CHAPTER XIV.

BONNY'S INVENTION, AND HOW IT WORKED.

Bonny walked aft, exchanged a few words with Captain Duff, and then disappeared in the cabin, where he remained for some minutes. When he again came on deck he bore a box in which was a lighted lamp provided with a bright reflector. Only one side of the box was open, and this space the lad carefully shielded with his hat. The sloop was just entering Colros Passage, between Vashar Island and the mainland, and was nearer the western shore than the other.

Holding his box as far down as he could reach over the landward side of the vessel, Bonny turned its opening toward the shore, and allowed the bright light to stream from it for a single second. Then by quickly reversing the box the light was made to disappear. A moment later it was shown again, this time with a piece of red glass held in front of the lamp. This red light, after appearing for a single second, was also made to vanish, and another quick flash of white light took its place. A minute or so later the whole operation was repeated, and the white, red, and white signal was again flashed to the wooded shore. At the fourth time of displaying the signal it was answered by two white flashes from the shore.

There was a moment of suspense, and then Bonny exclaimed, in a low tone, "Great Scott! They're after us!"

Extinguishing his light, he again dived below, this time into the forecastle. When he reappeared he bore the float and lighted lantern already described. Alaric had noticed this queer contrivance the day before, and while wondering at its object, had amused himself by idly scribbling on a smooth shingle that he found inside the tub. Now this same shingle was hastily lashed to the lantern, and the whole affair was launched overboard. At the same time the sloop was put about, and leaving this decoy light floating and bobbing behind her as though it were in a boat, she sped away toward the eastern side of the channel.

When Bonny rejoined Alaric at the lookout station he asked, with a chuckle: "What do you think of that for a scheme, Rick? It's my own invention, and I've been longing for a chance to try it every trip; but this is the very first time we have needed anything of the kind. I only hope the light won't get blown out, or the whole business get capsized before the beaks capture it. My! how I'd like to see 'em creeping up to it, and hear their remarks when they find out what it really is!"

"What does all this flashing of lights and setting lanterns adrift mean, anyway?" asked Alaric, who was much puzzled by what had just taken place.

"Means there's a revenue-boat of some kind waiting for us in the channel, and that we are dodging him. The lights I showed made our private signal, and asked if the coast was clear. Skookum John didn't get on to 'em at first, or maybe he wasn't in a safe place for answering. When he saw us and got the chance, though, he flashed two lights to warn us of trouble. Three would have meant 'All right, come ahead'; but two was a startler. It was the first time we've had that signal; also it's the first chance I've had to test my invention."

Ever since leaving the dancing light Bonny had not been able to take his eyes from it, so anxious was he to discover whether or not it served the purpose for which it was intended. It grew fainter and smaller as the sloop gained distance on her new course. Then all at once it seemed to rise from the water, and an instant later disappeared.

"They've got it, and lifted it aboard," cried Bonny, delightedly; and in his exultation he called out, "The beaks have doused the glim, Cap'n Duff!"

"Douse your tongue, ye swab, and keep your eyes p'inted for'ard!" was the reply muttered out of the after darkness.

"What an old bear he is!" muttered Alaric, indignantly.

"Yes; isn't he?--a regular old sea bear? But I don't mind him any more than I would a rumble of imitation thunder. I say, though, Rick, isn't this jolly exciting?"

"Yes," admitted the other, "it certainly is."

"And you want me to quit it for some stupid shore work that'll make a fellow think he's got about as much life in him as a clam?"

"No, I don't; for I am certain there are just as exciting things to be done on shore as at sea, and if you'll only promise to come with me, I'll promise to find something for you to do as exciting as this, and lots honester."

"I've a mind to take you up," said Bonny, "and I would if I thought you had any idea how hard it is to find a job of any kind. You haven't, though, and because you got this berth dead easy you think you'll have the same luck every time. But we must look sharp now for another light from Skookum John."

By this time the sloop had again tacked, and was headed diagonally for the western shore.

"Who is Skookum John?" asked Alaric.

"Skookum? Why, he's our Siwash runner, who is always on the lookout for us, and keeps us posted."

