CHAPTER XVI.

ESCAPE OF THE FIRST MATE AND CREW.

The situation certainly looked hopeless for our lads, and the men on the sloop were already shouting derisively at them. Alaric caught another mental glimpse of the government prison, and even Bonny's stout heart experienced an instant of despair. He was still standing in the stern of the dinghy and holding the oar that he had used in sculling. Moved by a sudden impulse, and just as the extended boat-hook was dropping over the stern of the dinghy, he struck it a smart blow with his oar, and had the good fortune to send it whirling from the sailor's grasp. With a second quick motion the lad set his oar against the stern of the yawl, that was now within four feet of him, and gave a vigorous shove. The slight headway of the heavy craft was checked, and the lighter dinghy forged ahead.

"Oh, you will, will you, you young rascal?" cried the sailor, angrily, as he leaped back to his thwart, and bent to his oar with furious energy. His companion followed his example, and under the impetus of their powerful strokes the yawl sprang forward. At the same time Bonny, facing backward, and working his oar with both hands, was sculling so sturdily that the dinghy rocked from side to side until it seemed to Alaric that she must certainly capsize. She was making such splendid headway, though, that the much heavier yawl could not gain an inch. Its crew, unable to see the fugitive dinghy without turning their heads, and having no one to steer for them, were placed at a disadvantage that Bonny was quick to detect.

Watching his opportunity, he caused his craft to swerve sharply to one side, and the yawl holding her original course for some seconds before his manoeuvre was discovered, his lead was thus materially increased.

Just as Bonny was ready to drop his oar from exhaustion a shrill, long-drawn whistle sounded from the now distant beach. Its effect on the crew of the yawl was magical. They stopped rowing, looked at each other, and consulted. Then they gazed at the retreating dinghy and hesitated. They felt it to be their duty to continue the pursuit, but they also knew the penalty for disobeying an order from a superior, and that whistle was an unmistakable order for them to go back.

The cutter's third Lieutenant had returned from his expedition into the woods with three wretched Chinamen, whom, despite their eagerly produced certificates, he had seen fit to make prisoners. He was amazed to find the yawl gone from where he had left it, and the details of the chase in which it was engaged being hidden from him by the intervening sloop, he gave the whistle signal for its immediate return.

As the crew of the yawl hesitated between duty and obedience the peremptory whistle order was repeated louder and shriller than before. This decided the wavering sailors, and they reluctantly turned their boat.

As for the fugitives, they could hardly believe the evidence of their senses. Was the chase indeed given over, and were they free to go where they pleased? It seemed incredible. Just as they were on the point of being captured, too, for Bonny now confided to Alaric that he couldn't have held out at that pace one minute longer. As he said this the tired lad sat down for a short rest.

Almost immediately he again sprang to this feet, and thrusting his oar overboard, began to scull with one hand. "It won't do for us to be loafing here," he explained, "for I expect those fellows have been called back so that the whole crowd can chase us in the sloop."

"Oh, I hope not," said Alaric; "I'm tired of running away."

"So am I," laughed Bonny--"tired in more ways than one; but if fellows bigger than we are will insist on chasing us, I don't see that there is anything for us to do but run. There! thank goodness we've rounded the point at last, and got out of sight of them for a while at any rate."

"Where are you going now, and what do you propose to do next?" asked Alaric, who, fully realizing his own helplessness in this situation, was willing to leave the whole scheme of escape to his more experienced companion.

"That's what I'm wondering. Of course it won't do to stay out here very long, for in less than fifteen minutes the sloop will be shoving her nose around that point. Nor it wouldn't be any use to try and get to Tacoma--at least not yet a while--for that's where they'll be most likely to hunt for us. So I think we'd better cross the channel, turn our boat adrift, and make our way overland to Skookum John's camp. It isn't very sweet-smelling, and they don't feed you any too well--that is, not according to our ideas--but just because it is such a mean kind of a place no one will ever think of looking for us there. Besides, Skookum's a very decent sort of a chap, and he'll keep us posted on all that happens in the bay. So if you don't mind roughing it a bit--"

"No, indeed," interrupted Alaric, eagerly. "I don't mind it at all. In fact, that is just what I want to do most of anything, and I've always wished I could live in a real Indian camp. The only Indians I ever saw were in the Wild West Show in Paris."

"Have you been to Paris?" asked Bonny, wonderingly.

"Yes, of course, I was there for-- I mean yes, I've been there. But, Bonny, what makes you think of turning this boat adrift? Wouldn't we find her useful?"

"I suppose we might; but she isn't our boat, you know, and you wouldn't keep a boat that didn't belong to you just because it might prove useful, would you?"

"No, certainly not," replied Alaric, rather surprised to have his companion take this view of the question. "I would try and hand her over to the rightful owner."

"So would I," agreed Bonny, "if I knew who he was; but after what has just happened I don't know, and so I am going to turn her adrift in the hope that he will find her. Besides, it wouldn't be safe to leave her on shore, because she would show anybody who happened to be looking for us just where we had landed."

"That's a much better reason than the other," said Alaric.

During this conversation the dinghy had been urged steadily across the channel, and was now run up to a bold bank, where the boys disembarked. After removing Alaric's bag and the several cans of provisions so thoughtfully furnished them by Captain Duff, Bonny gave the boat a push out into the channel, down which the ebbing tide bore her, with many a twist and turn, toward the more open waters of the sound.

"To be left in this way in an unknown wilderness makes me feel as Cortez must have felt when he burned his ships," reflected Alaric, as he watched the receding craft.

"I don't think I ever heard about that," said Bonny, simply. "Did he do it for the insurance?"

"Not exactly," laughed Alaric; "and yet in a certain way he did too. I'll tell you all about it some time. Now, what are you going to do next?"

"Climb that bluff, lie down under those trees while you eat something, and watch for the sloop," answered Bonny, as though his programme had all been arranged beforehand.

They did this, and Alaric was so hungry that he made away with a whole box of sardines and a tin of deviled ham. He wondered a little if they would not make him ill, but did not worry much, for he was rapidly learning that while leading an out-of-door life one may eat with impunity many things that would kill one under more ordinary conditions. He had just finished his ham, and was casting thoughtful glances toward a bottle of olives, when Bonny exclaimed. "There she is!"

Sure enough, the sloop, with the cutter's yawl in tow, was slowly beating out past the point on the opposite side of the channel. She stood well over toward the western shore, and the tide so carried her down that when she tacked she was close under the bluff on which the boys, stretched at full length and peering through a fringe of tall grasses, watched her. She came so near that Alaric grew nervous, and was certain her crew were about to make a landing at that very spot. With a vision of McNeil's Island always before him, he wanted to run from so dangerous a vicinity and hide in the forest depths; but Bonny assured him that the sloop would go about, and in another moment she did so, greatly to Alaric's relief.

They could see that Captain Duff was still confined below, and they even heard one of the men sing out to the officer in command: "There it is now, sir, about two miles down the channel. I can see it plain."

"Very good," answered the Lieutenant; "keep your eye on it, and note if they make a landing. If they don't, we'll have them inside of half an hour."

"Yes, you will," said Bonny, with a grin.

As the sloop passed out of hearing the lads crept back from the edge of the bluff, gathered up their scanty belongings, and started through the forest toward the place where Bonny believed Skookum John's camp to be located.

After an hour of hard travel, they came suddenly on the camp, and were terrified at sight of the cutter's yawl lying in the mouth of the creek, and the revenue officer standing on shore engaged in earnest conversation with Skookum John himself. Soon he shook hands with the Indian and stepped into his boat. Just as it was about to shove off, a villanous cur, scenting the new-comers, darted toward their hiding-place, barking furiously.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

STORIES OF CONGO DISCOVERY.

THE SECOND LARGEST RIVER IN THE WORLD.

BY CYRUS C. ADAMS.

About a hundred years ago the school children of our country were reading in their Morse's Geography that there were no great mountains in North America, and that our largest mountains were the Alleghanies, which were supposed to be a continuation of the Andes, interrupted by the Gulf of Mexico. Teachers in those days edified boys and girls with more or less amusing misinformation such as this about the land they lived in. It was three hundred years after Columbus had discovered America, and such blunders in the text-books show how very slowly geographical knowledge had grown in those centuries.

