    Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, February 9, 1897, by Various

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    Title: Harper's Round Table, February 9, 1897

    Author: Various

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    Language: English

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    *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S ROUND TABLE ***

    Produced by Annie R. McGuire

A WILD DAY IN '48.
MILADY'S CAST-OFFS.
GORGONZOLA, THE AUTHOR.
THE MIDDLETON BOWL.
A LOYAL TRAITOR.
CAPTAIN LEARY'S SAMOAN EXPERIENCE.
WOOD-CARVING.
INTERSCHOLASTIC SPORT.
QUESTIONS FOR YOUNG MEN.
STAMPS.
THE CAMERA CLUB.

[Pg 353]

Copyright, 1897, by Harper & Brothers. All Rights Reserved.

published weekly. | NEW YORK, TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 1897. | five cents a copy.
vol. xviii.—no. 902. |  | two dollars a year.

## A WILD DAY IN '48.

### BY WILLIAM BLACK.

There was a vague apprehension in the air; every one appeared conscious that something was about to happen, though no one seemed to know precisely what; and so, as childhood is naturally curious, the writer of these lines, being then of the age of seven, managed to escape from the house unobserved, out into the great murmuring town. Half-frightened glances turned towards the east were a kind of guidance; and in that direction he accordingly wandered, until he came in sight of a crowd—not a beautiful, richly colored, processional crowd such as might have gone through the streets of Florence in mediæval times, with boy choristers chanting, and maidens carrying palms, but a black and grimy and amorphous assemblage of men, silent, in deadly earnest, who at the moment were engaged in tearing down the tall iron railing surrounding Glasgow Green, in order to secure weapons for themselves. And this small person of seven thought that he too must be up and doing. The others were wresting these enormous bars from their soldered sockets; why should not he also be furnished with an implement of destruction? And so he tugged and pulled and struggled; and yet the iron bar, about thrice as high as himself, remained obdurate; and again and again he pulled, and dragged, and vainly shook; in the midst of which determined endeavors a hand was swiftly laid on his arm, and a young Highland lass (her eyes jumping out of her head with terror), who had been wildly running and searching all over the neighborhood, dragged away the young rebel from the now marshalling crowd. Perhaps the alarm in her face impressed him; at all events he meekly yielded. That was not the usual expression of her face—when she was telling marvellous tales of children being carried away by eagles and brought up in a nest on a crag; the heroine of these various adventures, I remember, was called Angel; and whatever else[Pg 354] happened to her, in the end her constancy, and virtue, and beauty were invariably rewarded by a happy marriage.

But now the surging mass of rioters came along, each man of them with one of those long spikes over his shoulder; and the trembling Highland lass, still clinging tightly to her charge, shrank hiding into an archway, and tried to conceal the child with her substantial skirts, till the man-eating ogres should go by. "Willst du nicht aufstehn, Wilhelm, zu schauen die Prozession?" some one might have asked—but not this Highland girl, who was doubtless thinking (in Gaelic) that the people who dwelt in cities were capable of dreadful things. Well, when one did peep out, there was not much to see—at least, nothing picturesque to attract the wondering eyes of childhood: there were no flags, no Mænads with flowing hair; nor was there any gesticulation, nor any attempt at oratory; only this great dark multitude moving on into the city, with two or three leaders marching in front, these ominously glancing from right to left, as if to judge where the sacking should begin. For they had come to sack a city, had these men. There was a talk at the time of bread riots; and no doubt there was a great deal of distress prevailing, as there generally is; and presumably there was a considerable proportion of these demonstrators honestly protesting against a social system that did not provide them with work. But it was not loaves the instigators of this movement were after, as events showed; rather it was silver teapots, and diamond brooches, and silk umbrellas—in short, a general partitioning of property; and of course there were plenty of vagabonds and ne'er-do-weels only too ready to fall in with that entrancing idea.

By what secret and devious ways the Highland lass managed to get herself and her captive back to our home in the Trongate—the historic Trongate of the ancient city of Glasgow—I cannot now say; but she must have been clever and smart about it; for when one at length reached the eagerly thronged windows, it was found that the fun in the thoroughfare below was only beginning. The whole thing looked strange. Musgrave the gunsmith (his sign was two gold guns crossed) was the first to put up his shutters. Perhaps the police had warned him that the rioters would make straight for his premises, to seize arms and ammunition, though, to be sure, there was not a policeman anywhere visible. No; what was visible was a great, swarming, tumultuous assemblage of men and lads who, at a signal from their leaders, had become stationary in front of a silversmith's shop. The silversmith, like the rest of his neighbors, had hurriedly shut and locked up his shop on hearing of the approach of the mob; but that did not avail him much. Another signal was given. Volunteers rushed forward, and proceeded with their long iron pikes to batter in the panels of the door. Then a hole was made. Then one man stooped and crawled in and opened the door from the inside. The curious thing was that the crowd did not now rush into the shop. Perhaps some instinct told them that they would instantly block up the place, and would thus escheat themselves of the spoils of victory. There was a cheer, doubtless, when the panel was hammered in—a long, hoarse, raucous cheer; but the mass held back; only the leaders entered; and for a few moments there was a dumb expectancy.

What now followed was one of the most singular scenes that any small boy of seven ever set eyes upon. From the wide-opened door flashing white things came flying out; high above the heads of the crowd they came; but as they descended a forest of straining arms and hands received them; and there was cheer after cheer as the plunder went on. It did not matter what it was: silver fish-knives, coffee-pots, biscuit-boxes, cruet-stands, opera-glasses—out they came flying to fall into this or that one's clutch; and again and again the hoarse roar of exultation went up, even from those who could not get near enough to share. These people with the upstretched arms appeared to have no fear whatever of getting their heads cut open by an electro-plated salver, a drawing-room lamp, or a brass candlestick. Out the missiles came; and the covetous fingers grabbed here and there; and the fierce tumult of applause ebbed and flowed. Where were the police? Well, there did not seem to be any police. It is true, a number of special constables had been hastily sworn in (my eldest brother was one of them, and according to his own account performed prodigies of valor); but they could not be everywhere; and meanwhile the poor silversmith's goods were being catapulted out to those clamorous upstretched hands.

Of a sudden a new feature appeared in this changing panorama. Ten or a dozen men (I think they wore some sash or badge of office, but I am not positive on this point) who seemed to have dropped from the clouds were jamming their way through the dense multitude; and when at length they had reached the pavement in front of the silversmith's shop, they began to lay about them lustily with their staves, each blow falling vertically on several heads at once. In Egypt I have seen an old Arab sheik do precisely the same thing, when his young men had become unruly. And in neither case was there the slightest resistance to constituted authority. This great mass of people could have turned upon the handful of special constables and rent them in pieces; but they did not; they tried in a kind of way to move on, though by this time all the central thoroughfares of the city were blocked, and a man who has a cruet-stand or a silver dish-cover concealed under his coat cannot glide easily between his neighbors. Whether the constables succeeded in arresting any of the ringleaders at this particular spot, I cannot recollect; but all the afternoon came wilder and wilder stories of chases, and captures, and seizures of booty. My brother was personally conducting a party of five of the rioters to the police-station, through a very bad neighborhood, when they turned on him, tripped him, and threw him down. But he was up again in a moment, with the cursory declaration that if any one of them advanced a step towards him, or attempted to escape either, he would forthwith split his, the thief's, skull in two. And what is more, he would have done it; for he was a powerful man; and he had a drawn truncheon; and he was never at any time a slave to punctilio. I forget the number of gold and silver watches found in the possession of these rascals.

But now the great event of the day, to the imagination of childhood, at all events, was approaching; for the bruit was gone abroad that the cavalry had been ordered in from their suburban barracks to ride through the streets and disperse the mob, and put an end to any lingering lawlessness. Plundering in the main thoroughfares had by this time mostly ceased; for the chief ringleaders had been arrested and haled off to the police-stations; while the worst of their followers roamed about in a surreptitious way, seeking what they could devour, rather than daring openly to attack the shuttered shops. The central parts of the city still remained congested, notwithstanding the reading of the Riot Act; for many simple country folk had wandered in, perhaps out of curiosity, perhaps anxious about their relatives; and of course they could not well get about, because of the crush. Altogether they formed a restless, half-frightened, elbowing, and struggling crowd; but it was a sombre crowd—especially as the dusk of the afternoon drew on to twilight; so that the delight of one small spectator may be imagined when there appeared in the distance a fringe of color—a splendor of uniforms—the glint of helmet and drawn sabre—the prancing of horses. And now began a wild hurry-and-scurry, the people surging against themselves in their frantic efforts to get free, a chaos and confusion impossible to describe. On came the dragoons, pressing against this nebulous mass of humanity, sparing the women as well as they could, but riding down the men—especially where any disposition was shown to form defiant groups—and striking right and left with the back of their swords. It was all very picturesque and splendid—to one youthful onlooker—here in the gathering gloom: the flash of brass and steel, the clink-clank of bridle and scabbard, the fleeing of fugitives, the pawing and rearing of reined-in chargers where a group of terrified women found themselves incapable of retreat. Why, it was better than the fight with Apollyon in the Pilgrim's Progress; for that was only a picture, in flaming red and yellow colors; whereas this was full of movement and change; and a certain[Pg 355] dim fascination of fear. And so the dark came down; and the gases in the house were lit; but out there the dragoons were still riding hither and thither through the night, pursuing and dispersing, with a rattle of horses' hoofs on the stony street.

What happened next was remarkable enough. The fact is, you cannot at a moment's notice drive a welded crowd out of a long and narrow thoroughfare. It is not to be done; and in this case it was not done; for the people, seeing their neighbors here and there knocked over by the horses or slapped on the shoulder by those gleaming blades, forthwith fled pell-mell into the adjacent "closes," lanes, archways, and common stair-cases, which were very speedily choked up. To all outward seeming, the pavements and the causeway, now dimly visible under the yellow light of the street lamps, had been swept clear; but none the less the Trongate held all these innumerable huddled and hiding groups of frightened folk, as we were soon to know. For, through some accident or another, the outer door of our house chanced to be opened for a second, and instantly there burst into the lobby and into the rooms a whole number of women, panting, shaking, haggard-eyed, and speechless.

They made no apology for taking possession of a stranger's dwelling, the simple reason being that in their agony of alarm they were incapable of uttering a word; they did not know what they were doing or where they were; they were entirely bereft of their senses. A friend of mine who was through a long war (I do not mention his nationality, for fear of wounding patriotic sensitiveness) told me that on one occasion, after an unexpected reverse, the regiment in which he served was seized by a perfectly ungovernable panic; there was no withstanding the infection of this madness; the whole lot of them, himself included, took to their heels, and ran, and ran, and ran, hour after hour, until they flung themselves exhausted on the floor of any barn or shanty that chanced to be on their way; and then there was never more than ten minutes' sleep to be snatched, for one or other of them was sure to spring up with the cry, "They're coming!" and off they would set again, in hysterical and insensate flight. It would seem as if a regiment had a nervous system just as a human being has, and that either may find it fail at a critical moment, until reason reasserts itself. I remember regarding with the greatest curiosity these unaccountable visitors who had invaded our home. Decent-looking, respectably-dressed women they were, who obviously had had no more to do with the riot than the man in the moon; most likely they had never heard of such a thing as a Riot Act; but here they were imprisoned, their voice and wits alike gone from them, and no means possible to them of communicating with their friends. Not any one of them appeared to know any other of them. Some stood in the middle of the dining-room, seemingly unable to move another step, pale, trembling, distraught; one or two had sunk helplessly into chairs; one or two were looking out from the windows at the terrors from which they had just escaped, their scared eyes following the clanking up and down of the dragoons, the charging of the horses, the escape of this or that guilty-conscienced runaway along the dark and gas-lit street. And what was to be done with these paralyzed and speechless guests, when once they had partially come to themselves? Among the elder members of the family I gathered there was some talk of our being able to pass them through the lines of the soldiery when our special constable should return; but no one knew at what hour his multifarious duties might be over. Well, that is all I can relate of this peculiar situation of affairs, for now I was taken off to bed; and at what hour, and under what escort these tremulous fugitives were conveyed past the lines of military occupancy I cannot determine. Altogether it was a wild and memorable day, and many and wild and wonderful were the tales thereafter told of it; so that, for the time being, in the case of one small listener, his old friends the Giants Pope and Pagan, Robinson Crusoe and Friday, and even the eagle-captured children of the far West Highlands were quite put into the shade.

## MILADY'S CAST-OFFS.

I found a garment yesterday
A-lying on the hills;
'Twas rare with radiant coloring
And rich with gleaming frills:
A skirt of crinkled golden-rod
And purple-aster sleeves,
A belt of burning cardinals,
A mantle of brown leaves,
And a bodice of the laces
That the dandelion weaves.
A bonnet trimmed with thistle-blooms
Was lying not far off,
And sandals made of birchen bark
Were satin—brown and buff;
And dainty, dainty mittens
Were lying here and there,
Grown by the loving sumach-tree
For hands both small and fair,
With other witching trinkets that
A woodsy nymph might wear.
I touched the garments tenderly
As they were lying there,
And longed to see the maiden who
Such finery did wear;
So roaming through the woodland dale,
And searching every nook,
I paused at last to listen
To the prattle of the brook,
And all the pretty tale he knew
Just like a little book:
These were the gorgeous autumn robes
Of Nature not long since,
But now she'll dress in gems and white,
For she's to wed a prince—
The wondrous, jolly Winter Prince,
Fast coming from the north,
His heralds speeding on the wind,
Their trumpets shouting mirth;
And soon a snow-white wedding-feast
Will spread all o'er the earth.
Sarah Stirling McEnery.

## GORGONZOLA, THE AUTHOR.

### BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS.

It was upon the occasion of my second visit to Schnitzelhammerstein on the Zugvitz that my friend Hans Pumpernickel, who, as some of you may remember, is the Mayor of the queer old city, let me into the secret of poor old Gorgonzola's embarrassing situation. We were taking one of our usual summer-evening walks on the banks of the Zugvitz, and on our way back to Hans's residence we passed a gloomy-looking old house on the right-hand side of the Hochstrasse, near the public gardens. With the exception of a dim light which struggled through a window on the top floor, the mansion was in utter darkness, and was, in fact, in such strong contrast to the general air of cheerfulness which is one of the strongest attributes of this broad avenue that I remarked it.