"What is a Siwash?"

"Well, if you aren't ignorant! 'Specially about languages. Why, Siwash is Chinook for Indian. There's his light now! See? One, two, three. Good enough! We've given 'em the slip once more, and everything is working our way."

As it grew lighter Bonny pointed out the now distant masts of the cutter they had so successfully passed a short time before, and said, with a cheerful grin: "There's the old kettle that thought she could clip the _Fancy_'s wings, and bring her to with a round turn."

Captain Duff laid all the blame of their late arrival on poor Alaric.

"If it hadn't been for your fool antics of two nights ago," he said, "we'd made this port a good hour afore sun this morning. You're as wuthless as ye look, and ye look to be the most wuthless young swab I ever had aboard ship, barring one. He was another just such white-faced, white-handed, mealy-mouthed specimen as you be. Couldn't eat ship's victuals till I starved him to it, and finally got me into the wust scrape of my life. Now I shouldn't be one mite surprised if you'd put me into another hole mighty nigh as deep. So you want to quit your nonsense and 'tend strictly to business, or I'll make ye jump. D'ye hear?"

Alaric acknowledged that he heard, and then walked forward to light the galley fire.

The sloop rounded a long point and came to anchor in a wooded cove, apparently as wild as though they were its discoverers. A couple of Chinamen, who had evidently camped there all night, waited to greet their countrymen on the beach, to which Bonny at once began to transfer his passengers, a few at a time, in the dinghy. As fast as they were landed they were led back into the woods and started toward Tacoma, which was but a few miles distant.

Alaric managed to get his canvas bag on deck unseen by Captain Duff, and slip it into the dinghy as the boat was about to make its last trip.

"Hide it on shore for me, Bonny," he said.

"All right; I will if you'll promise not to skip until we've had another talk on the subject."

"Of course I promise; for I'm not going without you."

"Then perhaps you won't go at all," laughed Bonny.

So the bag was taken ashore and concealed in a thicket a little to one side, and Bonny came back to prepare breakfast, for which Alaric had the water already boiling.

When this meal was nearly ready, and as the boys were sniffing hungrily at the odors of coffee and frying meat, Captain Duff suddenly appeared on deck.

"Go up on that point, you foremast hand--I can't remember your thundering name--and watch the cutter while me and the mate eats. After that one of us'll relieve ye. Ef she moves, or even shows black smoke, you let me know, d'ye hear?"

Alaric managed to secure a couple of hard biscuits with which to comfort his lonely watch, and then Bonny set him ashore.

Picking up his bag and carrying it with him, the boy clambered to the point, and selecting a place from which he could plainly see the cutter, began his watch, at the same time munching his dry biscuit with infinite relish. Much of the water intervening between him and the cutter was hidden from view by nearby undergrowth, and the necessity for scanning it never occurred to him.

After a while Bonny came to relieve him and allow him to go to breakfast.

"Have you really made up your mind to desert the ship?" asked the young mate, noticing that Alaric had his bag with him.

"Yes, I really have," answered the other, "and you will come with me, won't you, Bonny?"

"I don't know," replied the latter, undecidedly. "Somehow I can't make it seem right to desert Captain Duff and leave him in a fix. Seems to me we ought to stay with him until he gets back to Victoria, anyway. Besides, I'd lose my wages, and there must be nearly thirty dollars due me by this time. But you go along to your breakfast, and after that we'll talk it all over. Haven't seen anything, have you?"

"No, not a sign, but-- Hello! What's that?"

"Caught, as sure as you're born!" cried Bonny, in a tone of suppressed excitement.

Then the two lads, peering through the bushes, watched a boat, flying the flag of the United States Revenue Marine and filled with sturdy bluejackets, enter the cove and dash alongside the smuggler _Fancy_.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

A HOMELY WEED WITH INTERESTING FLOWERS.

BY W. HAMILTON GIBSON,

AUTHOR OF "HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS," "SHARP EYES," "PASTORAL DAYS," ETC.