But there has been a revolution. For over fifty years men and women have been eagerly studying this great house where we abide, with its five big rooms and its thousands of little ones. No one ever saw before such zeal for geographical discovery. Africa heads the list, for that continent, a fourth larger than our own, which was scarcely known a century ago, except in its outlines and along some of its rivers, has been thrown open to our gaze in nearly every corner; and the part of Africa where the greatest amount of work, the largest interest, and the most surprising discoveries have centred is the basin of the Congo, the second largest of the world's river systems.

Europe knew of this mighty river before she ever heard of Columbus. For four centuries sailors of various lands saw the Atlantic tinted for forty miles from the shore by the yellow Congo tide; but no one knew till Stanley told, eighteen years ago, where this mighty flood came from. Livingstone lived and travelled for many months along the far upper Congo, but the great old man died in the belief that he had traced one of the sources of the Nile. It was the Niger problem reversed. Nobody knew for centuries where the Niger River reached the sea. Nobody knew where the Congo gathered its great floods. One river needed a mouth, and the other a fountainhead, and so some wise geographers united the two, making the Niger the upper part of the Congo. Mungo Park, who traced the upper Niger for a thousand miles, believed it was a Congo tributary, if not the Congo itself; and the Tuckey expedition perished of fever among the lower Congo cataracts in 1816, while bravely trying to fulfil their mission to ascend the Congo to the Niger, if the two rivers were really one.

Eighteen years ago Stanley traced the Congo from central Africa over 1500 miles to the ocean. His great discovery made him famous, but other men who followed him, some of whose names are hardly known, except to geographers, have travelled far more widely in the Congo basin than Stanley was able to do. He led the way, and forty or fifty followers, scattering all over the Congo basin, which is half as large as the United States, have been revealing this land to us; and students of the ocean have been studying the sea-bed off its mouth. Let us glance at a few facts that have been learned about this mighty river system.

It is found that more water pours into the ocean through the Congo's mouth, which is six miles wide, than from all the other rivers in Africa put together. The soft, dark-colored mud brought down by the river has been distinctly traced on the ocean bottom for six hundred miles from the land. In no other part of any ocean do the influences of the land waters make themselves felt so far out to sea.

But it is not the deep lower Congo, which large steamers from Europe ascend to the foot of the rapids, nor the roaring torrents along the 235 miles of the cataract region, that have attracted most attention. It is the placid upper Congo, with its few reaches of rapids, and its many tributaries, stretching away to far-distant parts of inner Africa, that has kept the map-makers busy. This is the part of the continent where explorers have been most active and the results most remarkable. No part of the world of the same extent ever yielded so many geographical surprises as did this region from 1885 to 1890. It was simply impossible for the cartographers to keep their maps abreast of the news as it came from the upper Congo.

In January, 1885, the missionary George Grenfell started from Stanley Pool on his little steamboat in quest of villages of friendly natives where mission stations might be planted with good prospects of success. He had previously been far up the river, and thought he knew it very well; but on this trip he accidentally got out of the Congo, and did not discover his mistake until he had steamed along a whole day, and found that his little craft was pushing into a region where no white man had ever been before. Grenfell had stumbled into the mouth of the Mobangi-Makua River. For more than two years Stanley and his followers had been travelling up and down the Congo, but they never saw--or at least they never recognized--this great affluent, which is larger than any European river except the Volga and the Danube. Grenfell forgot his missions for the time, became the zealous explorer, and kept on his course up the wide river until he was stopped by rapids, having left the Congo about 400 miles behind; and while he was threading the virgin stream Stanley was in England making his large map of the Congo, on which not a trace of its greatest tributary appeared. The distinguished explorer was the first victim of the swarm of discoveries which from that day for years made every new map of the Congo behind the times as soon as the next mails arrived from the river.

Perhaps some of the other white men had seen the mouth of the Mobangi-Makua, and thought it merely an arm of the Congo enclosing an island; for this is the region of the sealike expansion of the river, where only a water horizon could be seen from either shore if it were not for the myriad islands that cut the river into scores of tortuous channels. There were white men on these Congo banks who neither saw nor heard of the fleet of vessels that passed them a few miles away, carrying the hundreds of men of the Emin relief expedition. Before Stanley came whole tribes on one shore had never seen the people who lived across the river.

A little later in 1885 a steamboat was sent up the Congo to the mouth of the big river that enters it at Equatorville. No vessel could have a more pleasant mission, for this steamer was the bearer of loving letters from home and fresh supplies of European food for Wissman's party of explorers, who had been in the African wilderness for many months, and might be in sore need of succor. It was thought the party was quite certain to emerge from the great unknown region south of the Congo at Equatorville, and the reason for this belief is interesting.

Many years before, Livingstone had crossed the upper waters of a river, the Kassai, now known as the second largest Congo tributary. Stanley believed the Kassai emptied into the Congo at Equatorville, and all the map-makers adopted his hypothesis. Captain Wissman and his comrades were sent from Germany to march inland from the Atlantic to the upper waters of the Kassai, and then to follow it to its mouth; and as this point was supposed to be at Equatorville, the mails and supplies for Wissman were sent there, and the officers of the steamer expected any day to see his expedition float into view.

Wissman reached the upper Kassai, and discovered there a remarkable tribe, the Baluba, whose chief had cut down all the palm-trees in his country to keep his people from getting drunk on palm wine. This chief helped Wissman to hollow big canoes out of tree-trunks, and then he and many of his subjects, who engaged with the explorer as paddlers, set out with the white men down the unknown stream.

Wissman expected that the river would carry him far to the north, but in a few days he was much surprised to find that he was travelling much further west than north. Day after day he floated further and further to the west, and after many weeks, and some curious adventures that cannot be told in this chapter, he reached the Congo. A few days later another stern-wheeler ascended the Congo, and at Equatorville pulled up to the shore alongside the waiting vessel.

"What are you doing here?" asked the Captain.

"Oh, we're waiting for Wissman, and it's high time he came."

"Let's see; how long have you been waiting for Wissman?"

"Well, we've been here a little over two months. We're running short of supplies ourselves, and if the party doesn't turn up here within the next week, we shall leave Wissman's mails and boxes, and go back to Stanley Pool."

"Well, Wissman has the start of you. He's at Stanley Pool now."

"You don't mean it! Reached the Congo? How long ago?"

"Just a week."

"Why didn't he follow the Kassai to its mouth, as he was ordered to do?"

"He did. You see, this river here isn't the Kassai. The Kwa River is the Kassai. Wissman reached the Congo at Kwamouth over 200 miles south of here."

More work for the map-makers. This story illustrates the surprises that came to Europe month after month from the Congo basin. The geographers had to pull to pieces most of their preconceptions about the lay of the land and the extent and direction of the rivers. The waters of the Sankuru, for instance, which Livingstone and Stanley had crossed in their upper part, were found to reach the Congo about 700 miles from the supposed point of confluence. Lakes that had appeared on the maps, on native or Arab authority, were wiped out. A part of the Lualaba, or western head stream of the Congo, was found to have no counterpart in Africa. The narrow gorge, forty-three miles long, through which it flows, walled in by perpendicular rock masses rising a quarter of a mile above the stream, resembles our great Western cañons. In these few years nearly all of our notions of Congo hydrography away from the main stream were completely changed.

This was not all. While threading these numerous rivers in their little steamboats, the explorers found many new peoples who had been buried from the world's view in the dark Congo forests or on the vast inland plains. You have read of the ancient troglodytes and of the prehistoric lake-dwellers of Europe. Proofs of their existence are found among the earliest evidences of human life; but the Congo basin to-day has two large centres of lake-dwellers. Many thousands of people live in huts reared high on piles out of reach of floods; and a few lakes are dotted with these habitations, thus placed beyond the easy reach of enemies.

The explorers discovered the widespread haunts of the Batwa dwarfs--the keen little hunters who had been seen when Stanley wrote his book, _The Congo_. Their researches proved that the Congo basin is the greatest hotbed of cannibalism the world ever saw. These and many other discoveries kept geographers on the alert. Thus the Congo basin has contributed a chapter to geographical and anthropological discovery that has scarcely been surpassed in importance or romantic interest.

THE BROKEN CHARGE.