[Pg 356]

"Dear me!" I cried, as I stood before it. "What a place of gloom! It reminds me of a small black cloud on an otherwise perfect sky. Who lives there?"

"It is the home of poor old Gorgonzola, the author," said Hans, shaking his head sadly. "The light you see is from his study—his den. It is there that he is at work."

I did not like to confess my ignorance by telling Hans that I had never heard of Gorgonzola, the author. For all I knew, Gorgonzola, the author, might be one of the features of the town, and so, wishing neither to betray my ignorance nor to offend my kindly host, I said:

"Oh! Really? How interesting!"

At this remark Hans threw his head back and laughed. "Is it so?" he said. "Indeed, now, how interesting do you find it?"

"Well," I replied, after some hesitation, "we have a word in our language which expresses it. 'Quite' is the word. I find it quite interesting, though, to tell you the truth, my dear Mr. Mayor, I never heard of Herr Gorgonzola before. In our country almost every town of importance has an author of which it is proud, and it was only my desire to be tactful that kept me from asking, when you mentioned Gorgonzola, who on earth he was. The fact that I never heard of him does not prove that he is not a great man. What has he written?"

"Nothing—practically nothing. He hasn't even written a poem for the Schnitzelhammerstein Blaetter."

"Then why do you call him an author?" I asked.

"Because," Hans replied, naïvely, "every man has to do something, and poor old Gorgonzola is nothing else. Besides, he called himself that."

There was a pause. I was more or less baffled to know what to say, and in accordance with the old German maxim, "When you nothing have to say already, do not say it yet," I deemed it well to keep silent. Fortunately, before the silence that followed became too deep, Pumpernickel himself put in with,

"He did not want to call himself an author, but he had to. You know we have a Directory here in our city—a great, thick, heavy book—"

"Which he wrote?" I suggested, desiring to say something, for I had in mind that other old proverb, "He who says nothing, has nothing to say; and having nothing to say, therefore thinks nothing in his brains."

"Not at all, not at all," cried Hans, impatiently. "He merely let them use his name in it for completeness' sake. You see, it was this way," the Mayor continued. "When Bingenburg and Rheinfels went to our Board of Trade and said let us get up the Directory of this city, the Board of Trade said: 'Donner and Blitzen! not unless you make it complete. The last Directory was full of addresses that no one wished to know, and had none that would help a stranger to our town.'

"'We will make it complete,' said Bingenburg and Rheinfels. 'There shall be no living soul in Schnitzelhammerstein on the Zugvitz whose name and occupation and domicile shall not be down in full.'

"'Then,' said the Board of Trade, 'you may make the Directory, but if we find one name left out, or without an occupation and an address, then will we not only not endorse your Directory, but we will say it is bad, and advise the citizens of this town not to go to those addresses which you print.'

"'We will do our best,' said Bingenburg and Rheinfels.

"'That's good,' replied the Board of Trade. 'Go ahead. What we have feared from experience is that you would do your worst.'

"And so," continued Hans Pumpernickel to me, "these persons were commissioned to prepare a Directory for Schnitzelhammerstein on the Zugvitz. They went ahead and got most everybody. In their original manuscript, submitted to the Board of Trade, they had entries like this: 'Hans Blumenthal, baby, Altgeldstrasse, 19 bis.' They had 'Gretchen Frorumelstine, doll-fancier, 4612 Funf Avenue'—in fact, they had every single human being in town, by name and by occupation, however trivial, mentioned.

"Now, of course, to do this they had to see everybody, and among others they saw poor old Gorgonzola, and he willingly gave them his address and his name.

"'But your occupation?' said the agent, instructed beforehand already.

"'I have none,' said he.

"'Then we put you down as "Wilhelm Gorgonzola, nothing,"' said the agent.

"'But I am not nothing,' cried Gorgonzola.

"'Then what are you—a butcher?" said the agent.

"'You are insulting,' said Gorgonzola, indignantly.

"'We may be, but we do not intend to be,' said the agent. 'The man who is nothing is nothing; if he is not nothing, he is something else. Therefore you may be a butcher.'

"'You cannot have my name at all, then,' said Gorgonzola, with an angry wave of his hand.

"'Oh yes, we can,' replied the agent. 'Your name is here. Therefore we have your name and address. Your occupation is what we wish to learn. If you are not occupied, we will put you down as "vacant," or "to let," or as "nothing." We are under contract to the Board of Trade to give them a complete Directory, and we intend to do so. What, then, are you?'

"'Well, you see,' said Gorgonzola, desperately, 'as yet I am nothing, but I hope to be an author—'

"'And how soon do you hope to be an author?" asked the agent.

"'It may come at any time—to-morrow, or the next day—or the day after—'

"'Oh, well, then, it is all right already,' put in the agent, 'for our Directory will not be out before that. Under no circumstances can we have it ready before to-morrow, or the next day, or the day after. I will therefore put you down as an "author," for doubtless you will be one before our Directory is published.'

"To this," Hans continued, "poor old Gorgonzola weakly consented. You see, he fully expected to be one before the Directory came out; but, alas! he was too hopeful. The day of publication arrived, and as yet he had not written a line. He sent word to Bingenburg and Rheinfels, and begged them to wait a month; but they said no, they would wait ten days and no longer.

"'But I have not yet even an idea for my book,' said Gorgonzola.

"'That is not our fault,' replied Bingenburg and Rheinfels. 'You have had six months in which to become an "author"; we grant you ten days more. If you are not one by that time, our Directory will have to come out, anyhow, and inasmuch as we have your authorization to put you down as such, we shall require that you shall be one at least in name by then, for we have promised that the[Pg 357] book shall have no errors. If we get into trouble with the Board of Trade on your account, then shall we sue you for the damages!'"

"The poor old fellow," said I, my sympathy aroused.

BINGENBURG CAME IN PERSON TO SEE HIM.

"It was a dreadfully hard position for him, no doubt," said Hans; "but, after all, it was his own fault, and has been so ever since. When the ten days were up, Gorgonzola had even yet not an idea, much less a book, and Bingenburg came in person to see him. Gorgonzola begged him to blot out the word author, but neither he nor Rheinfels would go to the expense, and they threatened that if he ever denied that he was an author, in public or in private, they would ruin him. 'It is all your own doings,' said Rheinfels. 'We would gladly have put you down as a butcher, or a baker, or anything else that is easy to be, and you would not let us. We offered to put you down as a nothing, and you grew angry, and it was yourself that said you expected to be an author before our Directory came out, and we put you down so with your consent. Now our Directory has cost us five thousand thalers to make, and if one mistake is found therein the Board of Trade will decline to take it off our hands, and we shall lose all that money; and so it comes that you have got to keep your promise to us and be what you said you would.'

"'I see,' moaned Gorgonzola; 'I cannot blame you, Rheinfels. But it is awfully hard.'

"'It would have been easier to be a butcher, but you would not,' put in Bingenburg.

"'I know, I know,' said Gorgonzola, 'but I hate butchering.'

"'Well, anyhow,' said Rheinfels, 'the entry is going to attract attention, and the Board of Trade will try to find an error in the book so that they may not have to pay us, and we want you to understand that we hold you responsible for this. If they summon you, you must confess.'

"'Confess?' cried Gorgonzola. 'Confess what?'

"'That you are an author,' said Rheinfels, calmly.

"'But suppose they ask me of what?' pleaded Gorgonzola, wringing his hands.

"'That is your business, not ours,' retorted Bingenburg and Rheinfels in one breath, and with that they left him.

"And so it happened," continued Hans. "The Directory was published, and the Board of Trade appointed a Committee of Three on Errors, who should read the book and see if it should be paid for or confiscated. Ten possible errors were discovered. Nine of them were found not to be errors, but in the case of Gorgonzola they reported that since he was not an author there was clearly one error in the book, and that they therefore recommended the non-acceptance of the Directory. The Board so decided, and Bingenburg and Rheinfels carried their case to the courts. The Board of Trade stated that they had rejected the book upon the agreement in the contract that one error should be sufficient to relieve them of the payment required, and they had fifty witnesses to say that Gorgonzola was not an author, but a mild-mannered gentleman who had struck them as being a querist.

"'A querist?' asked the Judge.

"'Yes,' said the witnesses. 'A querist—one who is only queer and nothing else.'

"Then Bingenburg and Rheinfels called Gorgonzola as a witness. Poor old fellow! he felt awfully about it, but he had to testify.

"'Your name,' said the lawyer.

HANS JOSEF WILHELM GORGONZOLA, AUTHOR.

"'Hans Josef Wilhelm Gorgonzola,' he replied.

"'A good name for an author,' sneered the lawyer. 'What is your business?'

"'I am an author,' said Gorgonzola, with tears in his eyes.

"'He confesses it! he confesses it!' cried Bingenburg and Rheinfels, overjoyed, while the Board of Trade looked blue, and the Judge called the firm to order.

"'Author of what?' asked the lawyer, triumphantly.

"Gorgonzola hesitated, and Bingenburg and Rheinfels held their breath.

"'Of—what I have written,' said Gorgonzola, sadly.

"'And what is that?' insisted the lawyer.

"'I cannot tell,' said Gorgonzola, 'because it—it is my secret. If I told what I have written, some one else might steal it and publish it over his name, and all my work would be gone for nothing, which is hardly fair.'

"'A good point,' said the Judge, nodding pleasantly at Gorgonzola.

"'But you have never published anything?' said the lawyer in a manner so impressive as to affect the jury.

"'No,' said Gorgonzola. 'No, I have never published anything; but that is because I am not a publisher. If I were a publisher, I should publish. As I am only an author, I merely authorize.'

"'Do not authors frequently publish?' asked the lawyer.

"'Often,' returned Gorgonzola. 'But I am not of that kind. It is said by some who seem to know that the best books are still unwritten, much less published. I am writing one of the unwritten and unpublished books.'

"'Yet you have written something?' suggested the Judge, who admired the modest demeanor of Gorgonzola.

"'Yes,' said Gorgonzola. 'I have written the first paragraph of my new book.'

"'Then,' said the Judge, 'the entry is correct. If he has written the first paragraph, or even the first word of his new novel, he is an author, and I so decide. Next case.'

"So," said Hans, "it was decided that Gorgonzola was properly entered as an author on the pages of the Schnitzelhammerstein Directory, and the Board of Trade was compelled to pay for it. That," Hans added, "was twenty years ago."

"As long ago as that, eh?" said I. "And was Gorgonzola's novel published later?"

"No," said Hans. "Not yet. You see, he is still at work on it. That is why you see that dim light from his study window. Gorgonzola begins work at seven in the morning and retires at midnight. He is still at work on the novel, but, having written that first paragraph, we of course allude to him as the Author."

I laughed again. I had to, though I still had a great sympathy for Gorgonzola.

"What was his first paragraph?" I asked, very much interested; "or don't you know?"

"Yes, indeed, I know," replied Hans. "He has read it[Pg 358] to me many times. Let's see—it is like this: 'It was a pleasant day in June. The buds were bursting on the trees, and all nature seemed alive, as Gretchen walked down the stairs and out into the garden.'"

"That's a good start," said I. "And tell me, Mr. Mayor, how far has he got in these twenty years?"

"He is still at work on his second paragraph," said the Mayor.

"Well," said I, "there's a good story for you—but, after all, Hans, it hasn't much of a moral."

"Oh yes, it has," retorted Hans. "It has a great moral. In fact you English-speaking people have the very moral well expressed."

"Indeed," said I, anxiously, "what is that?"

"First be sure you write, then go ahead," said Hans, simply.

## THE MIDDLETON BOWL.[1]

### BY ELLEN DOUGLAS DELAND.

### CHAPTER V.

Yes, some one was in the room. Theodora felt a little thrill of excitement as she realized this fact. Was it a robber who had hidden there? Perhaps, though, it was only one of the servants. She felt almost disappointed when this thought crossed her mind—a robber would be so much more uncommon. And yet he might try to kill her; robbers frequently did such things. She withdrew more into the shadow, and waited.

Not another sound was to be heard. Brave as she naturally was, Theodora felt a tremor of fear as she sat there in the silence of the night. She was quite sure that she had heard something; of that there was no doubt. She knew with absolute certainty that some one or something alive was in her aunts' parlor besides herself.

Should she go and call somebody? No, that would not do, for her aunts had had too much excitement already. If they knew that a burglar—for it certainly might be one—was in the drawing-room they would without doubt scream and faint, and that would be bad for her aunt Joanna, to say the least. The servants would be useless, for they were all elderly, and were quite as unstrung as were their five mistresses, and John, the only man of the household, was ill in his room over the stable.

The doctor was upstairs, to be sure, but it was early in the night, and he was in close attendance upon his patient, who was not yet out of danger. All these thoughts passed rapidly through Teddy's mind, and she saw that she must act alone.

"I don't believe a robber would kill a little girl," she said to herself, "and I will speak to him very politely."

Her first act was to walk around the room pulling up all the Venetian-blinds as high as they would go. There were seven windows in the large room—two at each end, and three on the side that had the two fireplaces. On the fourth side of the room were two doors, one leading into the front hall, the other into the back. The parlor occupied the whole of that side of the main house. The kitchens were in the "L" at the back, cut off by a door into the hall.

It required some courage to go from window to window, particularly when Teddy reached that part of the room whence the sound had come, but she felt that she must have as much light as possible. Her fingers trembled as she tried to fasten the cord which held the blinds. Once their strength failed them, and the slats of the blind fell down with a terrifying clatter; but she pulled them up again, and wound the cord firmly about the hook.

At last the seven shades were up, and the room was as light as the world without. Only here and there lay a black shadow which might contain—anything! Teddy then took up her position near the door, that she might escape should affairs become very alarming, and tried to speak. At first not a sound came from her. She cleared her throat, and tried again.

"Is anybody in this room?" she asked. Only the silence and the shadows made reply. "I am quite sure some one is," she continued, gaining courage at the sound of her own voice; "I heard you breathe a little while ago, and I heard you knock something. If you don't come out I shall have to go and call Dr. Morton, who is upstairs. He is with my aunt Joanna, who is very ill. I should lock the parlor doors while I am gone, so you couldn't get out."

She thought this was a brilliant inspiration, quite forgetting the seven windows within easy reach of the ground. To this long speech, however, there was no reply.