The recent article from my pen on the "Riddle of the Bluets," and which showed the important significance of its two forms of blossoms, suggests that a few more similar expositions of the beautiful mysteries of the common flowers which we meet every day in our walks, and which we claim to "know" so well, may serve to add something to the interest of our strolls afield. It is scarcely fair to assert that familiarity can breed contempt in our relations to so lovely an object as a flower, but certain it is that this every-day contact or association, especially with the wild things of the wood, meadow, and way-side, is conducive to an apathy which dulls our sense to their actual attributes of beauty. Many of these commonplace familiars of the copse and thicket and field are indeed like voices in the wilderness to most of us. We forget that the "weed" of one country often becomes a horticultural prize in another, even as the mullein, for which it is hard for the average American to get up any enthusiasm, and which is tolerated with us only in a worthless sheep pasture, flourishes in distinction in many an English or Continental garden as the "American velvet plant."

The extent of our admiration often depends upon the relative rarity of the flower rather than upon its actual claims to our appreciation. The daisy which whitens our meadows--the "pesky white-weed" of the farmer--we are perfectly willing to see in the windrows of the scythe or tossed in the air by the fork of the hay-maker. The meed of our appreciation of the single blossom becomes extremely thin when spread over a ten-acre lot. How rarely do we see a bouquet of daisies on a country table? And yet, strange inconsistency! the marguerite of our goodwife's window-garden, almost identical with the daisy and not one whit prettier, is a prize, because it came from the "florist's," and cost twenty-five cents, with five cents extra for the pot.

A certain thrifty granger of the writer's acquaintance was recently converted from the error of his attitude toward the "tarnal weeds and brush." He was one of the tribe of blind, misguided vandals who had always deemed it his first duty "after hayin'" to invade with his scythe all the adjacent roadside, to "tidy things up," reducing to most unsightly untidiness that glorious wild garden of August's floral cornucopia, that luxuriant tangle of purple eupatorium, the early asters, goldenrod, vervains, wild-carrot, and meadow-rue.

He was converted in the sanctuary, where one August Sabbath he beheld by the side of the pulpit, dignified by a large beautiful vase, a great bouquet of this very tall purple thoroughwort, meadow-rue, and wild-carrot of his abomination, and which had actually fallen before his scythe on the evening previous. "Well, there!" he exclaimed; "I didn't realize they _was_ so pretty!"

The beauty of the commonplace often requires the aid of the artist as its interpreter, a fact which Browning realized when he expressed, through Fra Lippo Lippi:

"We're made so that we love First when we see them painted, things which we have passed Perhaps a hundred times, nor cared to see."

An illustration of the truth of this axiom was afforded in a recent incident in my experience. Sitting at the open window of my country studio one summer day, engaged in making a portrait of a common weed, a friendly farmer, chancing "across lots," seeing me at work, sauntered up to "pass the time o' day." As he leaned on the window-sill his eye fell upon the drawing before me.

"My!" he exclaimed, "but ain't that pooty?"

"What!" I retorted, "and will _you admit_ that this drawing of a _weed_ is pretty?"

"Yes, your _draft_ thar is pooty, but you artist fellers alliz makes 'em look pootier 'n they _ought_ to."

So much for the mere attributes of manifest outward beauty without regard to consideration of "botany" or the structural beauty of the flowers. The "botanist" finds beauty everywhere, even among the homeliest of Flora's hosts. But in the light of the "new botany," which recognizes the insect as the important affinity of the flower--the key to its various puzzling features of color, form, and fragrance--every commonest blossom which we thought we had "known" all our lives, and every homely weed scarce worth our knowing, now becomes a rebuke, and offers us a field of investigation as fresh and promising as is offered by the veriest rare exotic of the conservatory; more so, indeed, because these latter are strangers in a strange land, and divorced from their ordained insect affinities. The plebeian daisy now becomes a marvel of a flower indeed--five hundred wonderful little mechanisms packed together in a single golden disk. The red clover refuses to recognize us now unless properly introduced by that "burly bumblebee" with which its life is so strangely linked.