BY JAMES BUCKHAM.

Would you hear of the bravest, coolest deed Ever inspired by a nation's need?

Thomas McBurney--a Kansas-bred Scot-- Lay in his rifle-pit, waiting a shot.

Over him whistled the enemy's balls; _Ping!_ and they struck in the rampart walls.

Suddenly out of the woods there broke A line of cavalry gray as smoke.

A troop--a regiment--a brigade. Oh! what a rush and a roar they made!

A wild, swift charge on the frail redoubt, Carbines ready and sabres out.

Hither and thither, like frightened hares, Fled the sharpshooters out of their lairs.

All save Thomas McBurney; he Thought not first what _his_ fate might be.

Uppermost thought in his hero soul, To save the fort, and the field control.

On they thundered, the cavalcade. McBurney waited; his plan was made.

Fifty yards from his cairn of rocks-- Up he popped, like a Jack-in-the-box!

_Bang!_ and the leader's horse went down, Neck outstretched in the wire-grass brown.

Over him tumbled a dozen more, And the Colonel--his heart and his head were sore.

"Halt!" he cried, and the broken line Stopped, strung out like a trailing vine.

Lo! in the valley's dim expanse Tossing flags and bayonets' glance.

Re-enforcements! At double-quick They cross the meadows and ford the creek--

Boys in blue, with their banners bright, Just in season to turn the fight.

Thomas McBurney, as cool as you please, Settled down on his dust-grimed knees.

To pray? Yes, thankfully--and to run A well-greased cartridge into his gun!

THE VANISHED ISLAND.

"Let her go off a little, Ralph; you'll come out better in the end if you don't jam your boat too close to the wind. Keep your sail full, even if you don't point quite so high, and you'll go faster through the water, and get quicker to the place you're bound to."

So spoke Grandfather Sterling one summer afternoon to his grandson as the old Captain's cat-boat _Mabel_ was being tacked across the bay, after a day spent in picnicking on one of a number of the little islands that were to be found within a few miles of the Captain's down-east home.

"Grandfather," said Ralph, after letting the boat run up in the wind to ease her of a strong and sudden puff, "while we were fishing to-day you made the remark that the last time you had fished off an uninhabited island you were a good many thousands of miles from this part of the world. Is there a good story connected with it?"

The old mariner nodded his head in the affirmative.

"Yes, my lad, as usual I have an exciting yarn to spin you, even if the subject is nothing more than that of an uninhabited island, and to-night, after dinner has been tucked away, you may expect to hear it. But here's the dock, so mind your eye, and let me see you bring the _Mabel_ to it in ship-shape style."

Ralph steered so as to go to leeward of the pier, calculating the distance his boat would reach after she had been thrown up in the wind, and a moment later he put the tiller down and gathered in his sheet. The _Mabel_ shot ahead with considerable speed for a moment, then her way became slower and slower, and when her snub nose touched the dock there was not enough force in the contact to send a tremor through the boat.

"That's Boston fashion, my boy," said Captain Sterling, regarding his grandson proudly.

That evening Ralph's grandfather related to the lad a story, which he named, "The Yarn of the Vanished Island."

"It is so many years ago now that I dislike to tell you the number, for fear that you will think that I am growing old; so I will simply say that when I was a hearty young seaman I found myself out in San Francisco 'on the beach,' as sailors put it when they have neither money nor employment. I could have had both by remaining on the _Dove_, the vessel in which I had sailed around Cape Horn, but the treatment received on board had been so bad that all hands deserted as soon as she reached California. I made myself scarce until the ship sailed, then found a berth on a top-sail schooner called the _Queen_, that traded around the Sandwich Islands, bartering all kinds of trinkets with the natives for sandal-wood and the plumage of beautiful birds, which in the days I refer to were common on all the islands. The sandal-wood and feathers were carried to China and traded for tea, and this was taken to California and sold in different ports along the coast.

"We were a happy family on board the _Queen_, for we all lived in a big cabin aft, and Captain Josiah Crabtree, the master of the schooner, who was a very eccentric and pious old fellow from Massachusetts, and who had made a considerable fortune in the trade, kept strict order among us, and seemed to consider himself responsible for our spiritual as well as earthly welfare, for he held church service regularly every Sunday morning on deck, and obliged all hands to be present. He quoted Scripture on all occasions, and always had an appropriate verse handy for anything and everything, whether it was a call to meals or an order to tar down the rigging. In spite of his peculiar ways we respected him so much that during the time I served on the schooner I never heard a profane word used--in fact, it would have been unhealthy to do so, for Captain Crabtree was over six feet in height, and was what is called a 'muscular Christian.'

"On the voyage I sailed with him, the master of the _Queen_ was to try a new plan. The supply of feathers had been falling off for the last two or three voyages, so he determined to go hunting on his own account. He explained to us that there were a number of small islands to the northward and westward of Hawaii that were uninhabited, and that he proposed to visit several of them, leaving a man on each, supplied with provisions, a shot-gun, and plenty of ammunition, and that during the short time we were to play Robinson Crusoe he expected us to shoot as many birds as possible, and to carefully save their feathers until he should come back and pick us up. This plan suited us first rate, for we looked upon it as promising a great lark, and were anxious for the _Queen_ to cover the twenty-five hundred miles of water that separated us from the little islands with their delightful climate on which we were to picnic.

"After a long passage, for the schooner was a slow sailer, we sighted the first of the group, and one of the men was set on shore. I was left on the second one, and found it a paradise, with its snow-white beach, its beautiful, luxuriant vegetation and woods, and its balmy air laden with the odor of flowers. The Captain told me to look out for his return about a fortnight later.

"As there was a rivalry among the sportsmen on account of a money prize offered for the one who secured the largest amount of gay-colored feathers, I soon got my little camp in shape, and settled down to business. So numerous were the birds, and so proficient did I become in the use of my fowling-piece, that by the time the two weeks had passed my store of treasure almost filled the large sack that I had brought from the schooner.

"It was the night of the fifteenth day that I had been on the island. Ever since early morning the atmosphere had been so stifling that I had lain under the trees almost suffocated. The earth itself seemed to burn. It was not only the fearful heat and the absence of anything like a breeze, but there was a sulphurous smell in the air, and the water from the spring had tasted so hot and bitter when I tried to drink it that I was not able to swallow it.

"At length I fell asleep, but only to be awakened by a fearful rumbling, followed a moment later by a crash that threatened to rend the island in twain. At the instant I took it to be thunder, but the starry splendor of the sky told me to look elsewhere for the cause. Almost before I could reason, the island commenced to rock and heave as though it was a ship at sea, and such an overpowering smell of sulphur was sent forth that I fell to the ground overcome with terror and faintness. During the remainder of the night the rumbling went on at times deep down in the heart of the island, but there were no more of the awful shocks and crashes that had stunned me in the beginning. Slowly the daylight came, bringing with it a gentle breeze that cleared away the sickening atmosphere, and then as the day broadened I made out, to my joy, the _Queen_ standing toward the land.

"An hour later, when the schooner's boat touched the beach, I threw my bag of feathers into her and followed them. Then on our way to the vessel, which was hove to about a mile off-shore, I gave my companions an account of my last night on the island. When we reached the _Queen_ I rehearsed my story to the Captain. He was deeply interested in its details, and was in the middle of a scriptural quotation when he stopped suddenly, gave a cry, and pointed to the island.

"We were not more than two miles from it at the time, so that it lay in full view from our deck in the brilliant sunshine. The dazzling white beach had disappeared, and the sea looked to be creeping up toward the trees that grew on the higher ground inland. As we all gazed, fascinated at the scene, the trees were sucked down slowly into the deep. Soon nothing but the tops of the tallest ones were left, and a moment later even these had entirely disappeared, and the ocean swept clear to all points of the horizon. The beautiful island on which I had lived for two weeks, and through whose woods and vales I had roamed, was swallowed up, to be seen no more forever, and amid the foliage in which I had lain two hours before the fishes were then sporting at the bottom of the Pacific."

A WIDE-AWAKE COLLECTOR.