"I declare, it is too bad!" went on Teddy. "I do think you might say something. I won't let any one hurt you, and if you are a robber I'll let you get away as easily as anything, if you'll only come out!"

She ceased again, and suddenly a voice replied. It sounded so near, and it was so unexpected—for she had now almost made up her mind that no one was there, after all—that it made Teddy jump.

"Do you mean that?" it said.

"Yes, of course I do," said she, speaking very rapidly, and fixing her eyes upon the old-fashioned sofa with the high back, whence the voice seemed to proceed. "Please come out and tell me who you are and what you want."

The sofa was placed across a corner, and as Teddy watched it eagerly it was pushed slightly from behind, and a boyish figure rose against the wall. There was something about the intruder that seemed familiar to her, and she stepped forward.

"Why—why, is it you?" she exclaimed, as the boy climbed over the sofa and stood in the moonlight.

"Yes, it's me," was the reply.

Sure enough, it was Andy Morse, the boy who stoned the kitten.

"Why, what do you want here?" asked Teddy, all her fear vanishing at sight of this well-known face. "I am so glad it is you, for, do you know, I was really afraid it was somebody come to steal something. What have you come for, and why did you come in such a queer way in the middle of the night?"

The boy shuffled his feet, and looked away from her.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" she continued.

"Yes," said he, in a hoarse whisper; "I'm awful hungry."

"Oh, are you? Well, just wait here, and I'll get you something to eat. Or perhaps you had better come with me, for my aunts don't like to have eating in the parlor. You might drop the crumbs, you know. I often do. We'll go out to the kitchen; but first I must find some matches."

"Here's one," said Morse, diving into his pocket.

He followed her through the door into the back hall. She could not reach the gas-burner, so he lighted it for her both there and in the kitchen. She went to the bread-box and took out a loaf of Catharine's delicious Graham-bread, and then she went to the refrigerator in the hall and procured some butter. A pitcher of milk and some cold mutton were also within reach. These she brought and placed upon the kitchen table, inviting her guest at the same time to draw up a chair. Then, having supplied him with a knife and fork, and some cookies which she found in the store-room, she sat down at the table herself.

"I am hungry too," she remarked, affably. "I have been up all night, and I went after the doctor on a bicycle. It makes you awfully hungry to do so much in the night."

Her guest made no reply to this, but devoted himself to[Pg 359] his supper with an avidity which left no doubt of his being hungry himself. Every drop of the milk had disappeared, every scrap of meat upon the mutton bone had been devoured before he spoke. Then he pushed back his chair. "Thank you," said he. "I 'ain't had nothin' ter eat since day before yesterday."

"Oh!" cried Theodora, "I don't wonder you were hungry! Won't you have something more? Why, how did it happen?"

"It happened 'cause I'm tired of askin' folks ter give me somethun when they don't want ter, and I 'ain't had no money ter pay for it, and yer can't get nothin' without payin' for it unless yer wants ter get chucked inter jail. So that is the reason I come here. I thought I'd get ter jail sooner or later, and I might as well try for somethun big first. Yer don't much care what yer do when yer as hungry as I was."

"What do you mean?" asked Teddy. "I don't quite understand what you say about jail."

The boy looked at her in silence for a moment or two. "Look ahere," said he, at last. "I thought I hated yer 'count o' that black eye yer give me long o' that cat. I 'ain't never been set onter by a girl before, and it jest made me rippin' mad. I didn't s'pose I'd ever git over it, and I'd 'a' liked ter 'a' paid yer back over and over again, but I feel diff'runt now. Yer've been mighty perlite, and give me as good a lot o' victuals as I ever tasted. I feel better, now I've got somethun inside o' me, and I'm agoin' ter tell yer somethun. I don't believe, after all, as yer the kind o' girl as would git me inter trouble."

"Oh no; of course not!" said Teddy, earnestly. "I was very mad at you that day, for I do think it is perfectly horrible for any one to hurt an animal. I'm sorry I hurt you very badly, but I may just as well tell you the truth. You had better never do it again if you see me anywhere near, for I am sure, perfectly sure, that it would make me just as mad as it did that day, and I am very much afraid I should attack you the same way. My aunts did not like my doing it at all, and they said it was unladylike, and I suppose it was. But oh! you don't know how angry it makes me to see any one cruel to animals!"

They were standing facing each other, the little girl in her pretty red frock, with the mass of tumbled brown hair falling over her shoulders; the tall ungainly boy in his ragged clothes, twisting his hat in his hands as he listened to this tirade. When she had finished, he lifted his eyes and looked at her admiringly.

"I WON'T STONE NO MORE KITTENS, NOT IF I CAN HELP IT, NOR PUPPIES NEITHER."

"Yer a good one," said he. "I kinder like yer underneath fer it, though yer did give me a black eye and make me mad. And yer've been that good ter me ter-night, givin' me such a lot ter eat, that I'm willin' ter promise yer somethun. I won't stone no more kittens, not if I can help it, nor puppies neither."

"Oh, thank you!" cried Theodora, fervently. "I am so much obliged to you for saying that! Will you really be kind to animals after this? You don't know what a relief to my mind it is. I have often thought of you since, and wondered if you were being cruel; and now I shall feel quite easy about you. The poor kitten died, you know."

Morse said nothing to this.

"And we had a funeral," continued Teddy. "That was a dreadful day altogether, except the funeral. That was nice, but a terrible misfortune happened to our family that day. But you said you were going to tell me something. Was it about being kind to animals?"

"No, it warn't about animals."

"What was it?" asked Theodora, much interested.

"Will yer promise not ter git me inter trouble?" he asked again.

"Of course I'll promise."

"Then I'll tell yer. Do yer know how I got in here ter-night?"

"No; I was going to ask you that."

"Well, yer know when yer went out on the bike?"

"When I went for the doctor? Yes."

"Well, I was down near the gate, a-hangin' round, not knowin' what I was agoin' ter do, and when I seen yer go by, I thinks here's a chance. Most likely she's left a door open or somethun, and I can git in and git somethun or other. Yer see, I was so hungry I was ready for anything. And I found the back door open, and I walked in as easy as anything. I was afraid to hide in the kitchen, for I heard people movin' round, so I crep' inter the parlor, for I knew the big sofa there'd hide me."

"Why, how did you know that?" asked Theodora. "Have you ever been in our parlor?"

The boy dropped his eyes again, and again shifted his hat.

"I jest thought there'd be some place there," said he; "most folks has sofas."

"And what were you going to do? Were you going to stay there all night?"

"I was agoin' ter stay there till the house got quiet, and then I was agoin' ter make a grab and be off."

"A grab?" repeated Teddy, wonderingly.

"Yes, a grab. I was agoin' ter take a lot o' things—them silver things and some o' the chiny—anythin' I could get."

"You mean you were going to steal something?"

"Yes," he said, doggedly.

Theodora drew a step nearer.

"Then you were a robber after all!" she said. "I never saw one before. But oh, I am so sorry it was you! I am too sorry! I was just getting to like you, because you said you would be kind to animals after this. Are, you really a robber?"

"I ain't one yet," said the boy, "and now I dun'no' as I'll ever be one. I feel kinder diff'runt about it, now I've got somethun inside o' me. I guess you'd feel like stealin' if yer hadn't had nothin' ter eat since day before yesterday."

"I do believe I would," said Theodora, compassionately; "it must be perfectly awful! But oh, I hope you won't steal anything. It is such a wicked thing to do. You know there is a commandment entirely about that, so it must be one of the wickedest things there are. Please don't steal!"

"I won't," said Andy Morse. "I feel diff'runt now."

There was a pause, while Theodora rapidly thought over the situation.

"What are you going to do to-morrow?" she asked. "How will you get something to eat then?"

"Dun'no'. Trust ter luck, I guess."

"Haven't you any relations?"

"Only an uncle, and he's drunk most o' the time and won't give me nothin'."

"And won't any of your friends give you anything?"

"'Ain't got none, and I'm tired of askin' people ter give me victuals. There ain't no one as seems ter want ter. Yer see, I've got a kinder bad name round here. That's the reason I can't get no work."

"Wouldn't you like some money?" asked Teddy. "I've got some upstairs I could very well give you, if you would let me. Then you could buy yourself something to eat for a few days, at any rate."

The boy looked at her. "Yer a real good un," said he, after a moment's grateful pause. "If I had a little money ter git some decent clo'es, I might git some work somewhere or other. I'd rather be honest if I can, but a poor shabby-lookin' feller like me don't stand no chance, and everybody in Alden thinks I'm no good. If I could git away from here, I might git somethun ter do somewheres else. Do yer really mean yer'd give me some money?"

"Of course I do," replied Teddy; "I'll go up and get it now. It's in my bank. Suppose we put this light out and go back to the parlor; you can wait for me there."

They reached the drawing-room door, and Teddy, opening it, motioned to her guest to go in and be seated. The moonlight still flooded the room, and it lighted up the old silver snuffers and trays, the tall silver candelabra which flanked both ends of the two mantel-pieces, and even Great-grandfather Middleton's gold snuff-box, which was always kept upon a cabinet in the front of the room.

"Say!" exclaimed Andy Morse, in a sharp whisper; "ain't yer 'fraid ter leave me here with all them things? Ain't yer 'fraid I might steal 'em, after all?"

"Oh no," said Theodora, following him into the room and[Pg 360] closing the door; "of course not. You just told me you wouldn't steal, that you were going to be honest, and of course I believe you."

And then she went out of the parlor and left him alone in the moonlight with the gold and the silver, and all the priceless china, from the Middleton bowl down. She was absent about ten minutes. When she returned she carried a small silk bag in her hand, which she gave to Morse.

"It is all in there," she said—"all I have. I just emptied my bank right into that work-bag, for I thought it would be easier for you to carry the money that way. I don't know how much there is there, but I think it is about fifteen dollars, for I've been saving it for some time. It seems heavy, for so much of it is in pennies and five and ten cent pieces, but I don't believe you will mind carrying it."

Andy Morse was speechless. He took the bag, shook it, weighed it, looked at it in the light. Twice he tried to speak, but no words came.

"Do yer—do yer really mean ter give me all this?" he stammered at last.

"Certainly I do," replied Teddy. "I only hope it will be enough for you to get what you want."

"Look ahere," said Andy; "jest yer listen ter me! I solemnly promise I'll act straight after this. I won't steal, and I won't hurt no animals, and I won't do nothin' yer wouldn't like. And if I ever make enough, I'll pay yer back this money, sure 's I'm alive. I'll count it, and I'll pay yer back every cent. Do yer believe me?"

"Yes, indeed I do; but you needn't bother about paying it back, for you really need it a great deal more than I do." As she spoke her glance fell upon the Middleton bowl, gleaming in the moonlight. "Before you go, I want to show you this," she said, moving over to the Chinese table in the window.

"This was broken the day—the day the kitten died, and we can't find out who did it. It is very, very valuable, and all of our family think more of it than anything else we own, because my great-grandfather brought it home and gave it to his son, and when my aunts die it is to go to my father, and then to me. It is never to go out of the family, and now it is broken, and had to be mended. We can't find out who did it, and it has given us lots of trouble. My aunts thought at first that I did it, and sometimes they think so now, I am sure; but I didn't. It makes me so unhappy to think they don't believe me." She paused for a moment and gazed at the bowl. Then she continued. "It isn't nice not to be believed, and that is the reason I am telling you about it. I just happened to think of it. I want to tell you again that I really and truly believe you. I don't want you to feel unhappy about that, the way I do about the Middleton bowl."

Andy looked at it in silence. Then he turned away.

"I'm agoin' now," he said. "Good-by. Yer've saved me, and I'll never forgit it. Would yer please tell me what yer name is?" he asked, shyly. "Yer first name, I mean. Of course I know yer other name's Middleton."

"Theodora," said she, "but everybody calls me Teddy, and I like that best. Good-by! I hope you will be able to get some work. I'm very glad I came down here to-night. If Aunt Joanna hadn't been so ill I shouldn't have come. If I can ever do anything else for you, I wish you would tell me. Please go out the back door, the way you came in, if you don't mind, for I am afraid my aunts might hear the front door shut, and it would frighten them."

She followed him to the back door and watched him walk away in the moonlight, swinging the bag in his hand. Then she closed the door and went back to the drawing-room.

"It must be dreadful to be so hungry," she said, to herself, as she again stood by the Middleton bowl, "and I'm glad I told him I believed him. It certainly is dreadful not to be believed."

#### [to be continued.]

[Pg 361]

## A LOYAL TRAITOR.

#### A STORY OF THE WAR OF 1812 BETWEEN AMERICA AND ENGLAND.

### BY JAMES BARNES.

### CHAPTER XVI.

### WHY I NEVER REACHED FRANCE.

We drew up our horses before the house nearest to the stone pier or jetty that ran out some hundred feet or more from the shore. On one side of it was a small dock or basin large enough to give shelter to four or five fishing-boats about the size of those we call dories in New England.

As we dismounted, Monsieur de Brissac gave a halloo, and a figure appeared in the doorway. I was surprised to see that it was Monsieur de la Remy. He called back into the room, and a man followed him out and took our horses.

"Ah, De Brissac! you're on time as usual, and I see that you have not forgotten your way," Monsieur de la Remy cried, as he grasped my patron's elbows in his two hands in a half embrace. Then he bowed to me without much effusion. "Good-morning, Monsieur le Marquis," was all he said.

I had not known that my host of the Gloucester Arms was going to be one of us, and so expressed my surprise at seeing him. He made no explanation, but I take it he must have been in London for some time, and that he had come direct from there, although I had not met him at any of the routs or parties I had attended.

"Why should I forget my way, monsieur?" my patron said, laughing, as he paused on the door-step. "Have I not travelled it every month for three years?"

As we entered the house the Marquis de Senez was standing at the door, and greeted us in his usual reserved way. We were in a large room, and I noticed the smell of the same kind of tobacco that the sailors use on shipboard in the English service—a smell that seems to cling to them and to all of their belongings—but apparently none of the gentlemen had been smoking.

"Everything is most propitious," said De Senez, as he brought forward two chairs from the table. "Dame Fortune smiles on us. But pardon me; you have not noticed Monsieur de Rembolez."

