, never on the table-cloth. Do not drink with a spoon in the cup, and never drain the very last drop. Bread should be buttered on the plate; and cut a bit at a time, and eaten in that way. Eating should go on quietly, and not hastily. Nothing is worse than to make a noise with the mouth while eating, and to swallow food with noticeable gulps.

Do not think about yourself, and fancy that you are the object of attraction to your neighbors. Poor Frank's unhappy state of mind was caused by his thinking too much about himself, as well as by a little uncertainty as to what were precisely the right things to be done.

IN THE DEEP BLUE SEA.

BY MARGARET EYTINGE

He was a sailor old and bold,
And he had sailed the seas
For forty years and more, and bore
The marks of sun and breeze.
And now to stay at home he'd come,
Delighted with the noise,
That others much perplexed and vexed,
Of many girls and boys.
His sisters' children they, and gay
As any elfish throng,
And never tired they grew, 'tis true,
Of briny tale and song;
And this he told one night, by light
Of stars and silver moon,
And chorus all joined in with din,
But not a scrap of tune.

Oh! it was a party in the deep blue sea—
Fishing-Frog and the Whale were the givers—
One bright summer eve, and their funny finny friends
Came in shoals from the oceans and rivers.
The Skate and his wife skated gayly along,
Making all kinds of comical faces,
And the Drum-fish he drummed, and the Skipper he skipped,
And the Porgy and the Shad swam races.
Sing ri-toodle-dum and ri-toodle-dee
For the jolly old party in the deep blue sea,
Ahoy!

The Pipe-Fish invited the company to smoke,
The Lobster threw somersaults by dozens,
The Pilot-Fish escorted the Prawns and the Shrimps,
And the Crab clan, their queer-looking cousins;
The Saw-Fish and Sword-Fish of saws and swords bragged,
The Flat-Fish and Gudgeons round them flocking,
And Torpedo and the Eel (the electric) behaved
In a way that was really most shocking.
Sing ri-toodle-dum and ri-toodle-dee
For the merry old party in the deep blue sea,
Ahoy!

And they splashed, and they dashed, and they spouted and jumped,
And the Flying-Fish flew—such a wonder
And the Walking-Fish walked with his climbing friend Perch,
And the Sea-Lion roared like young thunder.
But at last, near the morn, the Whale gave a yawn,
An example the Fishing-Frog followed,
And the party was quite over when their months closed again,
For the guests, every one had been swallowed.
Sing ri-toodle-dum and ri-toodle-dee
For the jolly old party in the deep blue sea,
Ahoy!

BOUND FOR AMERICA.

BY MATTHEW WHITE, JUN.

The clock in the castle had just sounded forth the hour of noon. It was in the little German town of Hausewitz, and the narrow, roughly paved street that ran in front of the High School was soon filled with students, all wearing tiny green caps set jauntily on the side of the head, and seemingly stuck there with mucilage.

"Yes, Albert," one of a pair was saying, as the two strolled off homeward together, "the time has come to carry out our plan."

"It has," solemnly responded the other, who was rather a delicate-looking youth with blue eyes and yellow hair. "Now or never; but which way shall we go?"

"Oh, I'll attend to that later, if you'll only say you're ready whenever I am;" and Rudolph Schweizer looked down upon his companion (who was a few inches shorter than himself) with a sort of majestic air that he no doubt thought eminently befitting the only son of one of the first lawyers in Hausewitz.

Before Albert could reply, some friends joined them, and the subject was dropped.

Now the project about which there was this touch of mystery was no less a one than that of emigrating to America, in order to escape serving in the army. The lads had selected the United States as their destination, because they imagined that there everybody speedily became possessed of fabulous wealth, as all the tourists from that country who put up for a night or two at the Golden Grape-vine Hotel seemed to be blessed with an unlimited supply of money.

They had been cherishing the scheme for months, and from having talked it over so often it had come to assume to them the proportions of an event that had almost grown into an actuality.

"Come around this afternoon after school, Albert," called out Rudolph, as the friends separated at the market-place. And thus, quarter past four found the two in young Schweizer's room in earnest consultation.

They agreed that the whole enterprise was to be conditional, and that no risks were to be run; that is, if the boys could find no opening at Hamburg for them to work their passage on some vessel to New York, they would return to Hausewitz again, and confess to only going as far as the sea-port, saying nothing about the grander scheme they had had in view.

"You see," explained Rudolph, "we'll divide our plan into air-tight compartments, so to speak, such as they have on the steamers: the first one from here to Hamburg, and the second from there to New York; for if within two weeks, say, after our arrival out there we are not on a straight road to making our fortunes, we can close up the other compartment, and work our way back again. We'll do the thing on first-class business principles, and not in the old-fashioned runaway-boy style. Now how much can you give toward the expenses of our journey to Hamburg? We'd better reckon in dollars, so as to be sure of how much we'll have left when we get to America. The fare from here, second class—"

"But why can't we go third class?" interrupted Albert. "We don't expect to meet any of our friends on the way—or at least it is to be hoped we sha'n't—and then we'd have so much more to help us along in New York."

"All right, then, we'll reckon on third," replied Rudolph, rather impressed by the stern common-sense displayed in the other's reasoning. "But you haven't told me yet how much you have."

After a short calculation, Albert announced as the result that he had saved up about fifteen dollars.

"Good! and I have twenty," exclaimed his friend. "The fare's only five apiece, so we'll have twenty-five left over when we go aboard."

"But we've got to get something to eat, and we must sleep somewhere," put in Albert.

"Oh! it won't take much for two or three meals; and as for sleeping, why, we're sure to find a ship before night, so all we'll have to do will be to tumble into our bunks. Don't you see how nicely it all comes out?" cried Rudolph, enthusiastically. "I can almost imagine myself already walking about the New York streets, with my hands in two pockets full of money, and taking first-cabin passage back again."

"But what do you suppose the folks'll say at home here?" again interposed Albert, who, notwithstanding his readiness to fall in with all his schoolmate's propositions, now and then allowed his own private scruples to come to the surface. "Besides, I don't believe we can come back after running away from the army."

"Don't call it 'running away,'" objected Rudolph. "We're simply going to seek our fortunes like the knights of the olden time, and we prefer to do it in a free country, that's all. Now, then, to details," and during the remainder of the afternoon the two boys were busily employed in making out a list of the articles they should select from among their possessions to stow away in the moderate-sized bag, the capacity of which was to be divided between them.

Now both these lads had kind parents, besides brothers and sisters, and in a manner of their own they were each attached to their respective families; but such considerations as "domestic affections," which was what Rudolph styled his sentimental feelings on the subject, they thought should have no weight where the matter of fortune was concerned.

The all-important day of departure at length arrived, and having succeeded in smuggling the satchel safely out of the house, the two young adventurers hurried through back streets to the station, intending to set out on the 5 p.m. train for Hamburg. On reaching the passengers' waiting-room, they shoved the tell-tale bag under one of the seats, and then went outside to walk up and down in as unconcerned a manner as they could assume.

Suddenly Albert clutched his friend by the arm, and exclaimed, "Look, Rudolph! I'm perfectly sure that fellow's an American"—indicating a youth of about their own age, who was coming from the other end of the platform toward them. "I can tell by the cut of his clothes; and, yes, there's the red guide-book they all carry, under his arm. I wonder if he's on his way back to New York?"