One of the most enterprising stamp-collectors that has ever come to our notice was a small Swiss boy, who, during the late war between Japan and China, wrote the following note to Marshal Yamagata, in command of the Japanese forces:

HONORED MARSHAL,--I am only a school-boy ten years old. I live at Berne. Upon the map, Switzerland is smaller than Japan. I was very pleased to hear that you have been serving the Chinese as my ancestors served their enemies. I hope that you will conquer all China, and throw down the famous wall which prevents people from going there. No doubt it is because of that wall that I have not got any Chinese stamps in my album. You must have captured a lot where you are, and I should be pleased if you would send me some.

Unfortunately for this record of his enterprise, the boy's name is unknown to us, but it is stated that the Marshal, having received the letter, was so much amused by it that he took the trouble to secure a large number of Chinese stamps and to send them to his lively little correspondent.

BY GASTON V. DRAKE.

XI.--FROM BOB TO JACK.

LONDON, _July_ --, 189-.

Dear Jack,--We're still in London, and I guess if we stay here until we've seen it all we'll never get to Hoboken. Talk about your three-ringed circuses! London beats 'em all for side-shows and go. When you think you've seen all there is to see you come across an entirely new lot of museums, and parks, and hysterical spots to be visited, and I'm just dizzy trying to remember what Pop told me not to forget. What with St. James's Palace and Madame Tussaud's wax-works, the Zoo and the National Gallery, I hardly know what I saw where, except that of course I didn't see any wax-works at the Zoo.

I think altogether the Zoo and the wax-works are the things I've liked best of all about here. The National Gallery is pretty good, but after you've seen about forty-two miles of pictures, some of 'em as big as a farm your eyes get tired and the back of your neck sort of hurts. Still, I went through it because Pop said I ought to, and whenever I have a nightmare nowadays instead of seeing boojums and snarks I see old masters. You never saw an old master did you? Well you needn't be in any hurry to. They aren't the sort of things boys like very much. They're generally cracked so's to look like a go-bang board and keep you guessing about what they're pictures of, but Aunt Sarah who studied art last winter in Yonkers says they're very educating, and I guess she knows. She says she does anyhow and I don't think she'd say a thing that wasn't so. I can't say that I've learned much from 'em except perhaps that the pictures you and I draw in the backs of our spelling books aren't so bad after all.

Pop says he's learned one thing from 'em too. There used to be a fellow named Gainsborough that painted acres of pictures every year, and Pop says his things are fine and prove that theatre hats aren't modern inventions and he's right about it. He's got several pictures in this gallery that would drive me crazy if I had to sit behind 'em at a matinee. There were some pictures there though that I'd give house-room to if they asked me, by Sir Edwin Landseer. Pictures of dogs. I tell you he could paint dogs that bark. It was as much as I could do to keep from whistling to 'em and patting 'em on the head, and one little spaniel was painted so well that it seemed to me I could see his tail wag. Pop says that that was all imagination, but Aunt Sarah said no it was art, and I let 'em argue it out between 'em. Whatever it was though that painted dog's tail wagged and it was worth travelling miles to see.

I was kind of disappointed with St. James's Palace. I expected to see something like a transformation scene at Humpty Dumpty, gold doors, and fountains, and bands playing and all that. You'd think a Palace would be different from a factory anyhow, but it wasn't, very. It didn't look any livelier than a jail would, and as far as the outside of it was concerned I couldn't see that it was any handsomer than the Grand Central Depot in New York, and not half as big. They wouldn't let us inside. I thought perhaps the Queen was asleep and they were afraid I'd whistle, but Pop said she didn't live there any more, and I didn't blame her. I wouldn't either if I could help it. I dare say it's very fine inside, with onyx stairways and solid gold banisters for the children to slide down, but outside I wouldn't give a cent for it. If it wasn't for the soldiers with their big bear-skin hats and robin-red-breast coats on I wouldn't have cared if we never saw it. The soldiers were worth looking at, though most of 'em have such great big bulgy chests you'd take 'em for pouter pigeons.

Right alongside of the Palace is where the Prince of Whales lives and while we were looking at it he came out in a cab. He was another disappointment. He wore a beaver hat just like Pop's, and instead of having a scepter in his hands he carried an umbrella and a cigar; just the sort of man you'd expect to meet on Broadway any day of the year. Somehow it's hard to get used to the idea of a real live Prince wearing a beaver hat and carrying an umbrella, and it almost makes me sorry I came. I suppose if I could really find out how to go to Fairyland and should go there I'd find all the fairies dressed up in pea-jackets and sailor hats like most of the boys we see nowadays, and probably they'd be playing ball or riding bicycles instead of flying about on gossamer wings and swinging on cobwebs.

I spoke to Pop about it, and he said it was because the Prince loved the people that he didn't dress up like Solomon. All the men feel that they've got to dress like the Prince of Whales and if he came out in a bathing suit and a blue plush smoking-cap on his head, every man in England and New York that wanted to be fashionable would do the same thing, and if he dressed as magnificently as he knew how, in a diamond-studded dress-suit and gold trousers, it would ruin everybody to go and do likewise. So he wears clothes that are within the reach of all, which I think is very nice of him, though I wish I could see him on Sunday when he puts on his best. Pop says the way the men imitate him is very funny. He says there was an actor once disguised himself as the Prince who went riding through the Park on a donkey with bells on its hoofs, and next day sixty-three of the most fashionable young men of London appeared the same way, and when they found out that they had been fooled they were so angry that they wouldn't go to that actor's theatre again, but everybody else thought it was such a good joke that they went and the actor made a fortune.

I was going to tell you about the wax-works at Madame Tussaud's and the Zoo in this letter, but Pop says it's time for me to go to bed, because we are going to have a hard day to-morrow. We're going to take a coach and drive out to Hampton Court and back, so I'll have to close here. I wish you'd ask that Chicago boy if he's a grand-nephew of Baron Munchausen. I told Pop about that prairie-yacht and how Billie's seal-skin cap saved him from being scalped, and Pop was very much interested and said he thought he knew now who Billie was, and when I asked him who, he said the grand-nephew of Baron Munchausen, a man who never told the truth unless it was absolutely necessary.

Yours ever, BOB.

P. S.--I've just got out of bed for a minute to tell you that you never saw such monkies as they have at the Zoo. They look almost as human as some of our Aldermen in New York, Pop says.

The success of the New Manhattan Athletic Club in managing the recent in-door interscholastic games has suggested the possibility of having the club manage the National meet in June. This would be a very good scheme, if practicable, because experience has shown that hitherto the chief obstacle in the way of success for scholastic meetings has been poor business management.

It is not always possible for young men who have nearly all they can attend to at school to devote enough time to the business management of an athletic meeting to make it a thorough success; and it is therefore well, when possible, that this kind of work should be turned over to those who have more time and greater experience for the amount and kind of work required. The N.M.A.C. handled the recent games in a satisfactory way, and there is no reason to think that it would not carry out the plans for the National meet fully as well.

At the in-door games the club assumed the entire financial responsibility, and offered prizes besides; but the managers would naturally feel some hesitancy about doing the same thing for an out-of-door meeting, where the weather must have so much to do with the attendance. The constitution of the National Interscholastic Association stipulates, I believe, that the prizes in each event shall amount in value to $25. The N.M.A.C. would not care to saddle itself with the responsibility of offering thirteen or fourteen sets of $25 medals, besides paying the rental of the grounds and other incidental expenses; but I am informed on good authority that the club would be perfectly willing to assume the responsibility of securing grounds and of making all arrangements for advertising and management, as they did for the in-door games, at their own risk. Should there be any surplus after these expenses have been defrayed, this would go toward paying for the prizes--no set of medals to cost more than $25; and should there still be a surplus after that, the money would be turned over to the National Association's treasury. The club, I am sure, does not wish to make any profit out of the enterprise.

By such an arrangement, of course, there would be no shining medals on a table in the middle of the Berkeley Oval for the contestants to admire before they had been defeated in their events, and that would doubtless detract much from the interest in these games of our friends the medal-hunters; but on the other hand it would be a good thing if it could be announced that there would not be any medals on show that day, as this might keep these same medal-hunters off the grounds--which would be an advantage.