It was then that I saw for the first time that there was a figure sitting back in the dark shadows in the corner of the room. I recognized the name, and as soon as the man stepped forward into the light of the single candle, I remembered his face, and that I had seen it in London. He was a sharp-featured, thick-set man—that is, big as to his chest and shoulders, but very light and muscular in his underpinning. His eyes were so black that they appeared all pupils, and his teeth were so large and even that I believe that he could have bitten a tenpenny nail in two with them, as his jaw also looked strong as a vise. I did[Pg 362] not like the man, and as I had good cause to remember afterwards, he on his part had conceived no great affection for me.

At the mention of my name he merely glanced up and showed his teeth, at which I was tempted to show mine in return, for the meaning of that display was rather ambiguous. He was to be the fifth one of the party, and I am quite sure he was not of Monsieur de Brissac's choosing.

"It's a good night for the crossing," observed Monsieur de Senez. "Did you see the lookout on the cliff as you came down?"

"I doubt not he saw us," retained my patron. "But he probably kept well hidden. Is everything ready? Is Captain St. Croix here?"

"Yes, and most of his crew within calling distance," returned the steel-jawed man, casting a look over his shoulder.

I saw no door, or anything that would suggest that there was an adjoining room, for the one we were in occupied the whole ground-floor of the house; but behind De Rembolez was a tall oak cupboard that reached almost to the ceiling. There had come a lull in our conversation; De Senez and the host of the Gloucester Arms were talking in whispers, and Monsieur de Brissac was engaged in pulling off his heavy riding-boots. All at once the low grumbling of men's voices in talk was heard, and then an oath in good seafaring English issued apparently from the tall cupboard. I fairly jumped as the door of it was opened outward and a great, black-whiskered man stepped out of it. Then I saw where the smell of tobacco came from, for the smoke rolled out with him, and the ember in his long clay pipe was glowing.

ASTONISHED, I LOOKED PAST HIM, AND SAW THAT THE CUPBOARD CONCEALED A GOOD-SIZED TRAP-DOOR.

Astonished, I looked past him, and saw that the cupboard concealed a good-sized trap-door; it was open, the top of a ladder extended through the floor, and the sound of voices came from below. It was a most ingenious idea. The cellar to which this passageway led was not under the house, but under the garden at the back of it. The floor of the room in which we were was made of hard, dry earth, and digging there would have revealed nothing.

I found out, by questioning afterwards on the voyage over, that the two other houses which abutted on the innocent-looking garden also had passageways that led to the cleverly concealed smugglers' cabin.

The bewhiskered man was addressed by the company as Captain St. Croix, but I would bet a new anchor to a ship's biscuit that he was more English than French, although his accent was fairly good.

"It looks the night for our purpose, gentlemen," he said. "We have brewed a punch below. What say you I send for some of it, and we will pledge a successful passage to the Hirondelle, eh?"

"And destruction to the Corsican upstart," put in he of the beady eyes.

The Captain gave a halloo down the shaft and ordered some one to bring up the punch-bowl. At the same time he set about getting us something to eat from a rough side-board near the fireplace.

Just as a man's head appeared coming up the ladder there were three sharp knocks on the door, and a tall fisher-lad in a dripping great-coat came in.

"It's thick and raining," he said. "I've seen the lights of the old boat. She'll be off the point in a few minutes."

"Then we must bear a hand," said the Captain. "So, gentlemen, let us eat and drink and dispense with ceremony."

I was very hungry, and fell to at once, as did the others. In half an hour we left the shelter of the house, and hurrying down to the dock, we were all crowded into one of the row-boats. Then pulling away, we headed against the driving rain through the half-darkness.

As it was wet when we reached the Hirondelle, I followed the four other gentlemen down into the little cabin, although my love of the sea was returning so strongly that I was tempted to stay on deck and court a soaking.

The little box of a place in which we were sitting was dimly lighted with a swinging lamp, and as we conversed of the plot and object of our trip (of which I shall say nothing), I could tell that we were travelling at a good rate of speed by the rushing and lapping of the water against the bull. The reason I do not give any full account of the plot in which I was supposed to be engaged is that I think even now I should keep it silent, as it concerns neither me nor my story.

After a time we all fell asleep, most of us in a sitting posture, and I was the first to awaken. It was between three and four, and still raining, when I came out of the close musty cabin and breathed the fine air. I noticed we had shortened sail, and that a man in the bow was heaving the lead. He did not call out the soundings, but signalled them to the Captain by motions of his hand. I knew we must be in shoal water, but in how many fathoms I could not tell. All at once the man at the wheel threw the lugger up into the wind, and we lay hove to for probably half an hour. Every one on deck was listening.

Suddenly the dark shape of a great row-boat could be seen approaching, and going below into the cabin I aroused the rest of the passengers; De Rembolez appeared rather nervous.

Where the lugger put off her cargo I do not know, for as soon as the five of us had clambered over her side into the row-boat, and Monsieur De Senez had given a handful of gold to the Captain, the latter stood off presumably to the southward, while we rowed directly to the east.

Not a word had been spoken by the rowers or the man at the tiller, and I was so interested in wondering what next was going to happen that I was perfectly satisfied to curb my curiosity and ask no questions. I was not anxious to anticipate, and felt really sad to think that I was soon to leave M. De Brissac—for what, I knew not.

We were off the coast between Dunkerque and Gravelines, and I should judge that the boat had rowed out some seven or eight miles. The men at the oars looked part Dutch and part French. They were a villanous-looking set, however, and the fellow at the tiller appeared little above them in order of intelligence; but while we were pulling straight ahead, the cockswain suddenly stood up straight in his box.

"Arrêtez!" he whispered, hoarsely.

The men backed-water skilfully, but yet such headway did the boat have on that it required three or four efforts before we came to a stop. There right ahead of us lay a long white, lapstreak boat, sharp at both ends. She had pulled directly athwart our bows. Had we been keeping a sharp lookout we would have seen her long before, as her crew must have had us in sight for some minutes. One glance at them told me that these men were not Frenchmen. De Rembolez had stood up almost as soon as the cockswain, and was looking forward eagerly, but I saw his face change to a puzzled expression.

"Les Anglais!" exclaimed the cockswain between his teeth.

A few strokes of the long oars that the men in the stranger craft wielded, and she was almost alongside of us.

"Un pilote," said a voice with an execrable accent and a drawling twang through the nose. "We want a pilot. Avez-vous un pilote?"

"We have no pilot for you!" answered Monsieur de la Remy, in good English. "Keep away from us."

But what was I doing at this very moment?

It was with difficulty that I was restraining an inclination to plunge overboard and strike out for the whale-boat.

It is almost past believing, but unless my eyes were playing me false, there stood my old friend Cy Plummer of the Minetta, balancing a boat-hook in his hand. This aside, it would have required but a close glance at the wiry, strong-knit figures and the keen sharp-featured faces, for one who knew, to declare that they were no English press-gang bullies, but Yankee sailor-men.

I was trying to find my voice, which had left me in my astonishment, but the nobleman landlord did not notice my condition, and was still continuing his warning.

"Come no closer," he said. "At your peril. We have no pilot for you."

At the same time he drew from the breast of his coat a small double-barrelled pistol.

[Pg 363]

"Who are you and where do you come from?" put in De Rembolez.

There was evidently some consternation in the white boat at hearing the sound of English. The men were leaning forward preparing to take a stroke, and Plummer was evidently perplexed and at a loss what to do, when I found my tongue.

"Plummer! Cy Plummer! get me out of this," I cried.

We were so near by this time that our oars were almost touching, but the astonishment occasioned on both sides by my sudden outbreak seemed to paralyze all hands.

"Who in the name of Davy Jones are you?" Plummer questioned, quickly.

"John Hurdiss of the Young Eagle," I cried, throwing off my cloak. Just as I was about to dive overboard I felt myself grasped about the arm.

It was De Rembolez who had laid hold of me. The words he hissed I did not catch, but in order to loose myself I drew back my free hand and caught him a blow fairly between the eyes. He did not relax his hold, however, and endeavored to throw me into the bottom of the boat. Although he was a powerful man, he probably did not know much about wrestling. I had the firmer footing, and twisting him round, I turned the tables, and was forcing him away from me, when he sank his great white teeth into the sleeve of my coat. Had he caught my flesh I might have lost the use of my arm, but as it was he laid hold of the cloth only, and the sleeve parted at the shoulder; but the little French cockswain now decided to take a hand, and sprang upon me from behind, but the result was to my helping. I just remembered hearing the sharp snapping of Monsieur de la Remy's pistol, which missed fire, when I went overboard over the gunwale, and with me fell Beady Eyes and the little cockswain. I came up between the two boats. In the mean time both the crews were laying about with their oars over my head, and there was a lusty scrimmage going on. As soon as he felt the water closing over him, De Rembolez released his hold, but the little 'longshoreman in the striped shirt still held on, and before I knew it some one grabbed me and him also, and pulled us both over into the long white boat. Somehow the combatants had drifted apart, and with a quickness that was surprising the Yankees had got out their oars and were giving way.

I scrambled to my feet, and looking over the stern I saw that the other boat was after us, but they never could have caught us had they been pulling two men on a thwart. In five minutes they turned about and made off in the opposite direction.

"Douse my top-lights!" exclaimed Plummer, leaning forward and smearing the blood away from a slight wound on the side of his face. "Where, in the name of goodness, did you come from, lad?"

"From an English prison, in the first place," I said; "but it's a long story. Oh, but I will be glad to see our colors again!"

The French cockswain here interrupted any more questions or explanations by an effort to jump overboard.

"Lay hold of him," cried Plummer to the men in the bow. "Hold the frog-eater!" and in a minute they had pinioned the little Frenchman down. "Pull, larboard; hold, star-board!" Plummer cried all at once, jamming the helm down, and I, following the glance of his eye, saw the outlines of a vessel not five hundred yards away.

"What ship is that?" I asked.

"The Yankee, privateer," my friend replied. "The luckiest vessel ever launched—that's honest truth. Oh, we've some yarns to spin, my son, and so must you, and, ecod! we'll have a time of it. I can scarce believe that it is you at all, lad. But it's just the sort of a thing I might expect would happen on a cruise like the one we've had since leaving Buzzard's Bay."

"Well, I have had some adventures myself, Plummer," I said. "And in the very first place, I owe you a debt of gratitude for the loan of the clothes and cap, my man."

Now upon my soul I did not mean to be condescending in my speech, but there must have been something in my tone that caused the honest seaman to make a change in his.

"I hope they brought you luck, sir," he said.

I noticed that he had said "sir" involuntarily.

"Indeed they did," I returned. "I'll have to tell you all about it."

But now the bowmen were getting in their oars, and we were close alongside of a small topsail schooner, as fine a bit of ship-building as one would wish to see. She was hove to, and the great mainsail was crackling, and the reef-points keeping up a continuous drumming against it; and the sound was good to my ears.

"What have we here?" called a voice over the rail, only a few feet above our heads.

"A pilot and a passenger," answered Plummer, fending the whale-boat off from the side of the schooner with his hands.

A short rope was thrown over to us, and, laying hold of it, I clambered over the bulwarks, and came down on deck, where I found myself face to face with one of the strangest-looking figures that I have met in the course of my adventures.

Before me stood a slight stoop-shouldered man, dressed in a blue broadcloth coat and a long yellow satin waist-coat. He had on a pair of tight-fitting buckskin breeches thrust into heavy sea-boots. The expression on his face was the remarkable thing about him. At first I thought that he was laughing at me, for his light blue eyes had such an eager twinkling light in them that they appeared to show amusement. His mouth was parted in a smile, and a continual lifting and lowering of his eyebrows lent the idea that he considered me or my appearance some huge joke.

"Is this the passenger or the pilot?" he asked, lifting a heavy cocked hat, and giving it a little flourish, as it were, over his head.

"Neither passenger nor pilot," I replied, "but an escaped prisoner from England, who is anxious to get a chance to fight for America again. I was captured from the Young Eagle, privateer."

The man's voice had surprised me. It was as fresh and young as a boy's. When I mentioned the Young Eagle he made a grimace as if he were about to whistle, but he changed it to a little rippling laugh.

"Oh, ho! Temple of Stonington, eh! Such a reckless, careless devil. I know him. Good sailor, though. So you would ship with us?"

"Yes, sir," I answered. "And try to do my duty."

"Oh, we can use you, never fear," the strange man chuckled. "And now where are we?"

"Eh?" I ejaculated.

"What's our latitude and longitude?" he inquired.

This was a puzzler for me, for I hardly knew one from the other, and could not have answered.

"Do you mean to say that you don't know that?" I asked, trying to fend off answering.

"I haven't the slightest idea where I am," he answered. "I don't know whether I'm in the English Channel, the North Sea, or the Bay of Biscay."

This was told to me as if it were another huge joke, but I thought it was a strange condition for the Captain of a vessel to be in.

"We're off the coast of France," I said, "not far from Dunkerque."

"Dunkerque?" repeated the Captain. "Ho, ho! that's fortunate."

At this moment Plummer, with two or three of the crew of the whale-boat, which was being hoisted in, came aft. They had the little Frenchman, who looked half frightened to death, with them.

"Here's the pilot, Captain Gorham," Plummer said, touching his cap.

The Captain's reply to this, and the effect of it, almost took my breath away.

"Ah, Pierre," he said, "c'est donc vous? How is Madame Burron, and the little ones?"

The little Frenchman drew back, and then fell at the Captain's feet, grasping his hand.

"Ah, Capitaine Rieur, bonne fortune!" he cried, and he mumbled something I could not catch.

#### [to be continued.]

[Pg 364]

AN IMPROMPTU HOSPITAL FOR EUROPEANS.

## CAPTAIN LEARY'S SAMOAN EXPERIENCE.

#### SOME STIRRING INCIDENTS IN RECENT AMERICAN NAVAL HISTORY.

### BY FRANKLIN MATTHEWS.

On October 23, 1888, there occurred an incident in Apia Harbor, Samoa, which sorely tried the patience of Commander Leary, in charge of the United States war-vessel Adams, and which soon led directly to other incidents that nearly caused a war between this country and Germany. The representatives of the foreign governments had met a few days before, and had decided that a "neutral zone" should be established in and about Apia. A party of unarmed natives were crossing the harbor in one of their canoes, singing one of their stirring native songs. The Samoans have beautiful voices, and the lusty melody of their song was rolling across the water. They had just dug up an old and practically worthless cannon which the Tamasese party in the civil war had thrown overboard.