But before very long both boys were too much absorbed in wondering why their train did not come, to bestow a second thought on anything else.

"What can be the matter?" cried Rudolph, anxiously, fearful lest they should not get off until supper-time, when they would be sure to be missed at home.

The American lad too seemed annoyed; and when the three were next brought face to face in their walk, he stopped in front of Albert, and in passable German inquired of the latter if he knew what had delayed the cars. Then they all went to the ticket office, and ascertained from the agent that an accident to an engine ahead had obstructed the track, and in consequence the Hanover and Hamburg train would not arrive at Hausewitz for a half-hour or more.

This information was rather startling to the two runaways, and Albert had made up his mind to confide in their new acquaintance, when Rudolph opened the subject by remarking that they thought of going to America shortly. One question brought on another, and by half past five, in a mixture of German and English, the whole plan of the expedition, together with its wonderful air-tight compartment system, had been poured into the attentive ear of the young American.

"Oh my! how funny!" he exclaimed in English, when he had heard all, and then he fell to laughing so long and heartily that the two German lads began to grow rather red in the face. On observing this the other restrained his merriment, and finding that his new friends were better acquainted with English than he was with German, asked if they would listen to a bit of advice, which they hastened to assure him they would be only too glad to do. "Well, then, to begin with," said the youthful republican, "my name is Edward Sharring, of New York, and I'm travelling in Europe with my father and the family, who are now in Hanover. I've been about a good deal in Germany, and have come to the conclusion that I'd rather be a Prussian officer than anything else."

Edward continued: "Why, boys, do you know what you are undertaking? Work your way on shipboard? In the first place, you'd probably have to hunt a week or two before you could find a ship that would take you; and then, oh my! the rough treatment you'd get from the mates!"

"But we're ready for all that," Rudolph ventured to interpose. "We don't expect to make our fortunes without working for them."

"Well, I must say I admire your pluck," returned the other; "but wait till you hear more. When you arrive in New York, in the course of a month or so after leaving Hamburg, what are you going to do then?"

"Go to work," promptly responded Albert.

"But at what?"

At this question both boys hesitated, and their friend suggested hod-carrying, brick-laying, loading ships, or car-driving.

Now this list was not a very attractive one, nor were these the sort of accomplishments on which the ambitious youths had reckoned. Where should they board, who would befriend them in a strange land, or what were they to do when their clothes wore out and they had no money with which to buy new?

These were pointed questions, and so sharply did the lads' foreign counsellor apply them, that at ten minutes to six Albert drew forth the satchel from its place of concealment, and Rudolph expressed his determination of becoming an officer in the German army.

Five minutes later the train came along, and after a hearty grasp of the hand to each of them, Edward Sharring stepped into a second-class carriage, and was soon whirling off to Hanover.

Luckily the would-be runaways had decided to delay purchasing their tickets until after they had left the town, so there was nothing lost by their honorable "backing out."

"You didn't count the Hausewitz station as one of the air-tight compartments, did you, Rudolph?" said Albert, as the two wended their way home to supper.

"I didn't think we'd need one so soon," replied his friend. "What a nice sort of a chap that New York fellow was, though! and to think he can't be a German officer when he wants to, and I can!"

"So can I, and will, too," added Albert; and thus it came to pass that the army of the Empire was enriched by two recruits, gained for it by a young republican from America.

BEATING THE PARISH BOUNDS.

This is a very ancient custom in England, and one that is particularly interesting to boys, as they have generally taken a very prominent part in it. First, it must be understood that all England is divided into parishes—a division recognized by the civil as well as the ecclesiastical law of the land. A parish is that circuit of ground, whether in the city or country, which is committed to the spiritual care of one clergyman. Now the boundaries of these parishes are very rarely defined by any law, except that of custom; and hence in most places it was and is customary once a year to make a solemn procession around the bounds of the parish.

The time appointed by the Church for this procession is one of the three days before Holy Thursday, or Ascension-day, and it had two acknowledged motives: one, to supplicate the blessing of God on the coming harvest; the other, to preserve a correct knowledge of the parish bounds and rights from one generation to another.

Before the Reformation, these processions were conducted with great pomp. The lord of the manor, carrying a large banner, and the priests, carrying crosses, led the procession, "saying or singing gospels to the growing corn." The principal men and all the boys of the village followed them, and the day ended in feasts and games, with "drinking and good cheer." After the Reformation, Queen Elizabeth ordered the custom to be continued. The curate or minister of the parish was required, at certain places, to stop and give thanks to God, and pray for His blessing on the coming harvest; and when the parish bounds had been clearly defined, the procession was to return with singing to the parish church and listen to the 104th Psalm, and such sentences as "Cursed be he which translateth (altereth) the bounds and doles of his neighbor." Izaak Walton says the great and good Bishop Hooker never by any means omitted this custom, and that during the walk he "would always drop some facetious and loving observations to the boys and young people, still inclining them to mutual kindness and love, because love thinks no evil, but covers a multitude of infirmities."

These processions were justified by the civil law in maintaining the ancient parish bounds, even if they were opposed by the owners of the property over which they beat or walked; and this necessity to keep the old track often caused curious incidents. If a canal had been cut through the bounds, or a river formed part of the line, some one must pass over it; and the lads of the parish were all so ambitious of the honor that it was usually settled by lot. If a house had been erected on the bounds, they claimed and took the right of passing through it. In a house in Buckinghamshire, still standing, the oven only is on the boundary line, and a boy is put into the recess in order to preserve its integrity. A still more comical scene occurred in London about seventy years ago, as the procession of church-wardens and an immense concourse of boys were "beating the bounds" of the famous parish of St. George, Hanover Square. The march was stopped by a nobleman's carriage standing fairly across the boundary line. The carriage was empty, waiting for its owner, who was in the opposite house. The principal church-warden, therefore—who was also a nobleman—desired the coachman to drive out of the way. "I won't," he answered; "my lord told me to wait here, and here I'll wait till his lordship tells me to move." Upon which the church-warden coolly opened the carriage door, entered it, passed out through the opposite door, and was followed by the whole procession, cads, sweeps, and scavengers.

At this time the religious character of the ceremony had been quite lost, and "beating the bounds" had become an excuse for a great deal of rudeness and excess; so that for half a century the custom fell into very general contempt and disuse. However, within the last few years it has been restored in many parishes, and with all those pleasant solemnities that made the good Bishop Hooker regard it so favorably. The clergyman in full canonicals, and the boy choristers in their white robes, singing, lead the procession, which includes now, as it has always done, every lad who can by any means procure a holiday from school or work to follow it.

And surely it is a beautiful custom. How sweet must be the voices of the young choristers singing psalms among the growing corn to Him who maketh the "sun to shine and the rains to descend upon the earth, so that it may bring forth its fruit in due season!"

BEATING THE PARISH BOUNDS.

TOWED BY A WHALE.—Drawn by J. W. Taber.

A WILD OCEAN RIDE.

BY GEORGE H. COOMER.

One of the most exciting scenes with a whale which I ever witnessed occurred while I belonged to the ship Luminary, upon a cruise in the Arctic Ocean.