The prizes, as I have frequently said, are purely a secondary consideration; and even if there was not enough money left over, after all the expenses had been paid, to get anything better than ribbons, the success of the National Association would not suffer, for the games are not held for the purpose of distributing gold and silver disks, but for the purpose of encouraging amateur sport and to bring about meetings between the strongest athletes in the schools of the country. At the Olympic games which have just closed in Athens the victors received mere olive wreaths, but these wreaths are as precious to them as if they were of gold or precious stones. It is not the value of the wreath itself, it is what the faded leaves represent that the true sportsman cherishes.

It would not be fair to ask the N.M.A.C. or any club to assume the responsibility for the rent of the grounds and other necessary expenses, and for the medals too. It is a sufficient risk for them to undertake to pay for the former, without going into jewelry. I hope the National Association's Executive Committee will see the advantage of having the games--their first venture--managed by a club or an association of older and more experienced men, and come to an understanding on some such lines as the N.M.A.C. may propose.

A number of letters have come to this Department recently asking for suggestions about the construction of hard tennis courts. There are several kinds of these, the gravel court being by far the best of all. A gravel court is laid out by first digging about fifteen or eighteen inches down and filling this hole with broken brick, stone, and other coarse rubbish to within six inches of the top. Then coarse gravel of any kind should be put on and well packed down with a hose. This layer should come up to within two inches of the top. The last two inches should be filled in with fine screened gravel, and if this will not bind, add a little clay. On top of all this put from one-eighth to one-quarter of an inch of the finest red gravel--just enough to give color to the court. If too much of this red gravel is put on it will not bind well. It soon wears off, and then more should be laid on, and after this has been done a few times a court will keep its color all summer.

The advantage of such a court is that it needs but little care. All you have to do is to sweep the gravel off occasionally, and water and roll it. A light roller is sufficient for this purpose, as it is expected to affect the top layer of the gravel only. The best way to mark out a gravel court is with an inch tape nailed down with tacks. Whitewash will not do, as it spreads. The least satisfactory kind of hard court is made of cinders. These pack fairly well; but a cinder court requires a great deal of care to keep in order, and is always a dirty place to play on, the balls becoming black after a few sets, and consequently useless.

In nearly every city of the Middle West high-school associations have been organized during the past year or so, and these associations have done much toward encouraging school sport, and toward making the contests among their members more systematic than they have been heretofore. In Wisconsin interscholastic football and baseball games have until recently been carried on in a haphazard fashion, without any special attempt toward the formation of a union that might properly recognize the claims to supremacy of the successful team.

Last fall, however, the initial steps toward placing all branches of sport on a sound and permanent basis were taken. The season of 1895 clearly showed the need of an organization, and in December representatives from the schools of all the principal cities of southern Wisconsin met in Milwaukee and formed the Southern Wisconsin Inter-High-school League. The purposes of the organization are to develop all kinds of athletic sports in the schools, and to encourage a friendly rivalry in the various contests among its members. It also aims to correct some abuses which have crept into interscholastic sport--abuses which always will creep into any kind of sport where there is no restriction of government or organization. The league is divided into four circuits, each embracing the cities located in a certain territory, and the team which carries off the honors in its own circuit contests for the State Championship with the leaders in the other circuits.

The constitution of the Wisconsin League, while placing many wise restrictions upon its members, leaves them free to arrange their own schedules of games and to manage their own affairs as may seem best and wisest to them. The league will open the season of 1896 with baseball and track athletics--the field day for the latter to be held in Madison on June 9th. The first interscholastic field day of the Wisconsin schools was held June 8th of last year, under the auspices of the Wisconsin University Athletic Association. Twelve high-schools were represented, and many good records were made, a brief account of which was given in this Department in HARPER'S ROUND TABLE for July 2, 1895. Much interest is being displayed now in the coming meeting, and doubtless even a better showing will be made than that of last season.

It is in football, however, that the various schools of the league expect to see developed the hardest struggle for the championship. Last fall, although no organization had been effected, the contest for first place was a hard one, and the interest aroused in the schools was intense. Madison High-school justly deserves to rank at the head of the scholastic teams of that section. Her eleven won every game played. In fact, M. H.-S. has only been defeated once in football since it put an eleven into the field, three years ago. Of the eighteen contests in which it has engaged only one was lost, and that to the strong team of the St. John's Military Academy, which ought not to be classed as a school team, or played against by school teams, so long as the academy authorities sanction the methods at present in vogue at Delafield. The reason for M.H.-S.'s good record rests, doubtless, in the fact that Madison is an enthusiastic football town, and the school team gets much valuable experience and benefit from playing against the university eleven.

The formation of the Twin-City Dual Interscholastic League, which was mentioned in this Department last week, was brought about by complications which arose in the league formerly composed of the St. Paul High, the Minneapolis High, and the Duluth High schools. The old league fell to pieces, and the new one was constructed on different lines, which promise to make the venture a success. I am glad to say that I was misinformed concerning the presence of the standing jumps on the card. Mr. George Cole is the President, Stewart J. Fuller, the Vice-President, George Angst, Secretary, and Chester H. Griggs, Treasurer. These young men have all been prominent for some time in interscholastic sport, and if they can control the policy of the league, it will doubtless earn a high standing among similar associations.

The organization does not aim to control track athletics only, but will also look after the football and baseball interests of the St. Paul and Minneapolis schools. Track athletics have only been taken up systematically for the past five years in these two cities, and yet the schools have made rapid strides in this short time, and have sent a number of clever men to Eastern colleges. The St. Paul High-School has perhaps done better than most of the schools in that section in sending good men East. Winters, the well-known Yale tackle, Cochran, the end-rusher, and Langford, the stroke of the present Yale crew, are all graduates of that institution.

The Inter-collegiate Association has stricken the bicycle race from the regular schedule of the spring games. It would be a very good thing if the New York and Brooklyn I.S.A.A.'s, and, in fact, if all interscholastic associations would follow their example. The New York and Brooklyn associations could combine and have a bicycle field day in the same week of the annual interscholastic meetings, or at any other time that might seem more convenient, and do away with the unpleasant bicycle event at the track-athletic meeting altogether.

I suggest that the New York and Brooklyn associations combine, because it seems to me that it would be more profitable, on account of the larger number of entries, the greater interest, and the greater attendance such a union would command. Should the bicycle event be stricken from the interscholastic card, an excellent substitute would be a relay race. Relay races, as I have frequently said within the past few weeks, are becoming more and more popular all over the country, and sooner or later the relay race will become a standard event on every track-athletic card. Therefore, the sooner the interscholastic managers recognize this fact and put the race on their schedules, the better. If the entries for the relay races are so numerous in an association as large as the New York or Boston I.S.A.A. it would be possible to have the preliminary heats run in the morning, and have only finals at the games in the afternoon. This is a matter well worthy of consideration.

THE GRADUATE.

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.

Portugal announces a new set of commemorative stamps to be issued shortly. The designs have been accepted, but the colors and values of the stamps have not yet been decided upon. Nicaragua has issued a set of postage-stamps--1, 2, 5, 10, 20, and 50 centavos, 1, 2, 5 pesos. Also the same stamps surcharged "official." In addition, a new set of postage-due stamps--1, 2, 5, 10, 20, 30, and 50 centavos, all in orange color--and an "Officially Sealed" stamp in blue. Porto Rico has changed the colors on the current set of adhesives, thirteen stamps in all. Honduras has also just issued a new set. The Cuban Republic stamps, 2, 5,10, and 25 centavos, are sold by some of the smaller dealers.

All the above would probably come under the ban of the S.S.S.S. as unnecessary, and issued for revenue only. The work of eliminating or diminishing "speculative" stamps is very slow; but progress is steadily made, and the number of new issues during the past six months is less than the average.

J. L. HUNTER.--The coin is a French 5 centimes of 1856. No premium.

H. VAUGHN.--The probabilities are that the Cuban Republic stamps will be accepted by the great majority of collectors; but as yet the advanced philatelists will not admit them in their albums. They seem to me purely speculative, hence uncollectable. The $20 U.S. revenue is worth $1.50; the 24c. and 30c. War Departments are worth 50c. and 30c. respectively.

F. B. KINGSBURY.--Your coin is worth 6c.

J. SCHMIDT.--The 24c. 1869 U.S., with reversed centre, is worth $100 if in good condition.

G. B. SNIDER.--The only way the number of the sheet can be known is by the printed margin of the sheet. All the stamps on a sheet are identical.