The barn-yard weeds need no longer be considered uninteresting and commonplace, because their mysteries have not yet been discovered, and I can do no better in my present chapter than to select one of their number and redeem it from its hitherto lowly place among them--one of the homeliest of them all, and whose blossoms are scarce noticed by any one except a botanist.

In my initial illustration is shown a sketch of the Figwort, or scrophularia, a tall spindling weed, with rather fine luxuriant leaves, it is true, but with a tall, curiously branching spray of small insignificant purplish-olive flowers, with not even a perfume, like the mignonette, to atone for its plainness. But it has an _odor_ if not a perfume, and it has a nectary which secretes the beads of sweets for its pet companion insects, which in this instance do not happen to be bees or butterflies, but most generally wasps of various kinds, as these insects are not so particular as to the quality of their tipple as bees are apt to be. But the figwort has found out gradually through the ages that _wasps_ are more serviceable in the cross-fertilization of its flowers than other insects, and it has thus gradually modified its shape, odor, and nectar especially to these insects.

Let us then take a careful look at these queer little homely flowers, and for the time being consider them as mere devices--first, to insure the visit of an insect, and second, to make that insect the bearer of the pollen from one blossom to the stigma of another. Here we see a flower with three distinct welcomes on three successive days.

A FLOWER WITH THREE WELCOMES.

The flower bud usually opens in the morning, and shows a face as at A, which must be fully understood by looking at the side section shown at A¹.

The anthers and pollen are not yet ripe, but the stigma is ready, and now guards the doorway. To-morrow morning we shall see a new condition of things at that doorway, as seen at B and B¹. The stigma has now bent down out of the way, while two anthers have unfolded on their stalks and now shed their pollen at the threshold. The third morning, or perhaps even sooner, the other pair come forward, and we see the opening of the blossom as at C. Blossoms in all these three conditions are to be found on this cluster.

A small wasp is now seen hovering about the flowers, and we must now turn our attention to him as seen in Figs. 1, 2, and 3. The insect alights, we will assume, on a blossom of the second day (Fig. 1), clinging with all his feet, and thrusting his tongue into the heads of nectar shown at A¹ and B¹. He now brings his breast or thorax, or perhaps the under side of his head, against the pollen, and is thoroughly dusted with it. Leaving the blossom, we see him in flight, as at Fig. 2, and very soon he is seen to come to a freshly opened flower, which he sips as before. The pollen is thus pushed against the projecting stigma, as shown at Fig. 3, and thus, one by one, the flowers are cross-fertilized.

The stigma, after receiving pollen, immediately bends downward and backward, as shown in B¹, to give place to the ripening anthers, and shortly after the last pair of them have shed their pollen, the blossom, having then fulfilled its functions, falls off, as shown at D. This may be on the afternoon of the third day, or not until the fourth. If not visited by insects it may chance to remain the longer time; but more than one tiny wasp gets his head into such a blossom, and is surprised with a tumble, his weight pulling the blossom from its attachment.

The result of that pollen upon the stigma is quickly seen in the growing ovary or pod, which enlarges rapidly on the few succeeding days, as in E.

Many species of hornets and wasps, large and small, are to be seen about the figwort blooms, occasionally bees, frequently bumblebees, which usually carry away the pollen on the under side of their heads.

Who shall any longer refer to the figwort as an "uninteresting weed"?

GRANDFATHER'S ADVENTURES.

CALIFORNIA GOLD-HUNTERS.

"It seems to me, Grandpop, that you have had every kind of exciting experience except a fight with Indians," said Ralph Pell.

Captain Sterling laughed. "Don't be so sure that I haven't had that kind thrown in too by way of variety, my boy," answered the old sailor.

Ralph was all agog in an instant. "There, Grandfather, I know you must have a story to tell about them, or you wouldn't answer me in that way; so please tell it, and I'll learn to box the compass backwards to-morrow to repay you," cried the eager lad.

"All right, Ralph," was the pleased rejoinder; "it's a bargain. And now for my yarn:

"When the California gold fever set the world aflame 'way back in '49, I caught the craze, and determined to dig a big fortune out of old Mother Earth in short order, instead of reefing topsails in winter gales of wind and chewing upon salt junk for a living; so I shipped in a big vessel named the _San Juan_, that had loaded mining-tools for a cargo, and set sail for the Golden Gate.