The noble game had at that period become very wild. Chased successively from the North Pacific, from the Okhotsk, and from the Sea of Kamtschatka, they had finally taken refuge above Behring Strait; and thither the fleet of eager "blubber-hunters" had followed them, like Nelson in pursuit of the French.

The stately old Luminary, with all her royals set, and her trim, handsome boats upon the cranes, had stood gallantly to the northward, braving, with her many expectant consorts, the keen breezes from the pole. The Arctic was to be our Trafalgar, where the fleeing enemy, at last driven to bay, must yield to a general attack.

It should be borne in mind that the right-whale, the species of which we were in pursuit, grows to a much larger size than the sperm. Some which we captured "stowed down" more than two hundred barrels each, and we heard of others of still greater bulk.

They were dangerous old fellows too, although, unlike the sperm-whale, they acted solely on the defensive, and never came at us head on.

After a time there was circulated through the fleet a rumor of a certain great whale that everybody wanted, and nobody could get. Captain Burdick, of the Canova, had seen and ventured upon him.

"He kicked like a mustang," said the Captain; "stove two of my boats, and threw me twenty feet high, so that if I hadn't seen where I was going to fall, and turned myself in the air, I should have come down among all those harpoons and lances and splinters. There's three hundred and fifty barrels under that old black hide if there's a gallon."

But Captain Burdick would lie—he was proverbial for it—and the men said, "Oh, that's only one of Burdick's yarns." He was blown up once in a steamer loaded with carpenters' tools, and told how he dodged the augers that whizzed about his head.

We soon found, however, that Captain Burdick and the Canova were not the only master and ship that had encountered the great whale. Captain Atwell, of the Atlantic, had seen him; Captain Soule, of the South America, had seen him; Captain Robbins, of the Tartar, had seen him; and they all told us that he had more irons in his back than a porcupine had quills.

The boats of the Dolphin had "cut from him," because, after a long run to windward, he "sounded," taking out three lengths of line, and coming near carrying all hands to the bottom.

The Rorqual's boats had met with worse luck than this, for three of them had been knocked into splinters, and several of their men killed and wounded by the sweep of those terrible "flukes." We found the crew of this ship sober enough as they related their experience.

Such accidents are very common among whalemen; but when a number of them are successively caused by the efforts of a single well-known individual, the animal becomes famous throughout the fleet—as if he were a leviathan Bruce, or Tell, or Hereward, gallantly defending the invaded rights of his race.

How many of the big, shy fellows we chased to no purpose! for, as our boats were paddled cautiously upon a school, some one of the wary creatures would turn a small black eye upon us, then put himself leisurely in motion, like a steamboat gliding from a pier-head, increasing his speed as he went, and all the others would depart with him, leaving only the vacant water and their long white wakes behind.

The Canova and the Luminary were much in company, and often we could hear the cheery voice of old Burdick from his quarter-deck.

At length the way of the two ships became much impeded by ice. All about us were floating masses, which in the slant polar sunbeams took on hues of exceeding beauty. Some of these moving islands were very high, and reminded us of immense cathedrals with hundreds of glittering windows; others were low and far-reaching, like treeless plains. But in all the open channels, the spouts of great right-whales went up like crystal fountains. We could see them close at hand, and away off on the horizon. A spectacle so inspiring I had never looked upon before, nor have I since.

Back to the mast went the maintopsail of each ship, and down splashed her four boats. Captain Wayne, of the Luminary, looked nervously in the direction of his old acquaintance Burdick, and called upon us to give way in earnest.

What a chase it was! around points of the ice, through narrow channels, up temporary lagoons, and anon in the broad, open sea.

The game avoided us. Pull as silently as we would, the great leviathans would still glide away at the very moment we seemed about to close with them.

In one of the ice-formed lagoons, round as the "round table" of the famous knights, and perhaps a mile in diameter, there were at least a dozen of the animals, "blowing," "breaching," and "turning flukes." This place we finally entered for a dash at the school.

But it was like entering a corral of bison, where heels and tails are all in the air at once. One of our boats was stove forthwith, and one of Captain Burdick's. The jovial commander himself got fast, but was obliged to cut from his whale to avoid being taken under the ice.

My own place was with our third mate, a young, athletic man, who, although an excellent whaleman, had of late, through no fault of his own, been so unfortunate that Captain Wayne, in an unreasoning fit of temper, had threatened to "break" him, and send him before the mast. But he had the sympathy and respect of his boat's crew, who knew the circumstances.

We all hoped, on Mr. Brewer's account even more than our own, that our boat would this day get a whale.

Bob Rivers, a brawny, powerful fellow, was our boat-steerer. But the boat-steerer has nothing to do with steering until he has struck the whale, when he exchanges places with his superior, and goes from the bow to the stern.

In spite of our hopes, however, it seemed as if we must at last return to the ship without a single laurel from this stirring field. We had only the poor consolation of beholding others as little fortunate as ourselves.

But the moment of triumph was at hand, when all our disappointments were to be well repaid.

We were at the farther side of the lagoon, all the other boats being dispersed here and there, and a whale, which Bob Rivers had thought to strike, was just moving out of our reach, when suddenly, a little off our starboard bow, there rushed to the surface, and shot high above it, a monster much larger than any of the others.

With a loud noise, his great frame fell upon the water, which rolled away from his sides in long wide swells. And then, catching sight of us, he started swiftly off, crossing the head of our boat at a distance which would have seemed hopeless to an ordinary harpooner; yet I felt the quick motion of Bob Rivers as he gathered himself, for the dart.

Once, twice, the boat shook from end to end under his feet; and both his good irons were sped. One missed, but the other reached the mark.

"Hurrah!" cried Mr. Brewer; "you're fast! you're fast!—and clear up to the hitch! It was a noble throw, Bob. I was afraid you couldn't hit him."

Bob and the third mate now changed places, the former taking the steering oar, and the latter, lance in hand, planting himself at the bow. The whale started off with astonishing velocity; and, shipping our oars, we turned with our faces to the bow, alert for the least sign of mishap, and ready with knife or hatchet to sever the line at an instant's notice.

My hat went off my head, but I did not know it. The water boiled higher than the boat's sides; and the harpoon line looked like a rod of iron. Old Bob Rivers clung to his steering oar with both hands, seeming, with all his strength, hardly more than a pigmy in that tremendous commotion.

The other boats were passed in a moment. Captain Wayne looked on with inexpressible interest. Captain Burdick stood up and shouted. We could distinguish only a few words:

"You've got him! you've got him! You'll find half a dozen of my irons in his back. But look out for him—he'll stave you yet."

But he did not stave us. He headed out of the lagoon, and ran for a long distance beyond it. At length he sounded, taking out such a quantity of line that we lost almost all hope of saving him. Then, to our great relief, he began coming up. Up, up, up he came, and we gathered in the slack as he rose.

When he had reached the surface, the boat was hauled quietly to the right position, and Mr. Brewer, standing upon the bow, gave him the lance with a true and powerful stroke.

We then instantly "sterned off," although not until the broad flukes had gone over our heads, fearfully close to us; and the whale at once commenced spouting thick blood—a sign that all was over with him.

The Luminary ran down to us, and the huge prize was towed alongside of her. We found in his back a number of harpoons, one of which, sure enough, was Captain Burdick's; and from this circumstance, together with the fact of his unusual size, there remained no doubt that the animal was the same which had so excited the curiosity of the fleet.