R. S. CHASE, 30 Alumni Avenue, Providence, R. I., wishes to exchange stamps.

R. F. T.--Stamps printed "Marca di Bolo" are Italian Revenues. The 25c. Venezuela 1892 are common; millions were printed and used.

F. H. HORTING, F. J. WATTSON, D. W. HARDIN.--The coins are common. No dealer would pay a premium on them, as he picks them up in the regular course of business at face value. When dealers sell they of course ask an advance on face. They have to pay rent, clerk hire, advertising, and their own living expenses.

E. L. H.--The 8d. yellow New South Wales, 1860 issue, is worth 25c. The Canada 12-1/2c., 1868, is worth 18c.

D. W. H.--The millennial stamps have not been accepted as collectable by the majority of philatelists; but, of course, that is a matter to be settled by each collector for himself.

PHILATUS.

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This Department is conducted in the interest of Bicyclers, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the subject. Our maps and tours contain much valuable data kindly supplied from the official maps and road-books of the League of American Wheelmen. Recognizing the value of the work being done by the L. A. W., the Editor will be pleased to furnish subscribers with membership blanks and information so far as possible.

Continuing the journey from where it was left last week, proceed from Lyons westward up hill, turn left at the top, and proceed downward, over the canal, and thence, keeping to the right, cross the canal again, turn sharp left up a hill, and cross the bridge into Newark. This is eight miles from Lyons. The road, except at the hills, is in very good condition. Leaving Newark, take the second turn to the right and cross the canal, but instead of proceeding straight ahead towards East Palmyra, turn sharp to the left, and crossing the canal again, proceed to Fort Gibson, three miles further on. It is better to take this road and to proceed direct to Palmyra over the turnpike, which is reached at Fort Gibson by turning sharp to the right, than to pass through East Palmyra itself, though it is possible to take the direct road, which is somewhat shorter, and proceed through East Palmyra. From Palmyra run out over Main Street, using the side-paths and side-walks where available, until the yellow mills are reached, thence cross the canal, turning to the right, and keeping to the left, follow the turnpike to Macedon. Macedon is twenty-one miles from Lyons, and from this point the route to Rochester is easily followed. The road is in good condition, and the rider will find no difficulty in keeping to the road from Macedon to Pittsford, and thence to Rochester itself.

Entering Rochester, ride in through Monroe Avenue to Clinton Street, thence to East Main Street, where the Powers House will be easily found. Rochester is another place where there is great interest taken in bicycling. There are several good routes in the vicinity of the city. One of these is to Elmira, the route being to return, as already described, to Pittsford; thence proceed to Canandaigua, to Reed's Corners, Gorham, Ferguson's Corners, Penn Yan, Milo, Dundee, Rock Stream, Reading Centre, Watkins, Montour Falls, Mill Port, Pine Valley, Horseheads, into Elmira. This is a run of one hundred miles. Another run is to leave Rochester and run out to Sodus Bay, passing through West Webster, Webster, Union Hill, Ontario Centre, Ontario, Williamson, Sodus, and Alton, to Sodus Bay, a distance of thirty-nine miles. Another interesting but much shorter run is to proceed from Rochester out through Genesee Street to the end of the street, thence following the road along the banks of the Genesee River, through Buttermilk Hill, to Scottsville. Thence proceeding to Spring Creek Hotel, which is twenty-one miles from Rochester, you will get a good dinner for fifty cents. After dinner it will be interesting to go over the State Fish-hatcheries. There are several different routes of greater or less distance by which you may return to Rochester.

EDWARD J. BROWN.--There are several kinds of chain-cleaners, but none of them are of very much use. An ordinary rag that is clean, used with some care, is quite as effective as anything else.

NOTE.--Map of New York city asphalted streets in No. 809. Map of route from New York to Tarrytown in No. 810. New York to Stamford, Connecticut in No. 811. New York to Staten Island in No. 812. New Jersey from Hoboken to Pine Brook in No. 813. Brooklyn in No. 814. Brooklyn to Babylon in No. 815. Brooklyn to Northport in No. 816. Tarrytown to Poughkeepsie in No. 817. Poughkeepsie to Hudson in No. 818. Hudson to Albany in No. 819. Tottenville to Trenton in No. 820. Trenton to Philadelphia in No. 821. Philadelphia in No. 822. Philadelphia-Wissahickon Route in No. 823. Philadelphia to West Chester in No. 824. Philadelphia to Atlantic City--First Stage in No. 825; Second Stage in No. 826. Philadelphia to Vineland--First Stage in No. 827; Second Stage in No. 828. New York to Boston--Second Stage in No. 829; Third Stage in No. 830; Fourth Stage in No. 831; Fifth Stage in No. 832; Sixth Stage in No. 833. Boston to Concord in No. 834. Boston in No. 835. Boston to Gloucester in No. 836. Boston to Newburyport in No. 837. Boston to New Bedford in No. 838. Boston to South Framingham in No. 839. Boston to Nahant in No. 840. Boston to Lowell in No. 841. Boston to Nantasket Beach in No. 842. Boston Circuit Ride in No. 843. Philadelphia to Washington--First Stage in No. 844; Second Stage in No. 845; Third Stage in No. 846; Fourth Stage in No. 847; Fifth Stage in No. 848. City of Washington in No. 849. City of Albany in No. 854; Albany to Fonda in No. 855; Fonda to Utica in No. 856; Utica to Lyons in No. 857.

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.

TIME-SAVING HINTS FOR THE AMATEUR.

When one has a quantity of aristo prints to mount which he does not intend to have burnished, he must be careful not to wet the face of the print, as it destroys the gloss imparted by the ferrotype plate. The usual method is to lay the print face down on a sheet of glass and paste it, cleaning the glass after each print has been mounted. A much simpler way is to take pieces of newspaper several sizes larger than the prints to be mounted, lay them in a pile on the table at the left hand, lay a print face down on the top piece of paper, paste it, and drop the piece of newspaper in the scrap-basket. Continue thus, using a fresh piece of paper for each print, till all the prints are mounted. The newspaper makes a good surface to paste on, as the print does not slip, as it does sometimes on the glass if not held very firmly. This way of pasting prints saves a great deal of time and trouble.

Before beginning to mount pictures trim each one and lay it on the card on which it is to be mounted. Some amateurs when mounting pictures always mark where the picture is to be placed on the card. This is not necessary, for the eye can be readily trained to see when a picture is straight if the picture itself is properly trimmed.

A simple arrangement for drying negatives is made by taking a stout wire, bending it in the middle at a right angle, and then bending the ends over to make short hooks, which clasp the edges of a plate. The wire should be bent close enough so that it is necessary to spring it a little to fit it to the plate. Put the wet side of the plate toward the wire, and set the plate on a shelf with the edge resting on the shelf, the wire supporting it somewhat after the fashion of an easel.

In filtering solutions, unless one has a fluted glass funnel, the filtering paper adheres to the glass and allows the liquid to pass through very slowly. A simple way to hurry the process is to fold the circle of filtering paper together, and then fold it from the centre back and forth like a fan. Crease the folds so that they will remain, and when put in the funnel there will be spaces between the glass and the paper through which the solution will run very quickly.

Films are quite inclined to curl both in the developing solution and in the fixing solution. This necessitates pushing them down into the fixing bath, and often causes much annoyance to the operator. If the hypo is put into a large glass tumbler the film may be curled round a bottle, and the bottle set in the tumbler of hypo, which will do away with any trouble of keeping the film down into the hypo. The bottle should be clean, and filled with water so that it will set flat in the tumbler.

SIR KNIGHT FRANK EVANS, JUN., 1116 Brown Street, Philadelphia, Pa., wishes to correspond with some of the Camera Club members. Sir Knight Frank says he has some good formulas which he would be pleased to send to the Camera Club. We shall be glad to have them and to publish them. Send full directions for use, please, and write on one side of the paper only.

SIR KNIGHT RAGEAN TUTTLE, Auburn, Col., asks where to get the photographic supplies mentioned in the ROUND TABLE. They may be bought of any reliable dealer in photographic goods.

LADY MANA M. MONAHAN, of Michigan, asks the address of a good school of photography. At Effingham, Ill., is a school of photography called Illinois College of Photography, where all the branches of photography are taught.