A NATIVE WAR CANOE.

Suddenly two volleys of rifle-shots and several stray shots were fired from the German war-ship Adler on the canoe.

Fortunately none of the party was killed, but the boat was sunk, and the natives had to swim to the shore to save their lives. Some of the shots entered houses of foreigners on shore. Leary's blood boiled with anger that such an occurrence should happen within the neutral zone, that the war-ship of any nation should fire on a body of unarmed men, and that Germany should openly take the side of the Tamasese faction in the presence of another nation's war-ship. He at once sent a vigorous letter to the Captain of the Adler, in which he said:

> "I have the honor to inform you that the hostile attack made last night in this harbor by an armed force under your command upon a boat manned by natives, who were harmlessly crossing the harbor, was an act that seriously endangered the lives of the Americans and others, afloat and ashore, in the vicinity of Matautu, and cannot but be regarded otherwise than a most serious affair, coming so soon after arranging and accepting terms establishing neutral ground within the limits of which no hostilities should occur, with a view to securing safety to the foreign residents in and around Apia.

> "I am unable to understand your action, as the alleged causes of the attack cannot be accepted as justifying such dangerous and careless conduct. I shall report the affair to my government as a gross violation of the principles of international law, and as a breach of neutrality.

> "For the security of Americans and others within the neutral lines I protest against the apparently unwarranted attack made by your men last night, and also against a recurrence of any hostile action within the harbor, whereby the lives of foreigners and non-combatants would be jeopardized."

Leary did as he said he would do, and the records of the Navy Department show that in his report to the Secretary of the Navy he characterized this conduct by the Germans as a "most dastardly disregard for the safety of human life, as well as a cowardly breach of faith and neutrality." In this connection it may be said that in some cases the language of Leary's reports was softened when they were transmitted to Congress. A close examination of the written and printed reports shows many adjectives and phrases omitted. One can imagine what was omitted.

THE VAISIGNANO BRIDGE.

A few days before the natives were fired upon by the Adler's men another incident had occurred which showed the spirit that animated Leary. The Vaisignano bridge that connected the town of Apia with a suburb where most of the foreigners lived had been partly wrecked by a storm. Under the inspiration of the German authorities advertisements had been called for the removal of the bridge. This would have cut the foreigners off from the town, and have seriously crippled the work in the offices of the various consuls. It was proposed to establish a ferry instead of repairing the bridge. Leary saw the notice calling for the removal of the bridge posted on a tree near the bridge, and without hesitation tore it down, and sent word to the authorities that that bridge must not be removed. He then declared that he would repair the bridge, and protect it, if necessary, while this was being done with an armed force. Early the next day he lowered some boats from the Adams, and filled them with his sailors and marines fully armed. Then he sent his carpenters ashore, and they started to repair the bridge. The commander of the English war-ship in the harbor saw what was going on, and he also sent carpenters to assist in the work, and that bridge was never disturbed after that. The English and American residents on the island afterward co-operated in providing a[Pg 365] suitable hospital for the wounded in the Samoan fights, and in caring for them.

By this time there was a state of almost open hostility between the German and American war-ships. The great crisis came on November 15, 1888. About seven miles from Apia the forts of the Tamasese party and the Mataafa party faced each other on property that was clearly under American protection. The Mataafa party had received notice from the Germans to vacate the place or take the consequences. Mataafa hastily sent a runner to Captain Leary and informed him of the situation. He asked for advice. Leary sent word that he had a right to remain where he was, giving him some simple information in international law. Leary also said that he would not permit the German war-ship to fire on property under his protection.

Leary received his information about dusk on November 14. The Adler was to start out the next morning just before daybreak. Leary at once sent word to all of his officers who were ashore to report on board the ship by midnight, and to ask no questions. He knew that the Germans expected to steal a march on him, and were watching him to see if he had steam up. Had they seen smoke coming out of the smoke-pipes of the Adams they would have probably postponed the proposed attack until some time when they might catch Leary napping. He was ready for them. He had some anthracite coal on board. He transferred some live coals from his galley fire to the furnace under one boiler of the ship, and by using hard coal had a fire started there without attracting the attention of the Germans. It was slow work. When the fire was going well under the first boiler, he transferred live coals to another boiler, and then to another, and soon after midnight had full steam up on board the ship. The Germans, who always kept steam up, had not the slightest inkling of Leary's action.

Then Leary had his anchor-chains muffled with native mats, and waited for the outcome. All hands were summoned at four o'clock in the morning. Soon the anchors of the German ship were drawn up. Leary shortened his anchors. At last the German vessel with a rush started out of the harbor. Leary's anchors were up in a jiffy. He didn't stop to take in the hawser holding his ship to a pier by the stern. He fastened one end of the rope to a buoy and threw it overboard. Leary was pointed straight out to sea. The German Captain had to make a turn to get out. By the time the Adler reached the entrance to the harbor the Adams was close behind. The Germans saw the real situation at once. There was great excitement on board both vessels, but the Germans would not compromise themselves by turning back.

As the two ships, which were about equally matched in size and in fighting strength, reached the open sea, Leary was in the rear only a few hundred yards. The German vessel took a wide turn, and headed for the point of attack. Day was breaking then. Leary made a short turn close to the coral reefs, and cut in between the German and the shore. His boat lapped the stern of the German vessel, only about three hundred yards away. Suddenly the orders to clear for action were heard throughout the American ship. All preparations had been made for this, and with despatch the decks were cleared, ammunition was brought up, and the guns were loaded. The Germans saw what was going on, and they cleared for action also. Then the two ships went down the coast, dipping to the swells, and stripped for war. It was a trying occasion, and both commanders knew what tremendous results were dependent[Pg 366] upon the outcome of their actions that day. Steadily the ships held their course. When they approached the point where the forts were situated, the German ship slowed up and dropped anchor. Leary did the same. It was broad daylight now. Soon a boat was lowered from the German ship, and some German officials were sent ashore under a guard. Then it was that Leary ordered one of his boats cleared away to carry this note of warning to the Captain of the German ship, which Leary had written on the way down and after both ships had cleared for action:

"I AM HERE FOR THE PURPOSE OF PROTECTING THE SAME."

> "I have the honor to inform you that having received information that American property in the Latogo vicinity of Laulii, Lotoanuu, and Solo Solo is liable to be invaded this day, I am here for the purpose of protecting the same, and I hope that the friendly relations existing between our respective governments may prevent the occasion from causing any complaint."

The American officer was rowed over to the German ship and gave the note to the officer of the deck, and returned without waiting for any reply. Then the crews of the two vessels stood by their guns for hours waiting for developments. Leary's note was polite and firm; but when such a note is sent from the commander of one war-ship to the commander of another war-ship, and when the decks of both ships are cleared for action, it can mean but one thing—war. Leary meant that no shot should go over his deck into the settlement on shore. For several hours the two ships lay at anchor, with the crews waiting to spring at each other. Soon after noon the Germans got under way again, and made a long detour down the coast, with the Americans close behind, and still ready for battle. Then slowly the German vessel turned about and steamed for Apia Harbor. Leary followed with his ship. Both came to anchor in the places from which they had started early in the day, and that incident, laden with frightful possibilities for two great nations, was ended.

Leary was ordered home soon afterward, and it is known that he received the personal thanks from our officials in the highest seats of government. The strangest part of the affair, however, is the fact that no official notice was ever taken of his splendid determination to uphold the honor of the American flag. Leary's friends say that he has not so much as a piece of paper to show from the Navy Department that he ever stood up for the honor of the flag in so signal a manner in Samoa. Congress passes votes of thanks to men who are conspicuous in saving life on the high seas. Congress never passed a vote of thanks to Leary. I need not go into the reasons for this apparent neglect. If republics are ungrateful, it may be said that Leary never asked for any such action, nor even desired it. He had performed his sworn duty, and that was sufficient for him. He was probably the youngest officer in the navy ever called upon to perform such a responsible task, and if there seemed to be envy on the part of those older and of higher rank in the service, "Dick" Leary went his way modestly, and asked for no public recognition of his services.

His native State, however, Maryland, could not let such a display of patriotism go unrewarded, and the Legislature voted him a handsome gold watch. It was presented to him in the presence of a brilliant company at the State Capitol. The national government kept silent officially, however, and that silence has never been broken.

Leary probably cares least of all for this apparent oversight. It has been given to few officers in the American navy to write,

"I am here for the purpose of protecting the same." (American property.)

That is Leary's reward. It is enough for him to know that he did his duty, and that the people respect him for it. As Americans, we are proud of certain sentiments uttered by those who have worn our country's uniform in time of war. "Don't give up the ship!" still rings in the ears of all patriotic citizens. "If any man hauls down the flag, shoot him on the spot!" still inspires and thrills us. With these, and other sentiments like them, I wish to write Leary's declaration,

"I am here for the purpose of protecting the same."

## WOOD-CARVING.

### BY J. HARRY ADAMS.

A knowledge of drawing and modelling will be very helpful to the young carver, as the outline of ornament can be readily drawn, while to carve objects from wood the art of modelling form is most desirable and essential to obtain a satisfactory result.

If the beginner possesses a knowledge of form acquired by drawing and modelling, then the art of wood-carving can be readily and quickly mastered; but even if these advantages should be lacking, it is possible that considerable progress can be made by those who will follow the instructions given on these pages.

The most important feature of carving is the ability to sharpen and maintain the little tools, and when this is mastered, more than half the difficulty has been overcome. Carving-tools can be purchased at most any large hardware store, and as there are a great many shapes and styles of edges to select from, a few suggestions will give a clear idea of necessary ones to begin with.

At the start a numerous assortment of tools will not be necessary, as the flat-work will meet with the best success at the hands of the beginner. Six or eight chisels will constitute a good set, and those shown in Fig. 3 will answer very well.

No. 1 is a plain flat chisel with a straight edge, commonly called a firmer. No. 2 is a flat one also, with an angle or oblique edge, and commonly called a skew firmer. Nos. 3 and 4 are flat and extra flat gouges, while No. 5 is an ordinary gouge with a half-circular sweep. No. 6 is a grounder, or bent back ground tool, and is very useful for reaching when a flat tool cannot. No. 7 is a "quick gouge," in the form of a U, and No. 8 is a V gouge, a very handy tool for cutting the veins in leaves and in "chip-carving."

A flannel or felt case should be made for the tools, so[Pg 367] they may be kept nicely. The case can be made to roll up, and provided with pockets into which the tools are slipped.

The stones needed on which to sharpen the tools will be an ordinary flat oil-stone, and two Turkey or Arkansas slips six or eight inches long, having the shape of those shown in Fig. 2, A and B. C is the flat stone, and every boy who carries a good pocket-knife should be provided with one on which to sharpen the blades.

The other tools necessary to complete the kit will be several clamps similar to the one shown in Fig. 2; also a glue-pot, and a fret-saw like the one depicted in Fig. 2.

The boy who possesses a bracket or jig saw, however, will not need the fret-saw, as more and better work can be done with it than with the hand affair.

A carver's bench on which to work is of course the greatest necessity; but if it is not possible to get one, a good wooden-top kitchen table will answer very well.

The proper kind of a bench gives greater facility for working; it is more convenient and solid, and as the height is better than that of an ordinary table, the carver works under more pleasant conditions.

FIG. 1.—A DESIGN FOR WOOD-CARVING.

The boy who is handy with tools can make a good bench in a short time, and the design of one is shown in Fig. 5 that can easily be made from wood of the necessary kind that is free from knots and sappy places. The top should measure four feet long, two feet wide, and should be one inch and a half in thickness; it can be of yellow pine, ash, or oak, and the wood must be well seasoned. The framework must be well made, and the cross-pieces and braces securely mortised together, or firmly screwed to the uprights or legs, which can be of yellow pine or ash two inches square.

The top of the bench should be three feet and three inches high from the floor; and to one side of the bench a carpenter's vise may be attached, as shown in the figure.

The first essential to good clean cutting is that the tools shall be absolutely sharp and in a workmanlike condition. It is often the case that amateurs' tools are in such a state that no professional carver could produce satisfactory results, so that in every instance the condition of the tools governs the finished work.

FIG. 2.—CLAMP, SAW, AND CHISEL STONES.

The variety of carving-tools is so limited, that if the difficulties of sharpening a firmer and gouge are mastered, the task is practically ended.

If the tools should be unusually dull, they must first be ground on a grindstone. It should be remembered that carvers' tools are sharpened on both sides, and not only on one, like the carpenters' chisels. After grinding, the tools must be sharpened on the oil-stone or slips before they are ready for use. The firmers can be sharpened on the oil-stone laid flat on the bench, but the gouges must be held in the hand in order to sharpen the inside curve with a slip. The outer curve can be sharpened on the flat oil-stone.

Great care must be taken to give the tools a finished and smooth edge, and when they have reached the proper degree of sharpness it will be an easy matter to cut across the grain of white pine, leaving a furrow that is very smooth and almost polished.

In the use of the oil-stone and slips, neat's-foot oil or a good thin machine oil should be employed. Water must not be used, as it would spoil the stones and not produce the sharp edge on the tools.

The finest stones are the best for use, and although they take longer to produce the keen edge, the sharpest tools are made with them, and they will be found the most satisfactory in the end. Avoid grit and dust on the stones, and before using them they should be wiped off with an oiled rag.

For gouges of the various sweeps the slip shown in Fig. 2A will be necessary, but for the V gouges the triangular one, Fig. 2B, is the right one to use. The stone, Fig. 2C, can be used to sharpen the firmers.

The beginner must not consider any pains too great to make himself a thorough master of the tools, and to keep a perfect edge on all of them. It is necessary, when using them, to exercise care to prevent any unpleasant cut that would be the result of carelessness. Undivided attention and a little common-sense are necessary at all times.

FIG. 3.—CHISELS.

The tools being in proper condition, the next step is to acquire a knowledge of the best methods of handling them so as to produce any desired result. It will require some time and practice to become thoroughly familiar with the manner in which tools are handled, and, if it is possible, it would be well to watch some carver at work. The chisels should always be held with one hand on the handle and two fingers of the other hand near the edge of the tool. This is to give sufficient pressure at the end to keep it down to the wood, while the hand on the handle gives the necessary push to make the tool cut.