He yielded the very large amount of two hundred and ninety-six barrels.

"Old Burdick," remarked Mr. Brewer—whom this adventure made the lion of the fleet—"wasn't so far out of the way, after all. He came within fifty-four barrelfuls of the truth—didn't he?"

OUR BABY AGAIN.

BY JIMMY BROWN.

After this, don't say anything more to me about babies. There's nothing more spiteful and militious than a baby. Our baby got me into an awful scrape once—the time I blacked it. But I didn't blame it so much that time, because, after all, it was partly my fault; but now it has gone and done one of the meanest things a baby ever did, and came very near ruining me.

It has been a long time since mother and Sue said they would never trust me to take care of the baby again, but the other day they wanted awfully to go to a funeral. It was a funeral of one of their best friends, and there was to be lots of flowers, and they expected to see lots of people, and they said they would try me once more. They were going to be gone about two hours, and I was to take care of the baby till they came home again. Of course I said I would do my best, and so I did; only when a boy does try to do his best, he is sure to get himself into trouble. How many a time and oft have I found this to be true! Ah! this is indeed a hard and hollow world. The last thing Sue said when she went out of the door was, "Now be a good boy if you play any of your tricks I'll let you know." I wish Mr. Travers would marry her, and take her to China. I don't believe in sisters, anyway.

They hadn't been gone ten minutes when the baby woke up and cried, and I knew it did it on purpose. Now I had once read in an old magazine that if you put molasses on a baby's fingers, and give it a feather to play with, it will try to pick that feather off, and amuse itself, and keep quiet for ever so long. I resolved to try it; so I went straight down stairs and brought up the big molasses jug out of the cellar. Then I made a little hole in one of mother's pillows, and pulled out a good handful of feathers. The baby stopped crying as soon as it saw what I was at, and so led me on, just on purpose to get me into trouble.

Well, I put a little molasses on the baby's hands, and put the feathers in its lap, and told it to be good and play real pretty. The baby began to play with the feathers, just as the magazine said it would, so I thought I would let it enjoy itself while I went up to my room to read a little while.

That baby never made a sound for ever so long, and I was thinking how pleased mother and Sue would be to find out a new plan for keeping it quiet. I just let it enjoy itself till about ten minutes before the time when they were to get back from the funeral, and then I went down to mother's room to look after the "little innocent," as Sue calls it. Much innocence there is about that baby!

I never saw such a awful spectacle. The baby had got hold of the molasses jug, which held mornagallon, and had upset it and rolled all over in it. The feathers had stuck to it so close that you couldn't hardly see its face, and its head looked just like a chicken's head. You wouldn't believe how that molasses had spread over the carpet. It seemed as if about half the room was covered with it. And there sat that wretched "little innocent" laughing to think how I'd catch it when the folks came home.

Now wasn't it my duty to wash that baby, and get the feathers and molasses off it? Any sensible person would say that it was. I tried to wash it in the wash-basin, but the feathers kept sticking on again as fast as I got them off. So I took it to the bath-tub and turned the water on, and held the baby right under the stream. The feathers were gradually getting rinsed away, and the molasses was coming off beautifully, when something happened.

The water made a good deal of noise, and I was standing with my back to the bath-room door, so that I did not hear anybody come in. The first thing I knew Sue snatched the baby away, and gave me such a box over the ear. Then she screamed out, "Ma! come here this wicked boy is drowning the baby O you little wretch won't you catch it for this." Mother came running up stairs, and they carried the baby into mother's room to dry it.

You should have heard what they said when Sue slipped and sat down in the middle of the molasses, and cried out that her best dress was ruined, and mother saw what a state the carpet was in! I wouldn't repeat their language for worlds. It was personal, that's what it was, and I've been told fifty times never to make personal remarks. I should not have condescended to notice it if mother hadn't begun to cry; and of course I went and said I was awfully sorry, and that I meant it all for the best, and wouldn't have hurt the baby for anything, and begged her to forgive me and not cry any more.

When father came home they told him all about it. I knew very well they would, and I just lined myself with shingles so as to be good and ready. But he only said, "My son, I have decided to try milder measures with you. I think you are punished enough when you reflect that you have made your mother cry."

That was all, and I tell you I'd rather a hundred times have had him say, "My son, come up stairs with me." And now if you don't admit that nothing could be meaner than the way that baby acted, I shall really be surprised and shocked.

[Begun in Harper's Young People No. 66, February 1.]

PHIL'S FAIRIES.

BY MRS. W. J. HAYS,

Author of "Princess Idleways," etc.

Chapter XIV.

PLANS FOR THE WINTER.

Summer had gone. Visitors had gone. Graham had gone to school. The banks of the lake were red and yellow, brown and purple, with autumnal foliage. Aunt Rachel was superintending the making of preserves. Lisa was at work on the piazza. Phil was sketching.

Slowly up the garden path came old Joe. He took off his hat and stood still a moment waiting for Phil to speak.

"Well, Joe, what is it?" said Phil, hardly looking up, he was so busy.

"This is just as fine as ever the garden of Eden was, but old Adam had to go, you know, Massa Phil." He had lately, of his own accord, put the Massa before Phil's name.

"What are you driving at, Joe?" asked Phil, absently.

"I mean I's a-gwine home, Massa Phil."

"To the city?" said Phil, surprised into attention.

"Yes, back to New York. I wants to go to work."

"Have you not enough to do here?"

"No," said Joe, with a chuckle. "It's all play here—no real hard work sich as I's 'customed to."

"It is time you took it easy, Joe," said Phil.

"True nuff, but I's not one of the easy sort. Besides, who knows, Massa Phil, but there may be other chillen—poor sick chillen—waitin' for to hear my fiddle an' be comforted?"

Phil looked up hastily; a bright look of gratitude and love came into his eyes.

Just then Miss Schuyler appeared, with a glass jar of jelly in her hand; the maid was following with a tray full.

"Joe wants to go to the city, Aunt Rachel," said Phil.

"I dare say," was the ready response. "He wants a little gossip over the kitchen fires, and he wants this nice jar of jelly for his bread and butter when he has company to tea; and as we all are going home next week, he may as well wait for the rest of us."

"Aunt Rachel!" said Phil, in dismay. Going home to the city seemed like going back to poverty, and illness, and the garret room he so well remembered.

Aunt Rachel divined it all. "You belong to me now, Phil. Lisa and I are partners henceforth; and while you and I travel in search of health, study, and improvement, Lisa is going to keep house for us in her own nice quiet way."

"Travel!—where?—when?" said Phil, eagerly.

"The doctors suggest our going abroad—to a warm climate for the winter, where we please; in summer, to the German baths."

"Oh, Aunt Rachel!"

This was enough for Phil to think of and wonder about all the rest of the happy days at the lake. He could walk now with comparative ease, not of course without crutches, and the gold and scarlet glory of the autumn leaves was a perpetual delight to him. He gathered them for wreaths and bouquets, he pressed them, and ironed them, and varnished them, and tried every method suggested to him for keeping them; and when it came packing time it was found necessary to get an extra trunk to contain all the woodland treasures.