SIR KNIGHT HERSCHEL F. DAVIS wants to know the right exposure for a moonlight view, with largest stop, and if it will blur the plate to include the moon in the picture. From a half-hour to an hour is the usual time given for a moonlight view, according to the brightness of the light. The moon may be included in the picture, and will not have a halo; but the moon, instead of being round, will make a longer or shorter streak on the plate, according to the length of time it is exposed, as, of course, with the motion of the earth and moon, it will have traversed quite a space in the course of an hour.

* * * * *

A CHANCE FOR AN EXPERIMENT.

Have plants intelligence? Do they ever think? These are interesting questions that would have to be answered by the statement of an observer of the ways of pumpkins and melons. Says he: "Plants often exhibit something very much like intelligence. If a bucket of water, during a dry season, be placed a few inches from a growing pumpkin or melon vine, the latter will turn from its course, and in a day or two will get one of its leaves in the water."

We do not vouch for the truth of this, but if there be any young gardeners among the readers of the ROUND TABLE it might make an interesting experiment for them next summer when they are pursuing their avocation.

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CARDS

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* * * * *

A Swiss Wedding.

We have lived in Switzerland for five years, and have, of course, seen a great many weddings among the people, but never one of those grand affairs which are the talk of a small town for weeks. Last autumn, while we were in Winterthur, we learned that a wedding was to take place in the "Stadtkirche," bride and bridegroom coming from two of the best old families. As both were millionaires (in francs, not dollars), people expected something magnificent, so we decided to go to the church to see what it would be like.

There are no private church weddings in Switzerland. Every one who chooses may go to witness the ceremony, and the day we went the church was full of people of every description--ladies and gentlemen, as well as bareheaded peasants and children. It seems to me that one must have an enormous amount of courage to get married in Europe. The bride we saw had to submit to be stared at for a good hour in church, and even then she was not allowed to go off and rest.

When we had waited patiently for about half an hour the clock struck one, the church doors were thrown open, the organ pealed forth a wedding march, and in came the bride on the bridegroom's arm. They walked up to the beautifully decorated altar, in front of which were the seats reserved for the wedding guests, and here they separated, the bride going to the places on the left of the aisle, the groom to those on the right.

Then followed couple after couple, the ladies all in full evening dress, and each separated at the altar also. When they were all seated the minister preached a short sermon. Then the organ accompanied a song sung by the bride's sister. This was very beautiful, for there was also a violin obligato. Then the bridal couple stood up and were married, after which they again parted, going back to their seats. Some little children sang with the organ, and then the ceremony was over, but not the wedding.

There was a grand dinner which lasted hours and hours, for between each course there was acting, or tableaux, or dancing, and it was not until late in the evening that the bride could depart on her wedding journey, and very tired she must have been. Some people go for long drives in the afternoon, if the day is beautiful. In this case they all go bareheaded and in open carriages. The peasants cannot always afford to drive, so simply take long walks, some to the country, but the general preference is for the town. Here they walk, two by two, through all the principal streets, going in at some confectioner's for something to eat, and enjoying themselves greatly. These brides generally dress in black with white veils (or none at all), and artificial flowers in their hair. The girls are always confirmed in black dresses in German Switzerland, and the poor people wear the same dresses for their weddings. A very thrifty custom, is it not? Swiss weddings may be very nice to Swiss people, but I, for my part, prefer American ones, and if I ever marry, I hope it will be in my own dear country.

MARIAN GREENE, R.T.F.

* * * * *

Cryptography.

From very ancient times secret writing, known as cipher (from the Arabic _sifr_, "void"), or cryptography (from the Greek "hidden writing"), has been an important means of communication. In great national crises, where absolutely secret communication was necessary, it has saved much time and trouble. Charles I. wrote his famous letter to the Earl of Glamorgan in cipher, consisting of variously shaded and lengthened strokes of the pen. This letter was afterwards deciphered, and proved to be a concession to the Roman Catholics of Ireland, which, if generally known at the time, would have caused serious trouble. Lord Bacon also made frequent use of the cipher but even his ingenious methods have since been discovered.

There are many methods. Perhaps the most common is the variety found in one of the _Sherlock Holmes_ tales, where, in a seemingly plain, every-day sentence, words set at intervals give the hidden meaning. Poe's fascinating "Gold-Bug" is founded on the solution of one of Captain Kidd's cryptograms. One can readily construct a cipher requiring considerable effort to read. One of the best known for common purposes is the "Dial Cryptogram."

On a six-inch square of card-board draw a circle containing twenty-seven parts. In each write one of the capital letters of the alphabet, including &. Also cut out a circle of card-board which exactly fits the circle on the square. It should be edged by twenty-seven spaces containing the small letters of the alphabet, including &. Place this disk on the square and drive a pin through the centre. Your correspondent having a similar dial, you are ready to write. Suppose your message is the following:

_The box containing the famous Marston-Endive ciphers has at last been found in a secret drawer of the billiard-room wainscoting. Yours, Kelpee._

At the beginning you write the capital, and at the end the small letters which are opposite each other when you have arranged your dial. The inner circle is so placed, say, that _T_ and _m_ are opposite each other. Beginning your message with _T_, and closing with _m_ you would have:

_T. may vhq whgmubgbg& may zufhnl fuklmhg-ygxboy wbiaykl aul um eulm vyyg zhngx bg u lywkym xkupyp hz may vbeebukx-khhf pubglwhmbg&. rhnkl dyeiyy. m._

The stencil cryptogram is also a very good one, and is easily managed. Take two squares of paste-board, and at irregular intervals cut out narrow openings. Your correspondent being provided with one of the stencils, you place your own on a sheet of paper, and in the openings write your message. You then fill the intermediate spaces with any words that will connect the whole and make sense. Your correspondent places his stencil on the message--and the meaning is clear.

VINCENT V. M. BEEDE.

* * * * *

That Clever Kink.

Did you find out how much that nobleman was worth? The answer is:

£21,459. It is found by taking all of the letters in the passage quoted that are employed in the Roman notation--I, V, X, L, C, D, M--setting down their value in the Arabic notation, and adding all together.

* * * * *

The Music Rack.

Good Stories about Chopin.

Frédéric François Chopin, born 1809, died 1849, very early showed his sensitiveness to music, when only a baby prevailing upon his parents to allow him to share the lessons given to his eldest sister. Many tales are told of his performances as a child, but perhaps the best is the one related by Karasowski, his biographer, of his appearance at a public concert for the benefit of the poor when he was not quite nine years old. He was announced to play Gyrowetz's piano-forte concerto, and a few hours before he was put on a chair, and there dressed with more than ordinary care, being arrayed in a new jacket with an ornamented collar specially ordered for the occasion. When the concert was over Frédéric returned to his mother, who had not been present; she asked him what the public liked best. "Oh, mamma, everybody looked only at my collar!" Little Frédéric could do almost anything he wished with the piano, and all his life, when in happy moods, he was fond of weaving fanciful fairy tales and romances in music so beautiful and real that the listeners were able to follow and understand by the mere tones alone.

One evening his father was away, and there arose a tremendous hubbub among the pupils which the assistant master was quite powerless to quell. Frédéric came in, saw how things were, and good-naturedly sat down to the piano. Calling the other boys around him, he promised, if they kept quite still, to tell them a new and most thrilling story on the piano. This at once quieted them. Frédéric extinguished all the lights (for he was all his life fond of playing in the dark). Then he sat down to the piano and began his story.

He described robbers coming to a house, putting ladders to the windows, and then, frightened by a noise, rushing away into the woods. They go on and on, deeper and deeper into the wild recesses of the forest, and then they lie down under the trees and soon fall asleep. He went on, playing more and more softly, until he found that the sleep was not only in his story, but had overcome his listeners. On this he crept out noiselessly to tell his mother and sisters what had happened, and then went back with them to the room with a light. Every one of the boys was fast asleep. Frédéric returned to the piano, struck some noisy chords, the enchantment was over, and all the sleepers were rubbing their eyes and wondering what was the matter.

MEREDYTH JONES, R.T.K.

* * * * *

Kinks

NO. 1.--A STORY.

It was a rainy day. George, spoiling for something to do, said: "Say, Fred, here's a question you can't answer within five minutes, or ten either. Wan' to try?"