Of the woods that are adapted to carve in there are[Pg 368] a great many, but perhaps yellow pine, walnut, or mahogany will be found most desirable, as they are easily cut, and do not split as some of the softer and harder woods.

To begin with, it is best to work out a simple pattern that can be followed easily and without a great deal of dexterity in handling the tools. Get a piece of yellow pine one inch thick, eight inches wide, and sixteen long.

On a piece of smooth paper draw one-half of a pattern similar to the one shown in Fig. 4, and on a piece of tracing-paper copy the design. Over the face of the wood lay a sheet of transfer-paper with the black surface down, and on it the tracing-paper, and go over all the lines with a lead-pencil, bearing down on the point so that the lines will be transferred to the wood. Repeat it at the other end, so that as a result the piece of wood will have the pattern.

To one corner of the bench clamp the piece of wood with three or four of the clamps shown in Fig. 2. Do not place the clamp directly on the wood, but place between the jaw and the pine a piece of heavy card-board or another piece of thin wood, to prevent the clamp from bruising the surface of the yellow pine. With a small wooden mallet and a firmer chisel begin to cut down into the face of the wood on the lines until they have all been cut. Then with the gouges and grounding tool cut away the surface not a part of the pattern to a depth of an eighth of an inch or more, until a result is obtained similar to that shown in the second cut of Fig. 4.

FIG. 4.—A SAMPLE Of WOOD-CARVING.
1. The Drawn Design. 2. The Preliminary Stage. 3. The Finished Carving.

The entire design and edge will now be in relief, but its surface will be flat and entirely void of any "feeling." With the flat, extra flat, and plain gouges begin to carve some life in the ornament. A little practice will soon enable you to observe which parts should be high, the others that should be low, and the surfaces that can be left neutral or between high and low relief.

This part of carving is termed "life," or "feeling," and it is this quality that lends the beauty to the finest wood-carvings. The work when completed should have the appearance of the third cut in Fig. 4, and if nicely done it should be a credit to any beginner. The effect of this panel can be had also by applied carving, which is a very simple and less tedious process.

The design is transferred to a thin piece of wood, and cut out with the fret or jig saw. The pieces are then glued in position on a thick piece of wood, and the feeling carved in a similar manner as described. The former method is called carving in the solid, while the latter is known as applied carving.

Such pieces of carving can be used as panels to small drawers, to cabinets, and to form the sides and covers of useful little boxes, etc. If these simple suggestions are carefully followed, the inventive boy should be able to design some very pretty patterns that can be carved nicely in any desirable wood that is not too hard.

When flat, or relief, carving has been mastered, it would be well to attempt something in figure or bold work, such as animals, fruit, or heads, on all sides of which some careful study and good work can be done. It will be some time, however, before the amateur can successfully accomplish good results, so that for some time the flat-work should be practised, and as improvement is noticed the ornament can be undercut to lend it a richness and boldness.

Chip-carving, or engraving, is a simple but effective manner of ornamenting flat surfaces, and some very pretty results can be obtained in a little while with the gouges and V tools, also the spade chisel and veiner. There is no grounding out in chip-carving, as the pattern is produced by chipping out the figure itself.

Fig. 1 is a simple pattern of a vine and leaves; the stem is engraved with the V chisel, and with a small firmer the leaves are cut. Two curved incisions will cut the leaf, and the angle through the centre describes the main vein. The chipping can be shallow or deep, as a matter of choice, but more effect can be had by cutting fairly deep.

To finish wood-work in most any color, it is possible to obtain stains at a paint or hardware store, and over the stained surface, when dry, several thin coats of hard oil or furniture varnish can be applied. The back and edges of a carved panel should always be painted to protect it from moisture and dampness, and in this manner warping and splitting are avoided. Some pieces of carving only need oiling with raw linseed oil, while others may be varnished. A favorite mode of darkening oak in France and England before it is varnished is to expose it to the fumes of ammonia, or to paint ammonia on with a brush until the desired antique shade is obtained; this, however, is not so satisfactory as the colors resulting from the use of prepared stains that can be purchased.

FIG. 5.—A PRACTICAL WORKBENCH.

[Pg 369]

Although golf has been played for several years at Lawrenceville, it is only within the past year that the game has established itself on an equal footing of popularity with the other sports of the school. As soon as the students' interest in the game became apparent, however, the authorities, following their custom with regard to all departments of the school, engaged an instructor to take charge of those who desired to become proficient. They secured the services of Mr. James Swan, who was superintendent at the St. Andrew's Club last year and at the Shinnecock Club the year before. His first work on going to Lawrenceville was to select a site for the course and to lay out links.

As there are over two hundred acres in the school property, he was able to take up some thirty or forty acres directly north of the school buildings for this purpose, and when the course has been completely arranged, it will doubtless be one of the best short courses in the country. At present there have been only six holes laid out, although probably next year this number will be increased to nine. For the requirements of the players now, however, these links give just about the amount of ground that can be covered in the afternoon from the close of school exercises until the recreation hour ends.

At Lawrenceville every student is required to devote a certain time each day to out-door exercise, and each boy is allowed to choose the sport that suits him best. About one hundred have decided to play golf in preference to other required exercise, and already some of them have developed good form, notably Griggs, Drake, Childs, Hutchings, and Little. Doubtless one of the reasons for this favorable development is that the players are required to study the rules carefully, and each one follows the game under the supervision of the instructor, who allows no loose form or slouch play.

### THE LAWRENCEVILLE GOLF LINKS.

ONE STROKE FROM THE FIFTH HOLE.
AT THE FIRST HOLE.

The start of the course, as it is at present laid out, is made from the first tee over comparatively level ground for 175 yards, starting near the fence that divides the central school property from the land which lies north of it.[Pg 370] The barbed-wire fence which crosses this links forms an undesirable obstacle, but it will be removed in the spring and replaced by a short bunker.

The second tee begins the next link in a northerly direction, in a parallel line with the country road, or the Old King's Highway. This road is the one which was traversed for several decades by the mail-stages from New York to Washington. The ground sinks some eight feet at a distance of 140 yards in this second link of 304 yards, ending with a running brook some nine feet wide. The ground from the brook to the second hole rises slightly.

From the third tee to the third hole, a distance of 282 yards, the ground falls and rises considerably, the brook in this link proving a difficult hazard, as the south side of the bank is several feet higher than the north side. The rise from the brook to the third hole is but a light one. From the fourth tee to the fourth hole, 187 yards, the drive is comparatively good, the brook proving an insignificant hazard to the good driver, but a troublesome one to the beginner who, "topping" the ball, finds that here, as perhaps at no other part in the course, a resort must be made to "dropping" the ball. Indeed to the novice the fourth hole is a trial to the temper.

THE LAWRENCEVILLE SCHOOL GOLF LINKS.

To the right of the third hole stands a farm-house; the course leading to the fourth hole might be across the miniature pond indicated in the plot plan. The ground falls gradually to the brook from the fifth tee, 241 yards, and beyond the brook the ground rises abruptly some 15 feet. The last link, 326 yards long, is the longest in the course, and is one of the most trying. At present it leads over a low hay-stack, which will be removed shortly, and before the hole is reached a bunker must be encountered. The fields are traversed pretty completely in making the course, 1¼ miles in length, and the sixth hole brings the player almost home.

The course has been made several times by the instructor in 27 strokes, and a few of the better players among the boys in 36 strokes, Griggs in 29. The majority of the boys, however, content themselves with some number between 40 and 50. In the course of a few months some twenty or thirty of the boys will be singled out and given more specific instructions, so that the tournaments to be held in the spring may be well played.

The announcement which came to us from New Haven some few days since, that the Hillhouse High-School would not put a track-athletic team into the field this year, brings up the question again of uniting the various athletic associations of the State. The football association of the Connecticut schools is a different organization from the track-athletic association, although both are made up of about the same schools. The football association is financially prosperous—in fact it came out some $400 to the good this year after paying all expenses, and this money is now doubtless drawing interest in the savings-bank.

The track-athletic association, however, is not so great a success from a financial point of view, and is now in debt, or, if not, it has been until very recently. This state of affairs is probably due to the fact that the expenses of a track-athletic meeting are heavy, and there is only one meeting a year, to which the small admission-fees charged are not sufficient to defray all the expenses.

On the other hand, there is a great popular interest in football in Connecticut, and the money contributed by spectators at the principal championship games is very much in excess of the requirements of the association. Perhaps, too, so far as track athletics are concerned, there has been a little mismanagement. The spring games of 1895 were very successfully managed, and proved a financial success, but the association was in heavy debt previous to that date, and the profits of 1895 went to make good some of the deficiencies of previous occasions.

In 1896, however, the managers of the games were incompetent, and the meeting proved a financial failure. The games were not properly advertised in New Haven, where they were held, and on the day of the meeting there were more spectators present from Hartford than there were from the home city. Furthermore, the managers were extravagant in the purchase of prize cups, and when they came to figure up their accounts there was a deficit.

It is the belief among a number of the young men interested in track athletics in Connecticut that if the track-athletic meetings cannot be conducted at a profit, they ought certainly, by good management, to be conducted without loss. It has been suggested that instead of having a football association, a track-athletic association, a baseball association, and perhaps other athletic organizations, it would be the better plan to have a single association that would govern all interscholastic sports in the State. The managers of this association would be the managers of each sport as it came up with the season, and the treasurer of the association would be responsible for all the moneys received and disbursed.

Thus if there was a profit from football, that profit could go to the assistance of any deficit there might be in track athletics. At the larger colleges this plan of uniting all branches of athletics under one financial management has been found to be the best plan, for in sport there must always be one branch that is self-supporting while another is not.

Furthermore this plan of uniting all school sports under one financial management in Connecticut would solve the problem of what to do with the surplus in the treasury at the end of the football season. It would seem that, knowing there was a deficit in the track-athletic treasury, the officials of the football association would have turned over from their surplus the amount necessary to make good[Pg 371] the shortage. It is to be hoped that the desire of those who wish to unite all sports under one head will be carried out, for it would be to the benefit of athletics in Connecticut.

The Hartford High-School will have three representatives at the Knickerbocker A.C. games next month. F. R. Sturtevant will enter the high jump. He won the event last year with 5 ft. 7½ in. He will also enter the pole-vault. His record in this event is 10 ft. 5 in. J. F. Morris will enter the 100, 220, and 440 yard dashes. He has run the 100 in 10½ sec.; the 220 in 23-3/5 sec.; the 440 in 52-4/5 sec. C. A. Roberts will enter the walk. He is an unknown quantity.

The Board of Education of Chicago seems to be taking a hand in athletics, so far as the high-schools of that city are concerned. A rule has been passed which makes it necessary for the Cook County athletes to work hard at their lessons. No scholar at any of the high-schools who is not a regular student taking a regular course may represent his school in any athletic event. The principal of the school is required to sign a voucher certifying to these facts, and it is also required of him to see that no pupil lets his marks fall below a certain average, the penalty for this being that he must give up athletics until his school work is brought up to the required standard.

There is a lull in athletics among the Chicago schools just at present—the quiet before the storm, most likely. The in-door baseball games do not seem to be getting along very prosperously, and there is considerable opposition to them among some of the students, on the ground that an admission-fee is charged. Lake View High-School still leads for the championship, having won every game played, with Austin second.

There has been a protest game, of course. It was in the match between North Division and Evanston. In the last half of the ninth inning North Division was at the bat, with the score 7-9 in favor of Evanston. The crowd that was looking on got in pretty close to the Evanston fielders, who claimed that this prevented them from doing their proper and necessary work. The Evanston captain protested against the crowding, but as this had no effect with the on-lookers he left the floor with his team.

The matter was of course brought up at the next League meeting, but the executive committee decided that Evanston was in the wrong, gave the game to North Division, and legislated that in the future any nine that left the floor should forfeit the game to the opponents.

The Long Island Interscholastic Athletic League has decided to hold the first annual skating championships of the organization at the Clermont Avenue Ice-Skating Rink, on Clermont Avenue near Myrtle, Brooklyn. J. A. Forney, of Adelphi Academy, has been appointed to ascertain upon what conditions the Rink may be had for the races, which will probably be held the last week of this month.

The in-door games of the Long Island Interscholastic League will be held on February 20 at the Cycle Club, Brooklyn. There will be ten events contested, and among them one of those precious events for "juniors."

The basket ball championship series has already begun, and the schedule will be played out as follows:

> Feb. 5. Poly. Prep. vs. Pratt Institute, and Adelphi Academy vs. Brooklyn High-School.

> Feb. 12. Brooklyn High-School vs. Poly. Prep., and Pratt Institute vs. Brooklyn Latin School.

> Feb. 19. Poly. Prep. vs. Brooklyn Latin School, and Adelphi Academy vs. Pratt Institute.

> Feb. 26. Adelphi Academy vs. Brooklyn Latin School, and Brooklyn High-School vs. Pratt Institute.

> March 2. Brooklyn High-School vs. Brooklyn Latin School, and Adelphi Academy vs. Poly. Prep.

Arrangements for the track meeting between Lawrenceville and the Hill School are about to be completed, and it is sincerely to be hoped that whatever arrangements are made will be carried out. Last year the meeting that was proposed, and the league of big schools in New Jersey and Pennsylvania, never came to anything; but as sport advances all these plans will doubtless be carried through, and a strong organization ought to grow out of them.

#### "TRACK ATHLETICS IN DETAIL."—Illustrated.—8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

The Graduate.

### A CURIOSITY OF LITERATURE.

John Heywood, the playwright and epigrammatist, was patronized by Henry VIII. and Elizabeth. "What the 'Faery Queen,'" says Warton, "could not procure for Spenser from the penurious Elizabeth and her precise ministers, Heywood gained by puns and conceits." The object of one of his books, as disclosed by the title-page, is singular: "A Dialogue, containing in effect the Number of all the Proverbs in the English Tongue, compact in a Matter concerning Two Marriages."

When the Marquis of Winchester, Lord High Treasurer, was presented with a copy of this book by the author, he inquired what it contained, and being answered, "All the proverbs in English," replied, "What! all? No, no. 'Bate me an ace, quoth Bolton'"—a form of speech once much in vogue. "By my faith," said Heywood, "that is not in."