The happy summer had ended, and not without a lingering look of regret that it could not last longer was the farewell said to house, and lake, and every pretty graceful tree or plant that adorned them.

They found the city house all in nice order for them, for Aunt Rachel was always wise in her forethought and provision for future comfort.

Phil's little room near her own had been especially attended to, and he found it in all its arrangements as complete and satisfactory as the lovely summer nook he had vacated.

In three weeks' time they were to start for Europe. The days were spent in preparation. Phil must have a steamer chair, plenty of clothes, wraps, and contrivances. All Aunt Rachel's thoughts were for Phil's comfort; but it did not spoil him nor make him selfish; he had the happy faculty of receiving kindness gracefully, as if glad to be the means of making others happy by his gratitude, not as if it were his due in any way. And in his turn he was thoughtful and considerate for others, in trifles light as air, but nevertheless showing by the gentle, tender manner that he meant them as evidences of his affection. He knew Lisa dreaded parting from him, so before her he was quite silent as to his expected pleasures, although his imagination was constantly picturing the details of an ocean voyage. His sketch-book was getting full of yachts and craft of all sorts and sizes—some that would have astonished a sailor very much. Whenever he met Lisa he kissed her, whether with hat on she was hurrying out on some errand for Miss Schuyler, or on her return, with arms full of bundles, she was hastening through the hall.

He was necessarily left much alone, and thus had the chance to draw a charming little picture for Lisa, and frame it with acorns, lichen, and red maple leaves. He hung it in her room one day when she was out, and, to his surprise, the next day it was missing. He had expected some recognition of it, but none coming, he kept still, wondering what Lisa had done with it. The secret came out in due time.

A day or two before their departure, Lisa came to him with tears in her eyes, and a little package in her hand.

"Open it, dear; it is for you."

It was a tiny leather purse, with four dollars in it.

"Lisa, you must not give me all this."

"Yes, it is yours—your own earnings. I sold your little picture, and bought this purse with part of the money, so that you might have something to spend just as you pleased.".

"Oh, Lisa!" was all Phil could say, for though grateful, he was yet disappointed that Lisa had not kept his picture.

"Now, dear," she said, "you can buy some little trifle for Joe, and any one else you want to make a present to."

"Thank you, Lisa; yes, I will. It is a very nice purse," he replied; but as soon as he could find Miss Schuyler, he unburdened his heart. "After all the pains I took with that little picture, Aunt Rachel, to think of Lisa's selling it! Oh, how could she?"

"Hush, dear Phil; Lisa is the most unselfish creature in the world. Has she not given you up to me? And for the pleasure she supposed it would give you to have money of your own earning, she was willing to part with even a thing so precious as a picture painted by you for her. Do not question her motive for a moment. Take the money, and buy her something useful. Come, we will go get a pretty work-basket; she will find it even more to her taste than a picture."

So they went out and bought a light, nicely shaped basket, with little pockets all around it, and Aunt Rachel made it complete with a silver thimble, a strawberry emery cushion, a morocco needle-book, and an ample supply of silk, thread, needles, pins, and buttons.

Lisa was delighted; but Phil could not be satisfied until he had painted another little picture, and made Lisa promise that no one else should ever have it.

Joe was made happy with some new bandana handkerchiefs in brilliant yellows and red, a pipe, some tobacco, and a suit of clothes from Miss Schuyler.

It was a tranquil, lovely day in the fall when the steam-ship sailed with Aunt Rachel and Phil on board. All the bay sparkled in the sunshine, and boats of every shape and size danced upon the blue water. After the bustle and confusion of getting off, the leave-takings, the cries and shouts of sailors, the blowing of whistles and ringing of bells, they sat quietly down to watch the receding shores, and look out upon the glittering water.

"Aunt Rachel," said Phil, "it all seems like another fairy story to me, and we are sailing in a nautilus to the island of Heart's Ease."

"Yes, dear child, so it does. And let us hope that we shall find that beautiful island, and never wish to leave it."

THE END.

ON BOARD THE STEAM-SHIP—GOOD-BY TO NEW YORK.

SPRING CLEANING.—Drawn by W. T. Yeager.

Patermus. "Come, Children, your Mother and I have decided to emigrate. I overheard Mrs. Housekeeper say last night that she had engaged Chinese help, and we have concluded that it is hardly safe for us to stay any longer."

In answer to repeated inquiries, we would again state that there is no charge for printing exchanges or any other matter in the Post-office Box. Whatever is suitable and interesting is printed if space can be made for it. To make that space is a constant and never-ending problem, the solution of which is that hundreds and hundreds of pretty letters never appear at all. They lie week after week on the editor's table, and their turn never comes, for the simple reason that five hundred lines can not be crowded into a column that only holds half—a great deal less than half—of that number.

The editor's heart aches every week over the heaps of letters from the dear little folks who are doomed to disappointment. It is not one bit pleasant to think that the bright little eyes will watch in vain for the carefully written letter which was intended to "surprise mamma," or "please grandpa, who gives me my paper," but there is no help for it. There are so many of you that to let you all speak in print would keep an army of printers busy day and night.

Perhaps if you could peep for a moment at the editor's Post-office Department, you would be comforted to find yourselves in such a crowd of other little folks. There is no big waste-basket, such as you all appear to dread so much, but there are some very big pigeon-holes, and a great many of them; and there you all are, packed snugly away, thousands and thousands of you, talking of your pretty living pets, shedding quiet tears over the "kitties that died," playing with your baby brother or sister, "the dearest pet in the world," or offering unlimited sympathy to Toby Tyler. Here are fifty or sixty boys every one of whom wishes Toby Tyler would come and live with him, "and my mamma will be so good to him, and always give him enough to eat!" There are plenty of homes offered to Mr. Stubbs too, but the poor old monkey does not need them now. We do not believe any monkey was ever honored by such a large circle of mourners. His name has been bestowed upon great numbers of pet dogs and cats, and it will be many years before he will be forgotten.

Now when you feel badly because you can not find your letter or even your name in the Post-office Box, just remember that your pretty message to Young People is not thrown away or neglected, but that it is all safe, and in the company of a whole crowd of little companions from all parts of the world.

Pleasant Grove, New Jersey.

I am nine years old, and I enjoy reading Young People, as we all do, even papa and mamma. When the paper comes, all make a rush for it, to see how poor Toby Tyler is getting along. He attracts as much attention among the big folks as with us children. Mamma says his story teaches us all a good lesson.

All of us are obliged to stay from school now on account of scarlet fever. I feel very sorry, for I love to go to school, and I was trying very hard for a prize. I can not get it now. This is my first attempt at writing a letter.

Laura A. I.

Indianapolis, Indiana.

I am seven years old, and I feel awful sorry for Toby Tyler. If Uncle Daniel won't have Toby, he can come and live with us. My mamma says so. Grandma says we can't have Mr. Stubbs; but she likes to have a good time herself, and I know she will laugh at his tricks when she gets used to him. Toby and Mr. Stubbs can sleep with me, for I have no brother or sister. And Toby can have half of my marbles, and play on my drum, and he shall have all he wants to eat. Tell him to come, and not go back to the circus.

Willie F.

This cordial invitation was written before the sad end of Mr. Stubbs, and the arrival of Toby at his home, and in their name we thank Master Willie for his generous intentions.