"Three months after leaving New York we dropped anchor off San Francisco; but it was not then the great city of to-day, with thousands of noble buildings, paved streets, and electric lights, but a town of tents and hovels thrown together on either side of rough wagon-tracks, and these streets were only here and there faintly lit up at night by the sickly glow of smoky lamps and tallow candles that shone out from the open doorways and the turned-back flaps of dirty canvas huts.

"Although all hands had considerable money due them in the way of wages, it was counted as nothing compared with the bags of gold nuggets that we confidently expected to possess later on, so we all dropped overboard one night while the officers were asleep, and swam ashore. Each man had carefully retained a portion of the advance money paid to him before sailing, in order to buy a shovel, pickaxe, and provisions, and as the miners' stores always remained open until late at night, we supplied ourselves with what we required immediately after landing, and by sunrise were well on our way into the interior, safe from pursuit and capture as deserters.

"Our outfit was the most meagre, but it had taken every cent we had to purchase it, for pickaxes and shovels were five dollars each, and the provisions, which were of the poorest quality, were paid for at a corresponding price.

"There was no mistaking the way to the gold regions, for the trail was defined clearly enough in the way of broken-down and abandoned wagons of every variety, while small straggling parties and large organized companies either passed or were passed by us every few miles. Everybody and everything was colored with the magic suggestion of gold; even the atmosphere seemed to taste of the precious yellow metal, and there was but one thought, one ambition, one incessant subject of conversation from the gray-haired man to the youngster trotting along by his side, and that was _gold! gold! gold!_

"At last, after many hardships, we reached the gold country, where thousands of men, representing almost every nationality, were feverishly digging into the soil, sifting the sands of river-beds, and picking into the rocky sides of mountains, extracting the wealth that had been zealously hoarded by nature since the beginning of the world.

"It would make too long a story if I attempted to tell you of our work, our hopes, disappointments, and success. From one cause or another we kept separating, some to plunge deeper into the fastnesses of the mountains, some to associate with new partners, and others to try their fortunes alone. At last I found myself paired off with a man who had been my chum on board the _San Juan_--a manly young fellow, as brave as he was clever, and with whom I shared all the danger, trouble, and fortune that were met with during the time that we remained in the country.

"We tried every kind of work in the way of digging, washing, and searching for pockets in the rocks, treasuring our little finds carefully, and holding on to them as long as we could; but living of the cheapest kind was expensive, and in spite of all our frugality the store of gold in the leather belt-bags that we carried strapped about us would ebb and flow about as regularly as the ocean tides. Often would we work from sunrise to sunset, and then find ourselves rewarded by only just enough gold dust to exchange at the sutler's tent for a little flour and a piece of bacon on which to make our supper, while perhaps the men on either side of us had 'struck it rich,' and before our covetous eyes would exhibit a handful of yellow lumps or a tin cup brimming to the top with golden flecks of metal.

"One night as we sat rather disconsolate on a ledge of rock just outside the cave in which we kept house, and which we had dug for ourselves in the side of a steep hill, Jim Richards, my partner, exclaimed:

"'Luck's against us here, Sterling, and I'm for cutting loose and trying it back in the mountains, where we won't find ten men to every picayune bit of metal. What do you say?'

"'That's all right about the men part of it, Richards,' I answered, 'but how about Indians? They don't trouble us down here because we're too many for them; but wouldn't they make things rather lively for us back there?'

"We talked the subject over pretty thoroughly, and at last decided to risk our scalps. In the morning we parted with our entire stock of gold in exchange for two rifles, some ammunition and provisions; then shouldering our picks, we struck out for the range of mountains off in the eastward, whose summits could be faintly seen through the blue haze that enveloped them.