It happened that the marquis casually uttered the only proverb not in the book.

Camden mentions an interview of Heywood with Queen Mary, at which her Majesty inquired what wind blew him to court. He answered, "Two, specially—the one to see your Majesty."

"We thank you for that," said the Queen; "but I pray you, what is the other?"

"That your Grace," said he, "might see me."

The curious work on proverbs is in rhyme, and contains many sayings that are now forgotten, as well as allusions to superstitions still remaining.

### ENGLISH AND ENGLISH.

Most American boys and girls feel confident that they are tolerably familiar with the English language, and they are right in so feeling; but sometimes one cannot but wonder, in reading over the English newspapers, whether some expressions which are common enough to the English mind would prove puzzling to the American reader or not. For instance, here is a specimen paragraph from the Western Morning News, published in England:

"An Extraordinary Express.—The Cornish corridor express from Paddington, on the morning of the 31st ult., was one of the heaviest fast trains ever sent out of a London terminus. It started with 15 eight-wheel bogie coaches on, reckoned as equal to 22½ ordinary vehicles. But as these corridor carriages weigh about 25 tons each, the coach load must have been over 370 tons, or quite equal to a train of 30 six-wheeled coaches. This for an express run at over 53 miles an hour! There were two engines on of the largest class. West of Swindon the train was split into two parts."

How many of us know what a "corridor express" is? or who can guess the meaning of the term "bogie coach"? and to how many of us, indeed, is the word "coach" a natural expression for car? and, finally, when a train or anything else is "split" into two parts, does not the expression convey to our minds something divided from end to end longitudinally, and not cut in two? After all, the English spoken in one place differs largely from the English spoken elsewhere, and probably ours is as good as that of any one else.

## ADVERTISEMENTS.

Celebrated for its great leavening strength and healthfulness. Assures the food against alum and all forms of adulteration common to the cheap brands.

#### ROYAL BAKING POWDER CO., NEW YORK.

[Pg 372]

## QUESTIONS FOR YOUNG MEN.

### ON KEEPING YOUR OWN COUNSEL.

It is an old saying among schoolboys and college men that the fellow who keeps his mouth shut is always the big man; that he who deliberately says little quickly wins for himself the name for wisdom. Such statements are quite as true in the outer world to a certain degree as they are in college and school. The pith of the matter is that if in any way you arrive at a position of any importance, the less you talk to every one the more credit you receive for care, for thoughtfulness, for sound well-considered opinions. Here is nothing which urges a boy to have no opinions or to never express them; and in fact this "wise silence" at school and college as often, perhaps, covers up an empty mind as it does the wisdom of Solomon. There is, however, a good rule to follow, which may be given briefly, to the effect that it is well to say little until you have thoroughly made up your mind, and then not to hesitate in your statements. The temptation of the average man is to express some opinion at once, but if that is changed later, the full force of the final opinion is lost.

Let others do the wrangling. Your opinion will have all the more influence if you come out strong with it at the close of the discussion, when not only are the others considerably in doubt as to what they do want, but you have also had the advantage of hearing many sides of the case.

That is to say, that in your daily behavior towards the others in school it is well to keep your "talk" in reserve. It is a habit easily acquired, and one that in the end works both ways. It adds both to the value of your advice, because the advice is better considered, and it gives the advice an added value so far as others are concerned, because when you only say a little, that little has the more consideration.

In the course of athletic games there are two ways of treating friends and opponents. One way is as easy as another, for both are merely habits. Many a good chap at baseball or football is constantly grumbling whenever the umpire or referee gives a decision. He objects to the decision on principle; he goes back to his place in the field criticising the partisanship of the official, and makes himself uncomfortable as well as disagreeable to the umpires and the other teams. If this young man should be asked some day—off the field, of course—whether it were sportsmanlike to criticise in the midst of a game an umpire properly chosen, he would, no doubt, maintain in strong terms that such criticism was the most unsportsmanlike thing possible, and then he would promptly deny that he ever made such criticism. Yet there are many such, and it is unfortunately one of the most common sights on a school athletic field to-day to find the two teams wrangling with the umpire over a decision he has made, and this, too, after he has been asked ten minutes before to decide all such questions for them. It is only another form of the same lack of habit in courteous behavior, and it causes most of the hard feeling between schools and colleges to-day.

So one might go on by the hour speaking of the different questions in school and college life which are examples of lack of behavior of the most ordinary kind, but the root of the matter is that each boy should say to himself that he will be constantly reserved, that he will wait for the proper moment to speak and act, and that he will then act vigorously if he is convinced the time has come.

### A BLOCKADE VENTURE.

During the blockade of Buenos Ayres a clipper bark laden with flour was fitted out at Boston with the express purpose of running in. The late Augustus Hemenway was her supercargo. After a tedious voyage she arrived off Buenos Ayres, and found the blockade too close to run in, and was compelled to cruise off and on, waiting for a change in her favor. While thus lazily reconnoitring, she spoke a vessel from Valparaiso, which reported a famine there. Mr. Hemenway at once decided to try Valparaiso. The Captain hesitated; he said his vessel was not adapted to double Cape Horn in the dead of winter; but young Hemenway assumed the entire responsibility, and the Captain yielded. She had a favorable slant round the Horn, and reached Valparaiso in safety, where her cargo was sold at high prices. The Chilians were so grateful for the timely relief that they loaded the bark as deep as she could safely swim with copper ore, and all concerned in the venture made a fortune. Later, Mr. Hemenway opened a trade with Valparaiso in copper, wool, nitrate, etc., by which he became one of the richest men in Boston.

### DAYBREAK.

When the sunlight peeps in through the curtains at dawn,
His Highness awakes with a smile and a yawn,
And his little fat hands fly up in the air,
Out of whole-souled delight that a new day is there.
He laughs to himself and he churns his pink heels,
He gurgles and chirps at the pleasure he feels,
And he looks with dismay at the big folk near by
Who sleep while the daylight is kissing the sky.
The sight of a sunbeam is thrilling and new;
The big folk are missing it—that will not do!
Awake, oh, good people, awake to the sight!
Come out of your pillows, 'tis no longer night!
See what a wonderful broad streak of gold
Has come through the window! Arise and behold
A slice of the dawn dancing over the floor!
Was ever so glorious a vision before?
But the elders, to whom the awakening of day
Is old as their memories, turn blindly away,
And his Highness is left, with the birds of the trees,
To carol his joy at the new life he sees.
Albert Lee.

### CAPTAIN HEARD'S EXPLOIT WITH A PRIVATEER.

The speed of the Baltimore clippers in days gone by made history redound with their exploits. Every boy and girl has read at some time or place of the piratical long, low, rakish-looking schooners that cruised the ocean ostensibly as privateers, but chiefly as pirates, in those days, and have marvelled more or less at their astounding adventures. A good story is told of the late Captain Augustine Heard, that while in command of a fine ship richly laden, bound from China to New York, he was overhauled by one of this kind, which came up under his lee, fired a shot into his ship, and demanded in "good English" that she should be hove to. Captain Heard watched a favorable opportunity, squared his yards, ran the privateer down, passed over her between the masts, and when well to leeward brought his ship to the wind and resumed his course. She had lost some of her head-gear, but sustained no damage in her hull. Captain Heard left the "long, low, black privateer," or pirate, to her fate, and had no doubt that all her crew perished.

It was a dangerous thing to do, but Heard relied upon the good timber in his ship's bows to withstand the shock, although his heart grew sad at the loss of life. Still, as he put it, "My honor and life were at stake, so he had to go under."

[Pg 373]

> This Department is conducted in the interest of stamp and coin collectors, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on these subjects so far as possible. Correspondents should address Editor Stamp Department.

Another No. 89 Plate No. has been found, and is now offered at $100. There may be a lot of this No. at some small post-office, as the larger offices do not seem to have received any of this particular No.

During the past month the stamp business has begun to revive, and there are indications that better prices will be obtained in the auction-room than in the past three months. The main difficulty seems to lie in the fact that there are seemingly as many dealers as collectors. Years ago the New York city stamp business was practically in the hands of two or three men, while to-day Nassau Street and Twenty-third Street are overflowing with dealers. Some of these dealers have entered into an engagement with each other not to buy at auctions. If they keep to their word so much the better for the collectors.

Guatemala has just issued a new set of fourteen adhesive stamps, five postal cards, two envelopes, and one wrapper. The stamps are all printed in black on colored papers. The size is about that of our Columbian issue, and the entire set is made to commemorate and advertise the Central American Exposition to be held this year.

1 | centavo | Black on lilac.
2 | centavos | Black on olive.
6 | centavos | Black on ochre.
10 | centavos | Black on indigo.
12 | centavos | Black on rose.
20 | centavos | Black on vermilion.
50 | centavos | Black on brown.
75 | centavos | Black on blue.
100 | centavos | Black on blue-green.
150 | centavos | Black on light rose
200 | centavos | Black on mauve.
500 | centavos | Black on yellow-green.

The probabilities are that the entire issue will be condemned by the S.S.S.S.

The American Bank-Note Company of New York has just secured the contract for printing the Canadian stamps. It is said that the cost of printing will be about $600,000 for the five and a half years, and that the saving to the Canadian government compared with late contracts will be $125,000.

> B. B. Perkins.—I would advise your buying a packet of 1000 stamps for $10, or 1500 stamps for $25. If you intend to collect certain countries only, such packets would not serve your purpose.

> Beatrice Fink.—Tromsö stamps are locals from Norway. Wuhu is a Chinese local. Poste-Locale, 40 paras, is a Turkish local.

> Beverly S. King, 31 New York Ave., Brooklyn, wishes to exchange stamps. Refer to your catalogue for the number of stamps issued by U.S., Great Britain, France, etc. A "complete" collection of stamps is a very vague quantity. I know one collection of Great Britain containing many thousands of stamps, no two alike, and yet the owner says he has just begun to collect Great Britain.

> D. McPherson.—The unused Department stamps are higher than the used simply on account of the demand for unused stamps. The amount of money proposed by you will buy you very many good stamps, and ensure many hours of enjoyment, and that is the best investment.

> W. R. Wheeler.—Before postage-stamps were used the postmaster used to print with an iron or copper hand-stamp "Paid," "Paid 10," etc. Envelopes with such printing are very common, and while very interesting have no money value.

Philatus.

Reject all compounds which dispense
With honest work and common sense;
With Ivory Soap the wash is good
And takes no longer than it should.

Copyright 1896, by The Procter & Gamble Co., Cin'ti

#### READY FEBRUARY 11

## By Ellen Douglas Deland

### IN THE OLD HERRICK HOUSE, and Other Stories. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.50.

> Besides the title story, this volume contains "At the Camerons'" and "The Little Red Book." Like all of Miss Deland's stories, these are wholesome and attractive, while there is an abundance of incident.

## By Charles Carleton Coffin

### ABRAHAM LINCOLN.

Profusely Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, $3.00.

> All the best characteristics of the author are found in his last work, "Abraham Lincoln"; his brilliant power of revivifying the past, his skill in interweaving anecdote with narrative, his ability to present characters without dull description, are placed at their best use in sketching the life and times of the nation's hero.—Boston Journal.

OLD TIMES IN THE COLONIES. Profusely Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, $3.00.

THE BOYS OF '76. A History of the Battles of the Revolution. Profusely Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, $3.00.

BUILDING THE NATION. Events in the History of the United States from the Revolution to the Civil War. Profusely Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, $3.00.

THE DRUM-BEAT OF THE NATION. The First Period of the War of the Rebellion, from its Outbreak to the Close of 1862. Profusely Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, $3.00.

MARCHING TO VICTORY. The Second Period of the War of the Rebellion, including the Year 1863. Profusely Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, $3.00.

REDEEMING THE REPUBLIC. The Third Period of the War of the Rebellion, to September, 1864. Profusely Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, $3.00.

FREEDOM TRIUMPHANT. The Fourth Period of the War of the Rebellion, from September, 1864, to its Close. Profusely Illustrated. Square 8vo, Cloth, $3.00.

#### Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York

[Pg 374]

### A Great Soldier's Amusing Experience.

Some letters of Count Von Moltke, long at the head of the German army, and the man who took the German thousands and made of them the greatest engine of war the world ever saw, are now being published for the first time. In one of them he tells of a visit he made to London as a young soldier, when, during a review in fashionable Hyde Park, he tried to appear to his best advantage. The Count thus describes his experience:

"The Lord in His wrath made the Duke of Wellington Master of the Horse; he understood nothing about horses, so he provided me with an animal that had won at the last races. I never rode a more uncomfortable one; likely enough that he had never been ridden before except by a jockey; or my light overcoat so tickled his back that he bucked the whole time, and bored as well..... To make it perfect, one of my trouser straps burst. I had to manœuvre with the utmost circumspection, and am thankful to have got out of it so passably."

### A Far-West Fishing Village.

> Skamokana is a little town on the banks of the Columbia River, about twenty-eight miles from its mouth. The place is divided into three valleys, east, west, and middle. The principal industries are fishing, logging, and farming. The fishing season begins about the 10th of April and ends about the 10th of August. The fish are caught in gill-nets, seines, and fish-traps. There are streams in the valleys where mountain-trout are caught.

> It is very pleasant here in the summer, but it rains nearly all winter. There are a great many salmon-canneries on the river. In the summer we find a great many mosses and ferns. There is some pretty scenery in the town. There are two bluffs seventy feet high. At the bottom of the bluffs runs a creek. The bluffs are covered with mosses and ferns. Part of the town is built on an island. The island and the mainland are connected. Part of this island is covered with sawdust from the mill.

Esther Silverman.
Skamokana, Wash.

### Great Caution, and the Lack of It.

Almost everybody has heard of the woman who, when her bed took fire, refrained from throwing upon it the milk in a pitcher which stood near by, because, as she explained, the milk would grease the bedroom floor. So she lost her house and its contents, but she didn't grease the floor.

A farmer living in West Virginia had a hog afflicted with fleas. Some one told him that kerosene oil would drive them away. It was night when he returned home, but he resolved to put the prescription to the test at once. Taking a torch out to the pen, he stuck it in the ground while he poured the oil over the pig. The animal did not relish the treatment. He ran squealing away, and of course ran near the torch. The oil took fire and the pig ran to the barn. That ignited, and the pig, crazed with pain, rushed toward the house, pushed the wood-shed door open, and brought up in the kitchen. Pig, barn, and house were ashes before daylight.