The following information in reference to the meaning of the word Toronto has been sent to the Post-office Box by a gentleman in Detroit for the benefit of Henry M. R.:

Toronto is an Indian word (Iroquois, if I remember right), signifying "oak-trees growing up or rising from the lake." This I learned from one of my old school-books when a boy in Canada, nearly fifty years ago.

J. R.

Palo Alto Plantation, Mississippi.

We are little boys of the same age, ten years. We live on a cotton plantation. There are no little boys near on the same side of the river as we are. The farms are large, so we have to go a great distance to see any one. There are two thousand acres in cultivation, and there are miles and miles of woods all around. As soon as we leave our yard we are in the woods. We can go hunting for rabbits, or squirrels, or partridges. We have the largest pecans growing here that I ever saw. They measure two inches round, and are an inch and a half long. We have a plantation of magnolias, walnut-trees, pears, figs, and pomegranates, besides peaches and apples.

We each have a bay colt, which we must get up early in the morning and groom. Our father says we are to know all about a farm. He often sends us three or four miles alone to see how the log heaps are burning, or how the corn or cotton is being planted. He makes us row ourselves over the river in a little boat we have.

We have a governess who wants to make us very elegant, but we do not like to brush our teeth and nails so often, and go to the table in such prime order. But she reads Young People to us, and we would do almost anything to hear the paper read better than we can read it for ourselves.

If any little boy would like to know more about this country, we will write again to Young People, and tell all we know.

Richard and Kennon T.

Owensborough, Kentucky.

I want to tell you how I get Young People. Our teacher takes it for the school, and all that stand perfect in the lessons draw for it. This is jolly. I think it is the best paper in the world.

I live near the great Mammoth Cave, one of the largest caves in the world, and also near the Green River, which is one of the deepest rivers.

I went the other day to see Uncle Tom's Cabin played, and thought it was splendid.

Ruth G.

Bardolph, Illinois.

I am a very little girl. I like Young People very much. I think Jimmy Brown is a very funny boy. My little nephew, named Horace, is so much like him! My sister has to tie him to the bed-post when she goes out-of-doors. Once he broke loose, and when she came back she found him working over her bread, which she had left by the stove to rise. He is only nineteen months old, and sister thinks he will grow up just like Jimmy Brown. I am saving all my Young People for him to read when he gets big.

Lizzie P.

Grandy, Connecticut.

I send the inscription on the inside of the cover of a snuff-box that we have, as I thought the other children might like to read it Here it is:

"Respect me for what I have been. From a sprightly plant I was advanced to the sovereignty of the forest; the birds of the air were happy under my shadow, and afforded me their sweetest notes for my protection. After filling a respectable situation, and living to a good old age, I was cut down, stripped of nature's robes, and became a pillar in the church, where I screened alike the sinner and the saint from the stormy blast; and after a faithful servitude of seven hundred and one years, I have become in every convivial circle a ready token of friendship—part of my remains make a snuff-box; and except when carried away by wicked hands, regularly attend the sanctuary. One thousand eight hundred and twenty-four."

On the outside of the cover is the picture of a church, with the inscription, "Glasgow Cathedral. Founded 1123."

William S.

Port Huron, Michigan.

I am six years old, and mamma is going to write just every word I say to Young People. We have "tooken" it ever since it began. Georgie likes "Biddy O'Dolan" and "Toby Tyler" the best. I do like "Phil's Fairies," because he is a poor little sick boy.

I have a little sister Prill. She is 'most three years old. She tries to say, "Twinkle, twinkle, little star," and runs to the window, and tries to see the stars. We love her a thousand million dollars.

I have two dollies. Winnie was a year old when I was six, and Mabel came that day. I named Winnie my own self for the dollie in "Trouble in the Play-Room," in Young People, and Mabel after "rosy-cheeked Mabel" in "Wingy Wing Foo," which I can recite.

Georgie and I went with papa to grandpa's when he was sixty years old. We had to go a hundred miles. At the depôt a man asked me where I was going, and I said, "To grandpa's birthday party; he is sixty years old this afternoon," and all the people laughed.

We live on the St. Clair River, and can see all the boats that go to Lake Superior and Chicago. The Indians live across the river. We can see their log-houses. They come across in boats, and sell baskets. Sometimes their papooses are tied on their backs. I can write my own name.

Ethel A. V.

I am four years old. Ethel is my sister.

We had a bran pudding Christmas morning, after we had our oatmeal. We liked it.

Bill and Kit are my horses. They are wooden.

George B. V.

Rockaway, New Jersey.

I hope the little boys and girls who read this letter will not laugh when I tell them I am going to write about cats. My dear old Sheppie dog was poisoned, so I can't write about him, and our kittie is not just a common kind of a cat, for she has seven toes on each of her fore-paws, and she can catch more rats and mice than any other three cats I ever saw. She came in the other day with an awfully big rat, and when I went to pat her a little, the rat bit me. She is striped just like a tiger.

Mamma told us such a funny story about a kittie she had when she was a little girl. One day she went up an apple-tree near the house after some dear little birds. Mamma ran after her, but was too late to save even one little bird. She was so provoked with her kittie that she ran up stairs, and tore a big piece out of a dress, and made a bag. Then she put poor kittie in it, with a big stone for a pillow, and ran as fast as she could to a big pond over past the corn field, and threw poor kittie in. When mamma got back to the house, the first thing she saw was that same little kittie sitting beside the door, washing herself off, and looking so sorry and pitiful that mamma took her in her arms, and dried her with her apron. Then she carried her into the house, and put her in the oven to get warm. She thought she would not let grandpa and grandma know about it, for fear they would laugh at her, but the colored driver was there, and saw it all, and he told them when they came home. They laugh at mamma about it yet.

I think Young People is just the nicest, jolliest paper in all the world.

We are making up a boxful of things to send to the poor little boys and girls at the Howard Mission, in New York.

Frank J. T.

Golden, Colorado.

I live in the far West. It is a very nice place. Our schools are just splendid. They are graded, and we have the best of teachers.

Sometimes the Ute Indians come here. They are awful dirty and lazy, and very mean. They steal and beg all the time, and we are glad to see them go away. Once in a while we have a visit from gypsies. I am twelve years old.

Tillie K.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

I must tell you about a funny mistake I made the other day at the breakfast table. I was talking about Toby Tyler calling his monkey Mr. Stubbs because he looked like a man he knew by that name, and I said I did not think the man would feel very much complicated. Papa and mamma and my two big brothers all laughed very much. At first I did not know why, and was feeling very uncomfortable, when mamma explained to me that I should have said complimented, and told me the difference in the meaning of the words. Then I laughed as much as any of them. I am eight years old.

Jack M.

I wish to inform my correspondents that I have received so many applications for my minerals and other curiosities that they are all gone. I will try to get some more, but I will now exchange stamps with those correspondents who are not willing to wait. I would like some South American postage stamps (no duplicates).

W. A. Courtright,
P. O. Box 151, Palmyra, Marion Co., Mo.

Marshall, Michigan.

My supply of stamps is exhausted, and I can not exchange any more. I will return the stamps I have received for which I can give no exchange.

Jessie R. Bentley.

I do not wish any more exchanges of soil. I will now exchange Florida moss, for postage stamps.