"Yep."

"A lad, carrying a page of that circular to the printer who printed it, stubbed his toe. It hurt him so that he went to the same place the 'three wise men of Gotham' did, and almost lost his life, because that which ruins many a field of wheat was in his drinking water, and he couldn't drink it. But he put all three together, ate it, and saved his life. What did he eat?"

* * * * *

NO. 2.--QUINARY.

"With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver! And folks who put me in a passion May find me ---- to another fashion."

In the above lines of a famous poem the word which fills the blank is the last syllable of the five words described below.

1. By bonnie braes in Scotland old, My notes are heard with love untold.

2. Tars in hours of well-earned leisure With twinkling feet would tread my measure.

3. A man in love with rocks and ore Can by my aid know Nature's lore.

4. I'm hollow, and of sable hue, And cousin to the chimney flue.

5. When sadly off the proper key, A friend in need you'll e'er find me.

* * * * *

NO. 3.--HEADS AND TAILS.

Behead to censure, and leave to cripple; to gather, and leave to heat. Curtail to grieve for, and leave to fasten; a beverage, leave to beat; a damsel, and leave to succor; a color, and leave an edge. Behead the latter, and leave a quarrel. Curtail sly artifice, and leave a sledge; confusion, and leave an infant. Behead derision, and leave a grain; a flower, and leave a fluid; to study, and leave to gain.

RITA E. BOARDMAN.

THE PUDDING STICK.

This Department is conducted in the interest of Girls and Young Women, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the subject so far as possible. Correspondents should address Editor.

Arabella's home is in a pretty little town twenty-five miles from New York. It is a place much liked by people who have children to bring up, for the schools are good, and the air is a tonic to breathe. Arabella told me last September that she must earn some money this year, and relieve her father, who had quite enough to do in paying her tuition bills. "If I can only make enough to buy my shoes and gloves and pay for my postage stamps and my car fares, I will be satisfied," the dear girl said. As this is her last year at Miss ----'s school, and the work is very exacting, I am afraid she cannot accomplish her end; but Arabella has perseverance in large measure, and she is a plucky girl, besides being graceful and charming.

It happens that Arabella dances very well, and some of the mothers in her neighborhood wished their small tots to learn the steps. There was no teacher to be had for such babies, and so when my favorite girlie said they might come to her on Saturday afternoons and she would show them how to use their little feet in moving to measure, the mothers were delighted. Arabella's brother Will was obliging enough to bring his violin and furnish the music, and the class has been a great success, with the result that Arabella's pocket-book is very nicely filled.

Another and perhaps a more agreeable field for money-making is one which Lilian G---- has found, or rather into which Lilian walked one summer morning. On her way to school she had to pass the house of two very dear old ladies, who lived by themselves, and pottered about in a pretty old-fashioned garden. Miss Betsey and Miss Annie were fond of the bright girls who two or three times a day walked past their door on the way to and from their classrooms, and they had their favorites among them, often stopping Lily, for instance, and giving her a flower or two to fasten into her buttonhole.

One morning Lilian observed that Miss Betsey groped a little and felt about with her stick, instead of stepping briskly around the garden as she used to do.

"My sister," Miss Annie confided to her, "is growing blind. We went to Dr. N---- yesterday, and he confirmed our fears. It is a cataract, and it cannot be operated on for a long time. What poor Betsey will do I don't know, for reading has been her great occupation and her one pleasure. I cannot read to her, for it hurts my throat to read aloud."

"Let me come every afternoon, dear Miss Annie," said Lilian. "I'll read to Miss Betsey from four to five every day, and on Saturdays I'll come twice--an hour in the morning and another in the afternoon. I can do it just as _easily_!"

Miss Annie's face lightened. "You sweet child!" she said. "If you will come, and your mother will let you come, Betsey and I will pay you two dollars a week for reading to us both."

The rest of this chapter must go over until next week.

MARGARET E. SANGSTER.

The beauty of a bride's trousseau Is something that it need not lose, If only maid and laundress know, That Ivory is the soap to use.

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OH, TOMMY HAD A HOBBY-HORSE, ITS GAIT WAS SMOOTH AND FAIR, TILL UNDER IT HE PLACED SOME STICKS, AND MADE IT BUCK AND RAIR!

* * * * *

THE STRANGE STORY OF A RING.

It is stated upon what appears to be good authority that in one of the parks in the Spanish capital city of Madrid a magnificent ring hangs by a silken cord about the neck of the statue of the Maid of Almodma, the patron saint of Madrid. This ring, though set with diamonds and pearls, is nevertheless entirely unguarded. The police pay no attention to it, nor is there any provision made for watching it by special officers, because it is not believed that any thief, however daring, would venture to appropriate it to his own use; and when the history of the ring is considered, it is hardly to be wondered at that a superstitious people prefer to give it a wide berth. According to the story that is told of it, the ring was made for King Alfonso XII., the father of the present boy King of Spain. Alfonso presented it to his cousin Mercedes on the day of their betrothal. How short her married life was all know; and on her death the King presented the ring to his grandmother, Queen Christina. Shortly afterwards Queen Christina died, and the King gave the ring to his sister, the Infanta del Pilar, who died within the month following. The ring was then given to the youngest daughter of the Duc de Montpensier. In less than three months she died, and Alfonso, by this time fearing that there was some unlucky omen connected with the bauble, put it away in his own treasure-box. In less than a year the King himself died, and it was deemed best to put the ring away from all the living. Hence it was hung about the neck of the bronze effigy of the Maid of Almodma, where it appears to be as safe as though surrounded by a cordon of police.

* * * * *

A CURIOUS REQUEST.

In a Scottish church in Argyleshire the minister one Sunday morning astonished some strangers in the congregation by requesting the young men in the rear pews to smoke, "because the midges were so thick the services could not go on unless they were smoked out." The young men acceded to the request, and soon the obnoxious insects were driven away. It is said that this same clergyman once gave out a notice that upon a certain evening service would be held in the church, "weather and midges permitting."

* * * * *

YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD.

Last year my fam'ly went abroad an' travelled all aroun', An' saw 'most all ther' wuz to see in ev'ry for'n town. They didn' stop much more'n a day or two in any place, But jus' rushed on as if they'd been a-runnin' in a race. They took me 'long, and must ha' made me walk a thousand miles Through gal'ries and palaces of a hundred diff'rent styles. They wouldn' stop at toy-stores, or take me out to see The soldiers drillin' in the park, or th' wild m'nageriee. Ther' wuzn't any fun fer me in all that sort o' thing-- 'Cause, what'd I care 'bout lookin' at th' pictures o' the king? There _was_ one place in Switz'rland where I _did_ have some fun (If 't hadn't ben fer ol' Loocern I dunno what I'd done!). The fam'ly'd all gone off ter climb a mountain in a train, An' left me with the hotel man 'til they got back again. I went out in the garden, in the afternoon, to play, An' found another boy out there--been lef' behind, same way. He said he wuz an English boy--an' I said mighty quick, "_I'm an American boy, young kid, no English boy can lick!_" So then he got to boastin' 'bout the things th't he could do, An' said his school wuz bigger'n mine, which I said wuzn't true. He said he had an uncle was a nobleman--a Duke; I tol' him 's how them fam'ly things was jus' a kind o' fluke. "_Well, England's got more soldiers than th' Americans ever had!_" "_But we can lick 'em ev'ry time!_" That made him awful mad. "_An' England's got a lot of ships, an' guns, an' cannon-balls...._" "_But you 'ain't got nothin' half so good as our Niag'ra Falls!_" "_You don't have 's many holidays_," went on the little fool; "_On Guy Fawks day American boys all have to go to school._" So I ran up an' said, "_You red-coat British kid_," says I, "_There's one day you don't celebrate, an' that's the Fourth of July!_" An' by that time I'd got so mad with all his monkey-trickin', I jus' sailed in an' guv that English boy a good sound lickin'.

ALBERT LEE.

* * * * *

A BLACK BEAR MET A GRAY FOX, AND TO HIM REMARKED, "GOOD-DAY, IT SEEMS TO ME YOU'RE RATHER YOUNG TO BE SO VERY GRAY."

End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, April 14, 1896, by Various