### A Peep at a Queer City.

> New Orleans is, I think, entirely different from any other city in the United States. You see things here that you see nowhere else, and you hear things on the street that you hear nowhere else. French is heard oftener than English, and Spanish and Italian are spoken a great deal, as a large percentage of the population is made up of these nationalities. The old French people, and a mixture of French and Spanish, represent the aristocracy of New Orleans, and are known as "Creoles." But these have degenerated to some extent, and the younger generation of Creoles, especially the men, are said to be lazy and worthless.

> Canal Street, the principal retail shopping street of the city, forms the dividing line between the French and English portions, and I may venture to say, on good authority, that some of the old French Indies have never crossed Canal Street to penetrate into the English part of the city.

> One of the first things a visitor goes to see is the old French Market on the river front. This is interesting to a stranger, but years ago it was even more so. The thing that strikes you most is the dirt, which is in great abundance; but you will find that most anywhere in New Orleans, although they are trying to improve it. Everybody that goes to the French Market gets a cup of coffee and a doughnut, commonly known as a "sinker," on account of its great solidity. Frenchmen, Italians or "dagos," old black mammies with their heads done up in bright bandannas, Indian women with herbs and bright baskets for sale—these and many others you see in the old market. A short distance from it are the historic Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral, one of the oldest churches in the United States. Jackson Square has beautiful flowers in it the year round, and a fine equestrian statue of Andrew Jackson graces the centre. I have never been in the cathedral except during service, but I know there are some beautiful pictures there which time has not spoiled, but rather increased the interest one always feels for such things.

> The winters here are what makes New Orleans so attractive to many people, and they certainly are delightful. It is a customary thing to see roses in great abundance, beautiful green lawns, and a great many flowers in bloom the entire year; but they don't do so well in summer—it is too hot.

> A drive along the principal residence street, St. Charles Avenue, is very delightful on a bright winter morning, for there are so many handsome houses, and they all have gardens beautifully kept. That is a good thing about New Orleans. There is plenty of air; each house has some yard; they are not close together as in other cities. In my next morsel I will tell you about Mardi Gras. Shall I describe a sugar plantation for you?

Sophie Eleanor Clark.

Yes, please do.

### Grave of a Faithful Itinerant.

> Perhaps Round Table readers would like to hear about the grave of William Watters, the first native American Methodist minister. This grave is in Fairfax County, Virginia, six miles from Washington, in an old graveyard. The monument is a simple veined marble shaft about seven feet high, with these inscriptions:

In Memory of

Rev. William Watters

The First Native Itinerant

Methodist Preacher in

America

Born Oct. 16, 1751

Died Mar. 29, 1827

He was a pioneer leading

the way for the vast army of

American Methodist Itinerants

having the Everlasting

Gospel to preach.

Fervent in spirit, prudent

in council, abundant in

labors, skillful in winning

souls, he was a workman that

needed not to be ashamed.

Also His Wife

Sarah Adams.

Erected by the Virginia

Conference of

The Methodist Episcopal

Church.

> This was not the minister's home. He was on his way from North Carolina to Baltimore when he died. The monument was not erected until years after.

Dorothea F. Sherman, R.T.L.
Ash Grove, Va.

### Omens Common in Virginia.

> Three white frosts in succession, a sure sign of rain.

> When the crescent is on her back it never rains.

> When there is a small circle around the moon, rain is not far off; a large circle, no rain.

> When the wild-ducks fly overhead it is a sure sign of cold weather.

> Show your money to the new moon, and it will surely increase.

> Spill salt, lend it out, or give away parsely plants, is very bad luck.

> Break a looking-glass and you will have seven years of bad luck.

> If you fall up the stairs you will not be married that year.

> Never move on Saturday: "A Saturday's flit is a short sit."

> A strange black cat coming to you will bring luck.

> When the smoke descends, it is sure to rain.

> Never hang a horseshoe this way, (upside down U), as your luck will run out. It should be put up the other way—U.

> The best one I know is an old Scotch saying:

> "Luck is with the Lord; belief, with the people."

John R. Moreland, R.T.F.
Norfolk.

### Cracking Walnuts.

> Select a hard table or flat-iron, placing the nuts near by. If you look at the nut carefully, you will find a slightly raised ridge running around the nut. Place the nut on its side, holding it firmly. Strike upon the ridge with a heavy hammer with short even blows until cracked. Fresh nuts are the best for both cracking and eating.

H. H. W.
Detroit.

### Questions and Answers.

Wilton, Ct., asked about Greek in Barnard College, and Registrar N. W. Liggett, of Barnard, replies as follows:

At the present writing Greek is absolutely essential for entrance to the undergraduate department of Barnard College, and, after entrance, to the completion of the Freshman year. In and after October, 1897, Greek will no longer be required for entrance, other subjects being permitted as a substitute, and it will then no longer be compulsory during the course.

Arthur L. Flagg, 34 Park Ave., Woonsocket, R. I., is collecting minerals and wants correspondents.

"Win" writes to us:

"Please advise me on seeking a trade. Mention a good one. Is there any law against canvassing books in this way—if you buy a book for a price, and you sell it again for a gain of fifty per cent."

No one can advise you about a trade until such one knows something about your tastes and your education. What trade do you feel most interested in? Consider your inclinations, and follow them, unless there is a reason for not doing so. Plumbing is a good trade. So is bookbinding. So is carpentry. So are many others. Farming is a good occupation. Printing is not a bad trade. Many people think its difficulties great, but this impression is due to the fact that many printers own newspapers, and can fill them with accounts of their own troubles. Blacksmiths have troubles, but they own no newspaper in which to publish them. There is no statute law against buying a book and selling it for a higher price.

Fred F. Colyer asks how Mr. McKinley will officially know of his election as President of the United States, and what the recent meetings of electors were. To answer the last question first, they were the castings of the ballot of the electors in accordance with the plurality vote of the State. For example, in Pennsylvania, your own State, the voters cast their ballots not for Mr. McKinley, but for Presidential electors equal in number to the number of men in both Houses of Congress from Pennsylvania. They meet at the State capital. As a majority of the voters of the State voted for Mr. McKinley and Mr. Hobart, these official electors cast their ballots for them. This is the vote of Pennsylvania. The returns of these votes are sent to Washington, one copy by mail, and the other by special messenger. Both go to the President of the United States Senate, who, in the presence of both House and Senate, opens and records the result. This result is the official declaration, and by it Mr. McKinley and everybody else officially knows who the next President and Vice-President of the United States are to be.

[Pg 375]

> Any questions in regard to photograph matters will be willingly answered by the Editor of this column, and we should be glad to hear from any of our club who can make helpful suggestions.

### POOR NEGATIVES AND SOME OF THE CAUSES.

One of the most common mistakes of the young amateur is in not carrying the development of a plate quite far enough. This is shown when the plate, after removing from the fixing-bath, though full of detail, is so thin and weak that it is impossible to get a good print from it, the toning resulting in turning the print to a slaty gray color or an ugly brown. A plate which has been properly exposed but not sufficiently developed may be redeveloped by a process called in photography intensification. Directions for intensifying were given in No. 824, August 13, 1895, but for the benefit of new members of the club we give another formula.

#### Intensifying Solutions.

#### No. 1.

Chloride of ammonia | 100 | grs.
Bichloride of mercury | 100 | grs.
Water | 10 | oz.

#### No. 2.

Strong ammonia | 2 | drms.
Water | 20 | oz.

If the negative has been washed and dried, soak it for a few minutes till the film is thoroughly wet, then place it film side up in a tray and pour over it enough of solution No. 1 to cover it well. Allow it to remain, rocking the tray now and then, till the image has turned white. Wash thoroughly in several changes of water, place it face up in another tray, and cover it with solution No. 2, leaving it till the image has turned brown. Wash well, and dry. If the negative is still too weak, either repeat the process or redevelop in a weak solution of hydrochinon. Solution No. 1 may be used repeatedly, but solution No. 2 must be thrown away after once using.

A plate that has been developed too long will be found dark all over, and it will take a long time to make a print from it. A print made from a very dense negative fades out quickly in the toning solution, and must be printed deeper than one made from a good negative, in order to get a good picture. An over-developed negative may be reduced so as to make a fine negative. There are many formulas for reducing solutions, but the one considered the most reliable is called "Farmer's Reducer," the formula for which is as follows:

Water | 4 | oz.
Hypo | 30 | grs.
Potassium ferridcyanide | 3 | grs.

This solution must be made up just before using. Place the negative while wet in the tray and cover it with the solution. Rock the tray all the time, and look at the negative frequently to see if the reduction has been carried far enough. A convenient way of handling the plate during the process is to put it into a plate-lifter, immerse it in the solution for a minute or two, lift out and rinse, and if the reduction has not been carried far enough return it again to the solution. Care must be taken that the picture is not reduced too much.

When the negative is dense in the high lights and without detail in the shadows, it indicates that the plate was under-exposed. Where the subject is one which cannot be obtained again, the negative may be treated according to directions given recently in one of the papers on retouching; but if the picture can be repeated, it is not worth while to spend time on a poor negative.

A negative which shows clear glass in the corners is due to the lens being too small for the plate, and does not fully cover it.

Fogged negatives are caused in several ways. If the edges of the plate which come under the protector in the plate-holder are clear, and the rest of the plate is fogged, the fog is caused by light entering the camera, or by over-exposure of the plate. If there are streaks across the plate, it is due to a small hole in the camera or to the rays of the sun striking the lens during exposure. A plate which has been fogged by the sun may be reduced by drying the plate and then taking a clean piece of chamois, dipping it in alcohol, and rubbing the fogged spots gently and evenly. Do this very carefully, touching only the places that are fogged. Dense high lights may also be reduced by rubbing the places with alcohol, this process bringing out the details which are lost in the development.

> Frederick Montgomery, 2421 Pennsylvania Ave., Washington, D. C.; T. Parker Hall, Taunton, Mass.; Hubert Burnham, 232 Dempster St., Evanston, Ill.; John H. Ashum, 1404 State St., Eau Claire, Wis.; Elizur Smith, P. O. Box 436, Lee, Mass.; Ralph B. Leonard, 98 Green St., Cumberland, Md.; Floyd W. Giles, 49 Columbia Ave., Cumberland, Md.; T. K. Wellington, 33 Walnut Place, Eighth St., Troy, N. Y.; Stanley Symmes, 630 Harrison St., San Francisco, Cal.; Hall M. Crossman, Steelton, Pa.; Roxley F. Weber, Salamanca, N. Y.; Bronson M. Warren, Bridgeport, Conn.; Wilbur T. Helm, 15 W. Biddle St., Baltimore, Md.—wish to become members of the Camera Club.

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Hold their place in the front rank of the publications to which they belong.—Boston Journal, Feb. 19, 1896.

## Harper's

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Round Table, $2.00 a Year

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[Pg 376]

THE GOSSIPS.
"The trained dog in the next cage says he's going to move!"
"What for?"
"He says there's too much red ape about this menagerie."

### FROM ONE BOY TO ANOTHER.

I'm sorry for you, King of Spain—
You're just a boy like me—
But even though you are a boy
You are not half as free!
You're fenced about by etiquette—
By lots of little rules
Like those we have to mind when we
Are in our dancing-schools.
Poor little King!—you have no fun
Like that of other boys;
You cannot jump and romp about,
And try to make a noise.
You cannot take a sled and slide
Like lightning down a hill;
To land head-first in snow would make
Your little highness ill.
You have a tutor come to you
Instead, like we boys have,
Of going to school and romping there,
With none to domineer!
Poor little King!—I weep for you,
Deprived of all life's joy;
And when I pray, I pray you'll dream
That you're a Yankee boy.
For I have found that that which comes
By day, for wrong or right,
Is easier made by fairy dreams
Which come to me at night.
So, little King, I beg you take
From me, a Yankee free,
The message of a boy who has
A deal of sympathy.
And while we do not care for kings,
And look on thrones askance,
We love you as a fellow-boy,
And wish you had a chance!
John Kendrick Bangs.

### A VALID REASON.

Jimmieboy had just moved into town, and he didn't like hotel life.

"What's the matter, Jimmieboy? Why don't you like it here?" asked a friend.

"Oh, it's sort of flat," said Jimmieboy. "Home I can go all over the house, but here pop's got lots of visitors that seem to own the rooms. I wish he'd never hired this old hotel!"

### THE AMERICAN BOY.

"And where did you come from?" asked the foreigner of Bobbie.

"Mamma bought me at Tiffany's," replied Bobbie.

### AN UNPLEASANT PLACE.

"I'd like to be a policeman for five minutes!" said Jack, after he'd been punished.

"What for?" asked his sister.

"I'd arrest papa for hitting me!" sobbed Jack.

"Where'd you put him?" asked the little girl.

"Nowhere," answered Jack. "That's the worst place I know of to be in."

### NOT ALWAYS BEST.

"Well, Tommie, how far have you got in arithmetic?"

"Fractions," said Tommie.

"And do you like them?"

"Well—I prefer bananas for dessert," said Tommie.

### FROM THE ARITHMETIC CLASS.

"Suppose I take seventeen boys," began the teacher, "and one pie. And I divide that pie equally among them."

"Yes," said the class.

"What, Willie Robinson, will one of those pieces amount to?"

"One swaller," said Willie.

### A HINT.

"Well, Jacky," said Uncle George, "what are you going to be when you grow up?"

"An uncle if I can afford it," said Jacky. "Uncles ought always to have pockets full of nickels to give to their nephews—don't you think?"

### WILLIE'S QUESTIONS.

"Pop," said Willie.

"Well?" replied his father.

"I want to ask you a question."

"What is it?"

"Do you suppose birds sing for nothing, because they know nobody'd ever pay their bill?"

### THE REASON FOR IT.

"How fast you are growing, Tommie."

"Yes. Too fast, I think. They water me too much. Why, I have to take a bath every morning."

### NONCOMMITTAL.

"Are you fond of your aunts, Polly?" asked one of those dear relatives.

"Don't collect 'em," said Polly. "I go in for beetles and butterflies."

### FOOTNOTES:

[1] Begun in Harper's Round Table No. 898.

    End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, February 9, 1897, by Various

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