Harry Laurimore,
Lock Box 6, Greenville, Darke Co., Ohio.

Johnny P. Crozier, of Carlyle, Kansas, who offered exchange in Young People No. 75, is in trouble. He has no more Indian arrow-heads nor rattlesnake rattles, and packages of curiosities are still reaching him by every mail. He begs correspondents to send him nothing more, for he will be compelled to return all these things, or wait until a new crop of rattlesnakes comes in.

It would always be well if those wishing to exchange would write before sending a package, in order to find out if the exchange can be made.

The following exchanges are offered by correspondents:

Minerals and stamps, for Indian arrow-heads, stamps, or minerals.

James S. Beaumont,
P. O. Box F, Penn Yan, Yates Co., N. Y.

Prince Edward Island stamps and some others of foreign countries, for rare stamps. Mexican especially desired.

Thomas Barr,
Care of Rev. George Hodgson,
Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island.

Two German, one French, and one English stamp, for four other foreign stamps.

Edith B. Belknap,
Care of E. Belknap, Yonkers, N. Y.

Foreign stamps, for curiosities.

Bertha A. Brumagim, Summerdale, N. Y.

One twenty-five cent internal revenue stamp, for a Chinese stamp.

Clarence D. Chipman,
Kankakee, Kankakee Co., Ill.

Postage and revenue stamps and postmarks. Postmarks from the Eastern States especially desired.

J. C., P. O. Box 3, Aurora, Kane Co., Ill.

East Indian, Japanese, French, Canadian, German, and United States stamps, for other foreign and United States stamps. Those from Central and South America especially desired.

Arthur Coleman,
11 Wendell Street, Cambridge, Mass.

Rare foreign stamps, for stamps from Turkey, Egypt, Straits Settlements, or for other stamps of value.

R. K. Forsyth,
224 Ridge Avenue, Alleghany City, Penn.

Stamps and postmarks, for stamps or any curiosity, except minerals and postmarks.

John Faglon,
25 Columbia Street, Brooklyn, N. Y.

Postmarks, for good specimens of insects, especially a death's-head moth.

W. C. Foster,
375 Quincy Street, Brooklyn, N. Y.

Copper or iron ore, for curiosities.

Amelia Frink, Marshall, Calhoun Co., Mich.

Thirty-five postmarks (no duplicates), for a cent of any date earlier than 1840. Or forty postmarks for a half-cent of any date earlier than 1857.

Roland Godfrey,
Center P. O., Gardner, Worcester Co., Mass.

One hundred foreign stamps (no duplicates), for an Indian bow and arrow; or seventy-five foreign stamps (no duplicates), for a tomahawk or pipe. Will also exchange foreign stamps on most liberal terms for Indian or other good curiosities.

Correspondents will please write and state what they have for exchange before sending.

Fred P. Hall,
238 Warren Street, Jersey City, N. J.

Foreign postage stamps.

G. Greene,
810 Grand Street, Jersey City Heights, N. J.

Foreign stamps. Those from Iceland, Asia, South America, or Cape of Good Hope desired in exchange.

Haywood Gedney,
Mamaroneck, Westchester Co., N. Y.

Fifteen revenue stamps (no duplicates), for every set of six different kinds of woods from any State except Massachusetts. Or Massachusetts woods, for the same from other States. Specimens must be two inches long, and labelled. Also sea-shells from the Atlantic coast, for Indian relics.

B. M. and M. N. H.,
Hull Street, Newtonville, Middlesex Co., Mass.

Soil from Iowa, for soil from Switzerland.

Fred Huntoon, Stuart, Iowa.

Twenty-five stamps and fifteen postmarks, for the set of Egyptian stamps of 1865, containing seven stamps.

Fred Houston,
9 West Nineteenth Street, New York City.

Easels, picture-frames, small brackets, match safes, or autumn leaves, for sea-shells, ocean curiosities, minerals, or anything suitable for a museum. Correspondents will please state which article they prefer in exchange.

Alice C. Hammond,
Milton, Chittenden Co., Vt.

Indian arrow-heads, for any ocean curiosities except a sea-urchin and a horseshoe crab. Correspondents will please pack specimens carefully, that they may not get broken.

Isobel L. Jacob,
Darlington Heights, Prince Edward Co., Va.

Stamps from the United States of Colombia, Germany, France, Great Britain, and some other foreign countries, for other foreign or United States Department stamps.

William B. Jackson,
145 London Street, East Boston, Mass.

Twenty-five foreign stamps, or a good-sized piece of petrified moss, for five South American stamps.

H. L. J.,
Lock Box 721, Granville, Licking Co., Ohio.

Twenty-five United States postmarks, for eight foreign postmarks or stamps.

Willie Johnson,
Reynoldsburg, Franklin Co., Ohio.

Twenty foreign stamps, for an eight-cent Canada register stamp and a three-cornered Cape of Good Hope.

Herbert Johnston,
4065 Aspen Street (Room G),
West Philadelphia, Penn.

Stamps, autographs of renowned men, coins, pieces of silk, and postmarks, for shells.

P. O. Box 1221, Plainfield, Union Co., N. J.

Foreign postage stamps, for other stamps.

Harry Wilson, Rutherford, N. J.

Southern birds' feathers, crystallized salt, or iron, for forest and ocean curiosities, scraps of silk, moss, pressed flowers, or other pretty things.

Hattie Winchester,
327 Hudson Avenue, Albany, N. Y.

Stamps, coins, minerals, and postmarks, for rare foreign postage, or United States Department stamps.

Sidney New,
181 East Ninety-fifth Street, New York City.

Fifty-five postmarks, for twenty-four United States old issues, or department stamps, or foreign stamps.

Daisy Norton, 56 Henry Street, Detroit, Mich.

[For other exchanges, see third page of cover.]

S. and F.—You can buy pongee, Surah, or some other kind of soft cream-colored or dull yellow silk, at almost any large dry-goods store in New York city. You can vary the color of the background and the outline of the flowers according to your taste, but it is prettier always to outline the steins and leaves with green. If you put your work in a frame, you will find it difficult to do the darning stitch of the background.

R. A. E., and Harry Q.—We shall be glad to receive an occasional letter from you describing any interesting experience you may have during your contemplated excursions. Letters from all boys and girls who, during their summer vacation, see anything new and worth writing about, will also be welcome. Write your communications on one side of the paper only, and try to tell only those things which are of interest to other boys and girls.

H. H.—You can make very good molasses candy by boiling together half a pound of brown sugar and one quart of molasses. Drop a little in a cup of cold water, and if it hardens, it is ready for cooling. When it is sufficiently boiled, put in a small piece of butter and a little essence of wintergreen. Cool in a flat, buttered pan. If you wish to make it white, flour your hands and pull it as soon as it is cool enough to handle. Then make it into small twisted sticks.

Correct answers to puzzles have been received from Maude P. A., Ray B., Annie Brayton, Gertrude Ball, Archie and Hugh Burns, Maude M. Chambers, Amelia Frink, David Griggs, Willie E. Green, Rachel Haviland, Alice C. Hammond, William Hadley, Grace R. Holden, Laura A. Ivins, Jennie E. Jaquer, Jenny Kempton, H. Keppel, E. K. Knapp, Henry King, "Lode Star," "Lansing, Iowa," Bessie H. Moore, Percy McDermott, Augusta Lou Parke, "Pepper," C. A. Quin, M. May Robinson, A. E. S., "Stars and Stripes," "Sir Finley," "Starry Flag," Adda Thomson, W. I. Trotter, George Volckhausen, Nelse Walton, Willie F. Woolard.

PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

ENIGMA.

In pike, not in fish.
In stove, not in dish.
In yard, not in mile.
In chisel, not in file.
In poem, not in rhyme.
In clock, not in time.
In kite, not in owl.
My whole a handsome fowl.

C. R. B.

No. 2.

EASY CHARADES.

1. My first is a volume. My second is a reptile. My whole is a student.

Ed.

2. My first is to study. My second is a banner. My third is daily food. My whole is a great fire.

Lyman.

No. 3.

FOUR EASY SQUARES.

1.—1. A bundle. 2. A sea in Asia. 3. An animal. 4. A river in Europe.

Maude.

2.—1. A boy's name. 2. Proportion. 3. A famous mountain. 4. Costly.

Frank.

3.—1. A tropical tree. 2. At a distance. 3. Latest. 4. A fable.

4.—1. A boy's name. 2. Not handsome. 3. Sullen. 4. A song of praise.

G. A. K.

No. 4.

ENIGMA.

In dog, but not in cat.
In fly, but not in bat.
In man, but not in boy.
In weapon, not in toy.
In meat, but not in bone.
In white, but not in roan.
In sleet, but not in rain.
In dye, but not in stain.
My whole is stronger than a chain.

C. W.

No. 5.

NUMERICAL CHARADES.

1. I am a pretty proverb composed of 27 letters.
My 12, 7, 4, 16, 25, 11 is a small fish.
My 10, 19, 14, 5, 20 is never late.
My 13, 15, 6, 23, 16 is an animal.
My 26, 10, 21, 8, 3, 18 is to improve.
My 1, 27, 2 is a poisonous reptile.
My 17, 22, 8, 24, 9, 23, 3, 18 is a curious insect.

Goody Two-Shoes.

2 (To Oliver Twist). I am composed of 8 letters, and am a character familiar to the readers of Young People.
My 4, 5, 7, 8 are found in every kitchen.
My 6, 5, 2, 3, 4 is to break open.
My 1, 2 is an abbreviation.

Nelse Walton.

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 76.

No. 1.

Giraffe.

No. 2.

R | A | I | N | | | L | E | A | D
A | N | N | E | | | E | L | L | A
I | N | C | A | | | A | L | U | M
N | E | A | R | | | D | A | M | P

No. 3.

1. Scandinavia. 2. Toby Tyler. 3. Mammoth Cave.

No. 4.

| | I | | | | | C
| | N | | | | | H
T | R | A | M | O | N | T | A | N | E
| | U | | | | | L
| | G | | | | | Y
| | U | | | | | B
| | R | | | | | E
F | L | A | G | E | L | L | A | T | E
| | T | | | | | T
| | E | | | | | E

No. 5.

Diana, Venus, Vesta.

Charade, on page 384—Island.

WIGGLES.

As some of our new subscribers do not understand what "Wiggles" are, we will repeat our explanation. The drawing marked New Wiggle, No. 19, on page 432, forms a portion of the outline of a picture. The endeavor of a wiggle contributor is to furnish a sketch which will resemble our artist's idea.

TWO NEW SERIALS.

Two Serial Stories will begin in the next Number of Harper's Young People, entitled respectively

THE CRUISE OF THE "GHOST,"

By W. L. ALDEN,

Author of "The Moral Pirates,"

and

SUSIE KINGMAN'S DECISION;

OR, THE STORY OF A MAY PARTY,

By KATE R. McDOWELL.

Two New Serials, "The Cruise of the Ghost" and "Susie Kingman's Decision," are commenced in No. 80 of Harper's Young People, issued May 10. The former is by W. L. Alden, author of "The Moral Pirates," and relates the cruise of four boys in a small yacht along the south shore of Long Island. During a dense fog they drift out to sea, and meet with many adventures. The youthful reader will find the story intensely interesting as well as instructive. The illustrations are drawn by W. A. Rogers and J. O. Davidson.

"Susie Kingman's Decision" is the story of a May Party, written for girls by Kate R. McDowell, and is fresh, breezy, and full of interest. It is illustrated by Mrs. Jessie Curtis Shepherd.

NOTICE.

The publishers will furnish Harper's Magazine, beginning with the June Number (which is the commencement of Volume LXIII.), and Harper's Young People, beginning with Number 80, published May 10, 1881 (containing the first installments of the new serials)—the two periodicals together for one year—on receipt of FIVE DOLLARS.

HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE.

Single Copies, 4 cents; One Subscription, one year, $1.50; Five Subscriptions, one year, $7.00—payable in advance, postage free.

The Volumes of Harper's Young People commence with the first Number in November of each year.

Subscriptions may begin with any Number. When no time is specified, it will be understood that the subscriber desires to commence with the Number issued after the receipt of the order.

Remittances should be made by Post-Office Money-Order or Draft, to avoid risk of loss.

HARPER & BROTHERS,
Franklin Square, N. Y.

SOME DRAWINGS OF WIGGLE No. 18, OUR ARTIST'S IDEA, AND NEW WIGGLE, No. 19.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, MAY 3, 1881 ***

Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG™ LICENSE

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg License available with this file or online at www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project Gutenberg electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg electronic works even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project Gutenberg electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the United States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg mission of promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg name associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country other than the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg License must appear prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg work (any work on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg™ License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg electronic work is derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project Gutenberg License for all works posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg work in a format other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version posted on the official Project Gutenberg website (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg works unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to or distributing Project Gutenberg electronic works provided that:

- • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the use of Project Gutenberg works calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”

- • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works.

- • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work.

- • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg work, and (c) any Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg

Project Gutenberg is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg’s goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg collection will remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for Project Gutenberg and future generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.

The Foundation’s business office is located at 41 Watchung Plaza #516, Montclair NJ 07042, USA, +1 (862) 621-9288. Email contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate.

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate.

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg electronic works

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

Most people start at our website which has the main PG search facility: www.gutenberg.org.

This website includes information about Project Gutenberg, including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.

Table of Contents

- A May-Day Story for Girls BY KATE UPSON CLARK.

- BITS OF ADVICE.

- HOW TO BEHAVE AT THE TABLE. BY AUNT MARJORIE PRECEPT.

- IN THE DEEP BLUE SEA.

- BOUND FOR AMERICA.

- BEATING THE PARISH BOUNDS.

- A WILD OCEAN RIDE.

- OUR BABY AGAIN.

- [Begun in Harper's Young People No. 66, February 1.]

- PHIL'S FAIRIES.

- THE END.

- PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS. No. 1. ENIGMA.

- No. 2. EASY CHARADES.

- No. 3. FOUR EASY SQUARES.

- No. 4. ENIGMA.

- No. 5. NUMERICAL CHARADES.

- ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 76. No. 1.

- No. 2.

- No. 3.

- No. 4.

- No. 5.

- WIGGLES.

- TWO NEW SERIALS.

- NOTICE.

- HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE.

- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG™ LICENSE