"For several weeks we worked unmolested, seeing nothing of the hostile red men; and it seemed that fortune, having become tired of remaining in hiding, at last condescended to show us her fickle, smiling face, for we discovered quite a few modest pockets, from which we took varying numbers of pure golden lumps, and our weighty, bulging belts became at times the subject of our laughing complaints. But the weather had commenced to grow cold, and we were warned by it that winter was approaching and that our work must soon end. While fortune lasted, however, we were reluctant to leave, and kept postponing our departure from day to day. At last one morning Jim came creeping back within the shelter that we had made, telling me to throw off my blanket and look out. The ground was covered with a white mantle, and the flakes continued to fall. There was only one thing to do, and that was to be done quickly. Before all landmarks were gone we were to get out of the mountains, and make all haste to the mining camp twenty miles away. We left our tools behind us, and rapidly made our way down the valley that emerged into a plain, and ten miles across which our old camp was to be reached.

"As we rounded a spur of rock, Jim, who was in the lead, stopped so suddenly that I pitched up against him. There was no necessity to ask for an explanation. Not more than fifty yards ahead of us several Indian tepees were erected, and from around the poles at their tops smoke was curling, showing that the savages were keeping warm beside the fires kindled within the tents.

"We walked backward until the spur of rock was again between us and our foes, and with fast-beating hearts discussed the situation. There was no escape from the valley except through the pass in which the Indians were camped. If we turned back, it was to die of cold and want in the mountains. Jim crept forward and peered around the ledge. Finding that the redskins were yet within their tepees, we decided on the daring plan of stealing past them and gaining the plain, which we could see a short distance beyond, trusting that the snow would not allow our foot-falls to be heard.

"Holding our breath, we commenced our hazardous way through the little village. We had reached the last tepee undiscovered, when a chorus of yelps told us that the Indian dogs had at last detected our presence. As we broke into a mad run a series of savage war-whoops was all the knowledge we wanted that the fiends were after us.

"'Get out on the plain!' yelled Jim. 'It's our best chance!'

"We made the best of our little start, covering the snow-carpeted ground like hunted deer, and reached the open just as a flight of arrows struck all about us. Suddenly Jim stopped, wheeled about, and discharged his rifle, toppling over the foremost Indian. I was about to follow suit when my companion cried out to me to hold my fire until he loaded, for if the redskins knew that both guns were empty they would come on and cut us down while we were helpless, whereas being armed with bows and arrows only, they were at a disadvantage, and could be held off if we played our game skilfully.

"Never will I forget that ten-mile retreat over the field of snow, holding the bloodthirsty crew at a distance as they circled about us with cries of rage, trying every artifice known to their warfare to get us in their power. More than one reckless warrior went down in the attempts they made, and it was not until the camp was almost reached that they left us.

"'Sterling,' said Jim to me that night, as we sat as guests within the shelter of a miner's hut, 'I think I've got enough of gold-hunting. I'm going back to the States.'

"'Jim,' I replied, 'you're not going alone.'"

A BRAVE YOUNG SCHOOL-TEACHER.

In a town in the Rockies, a short while ago, a young girl, who taught in the little school-house of the place, performed an act of heroism worthy of the highest commendation. One of her small scholars had a pet antelope, a sweet, docile, little creature, that followed its mistress to school, remaining quietly near the door during class hours. One day it lay as usual near the door, lazily basking in the sunlight, while the children pored over their studies. Suddenly there came a light thud and a scream. There, with his fore feet crushing the little creature, crouched a big mountain-lion, savagely switching his tail from side to side, and eying the children. The little tots, screaming wildly, ran to the furthest corner, huddling there in a heap.

The teacher, although pale with fear, did not for a moment lose her nerve, but searched the room for some means of rescuing her little scholars. Hanging on the wall near the door was a shot-gun, and she determined to obtain it, although to do so she had to pass the lion. Summoning all her courage, she advanced down the room, facing the savage beast, who stopped tearing at the antelope and growled ominously. Nothing deterred in her purpose, however, she passed by him and took the gun from off the pegs. The lion turned his head, and curiously watched her as she retreated up the room again. The gun being empty, it was necessary to return to her desk to procure some shells and load it. Savage with blood, the lion left the antelope, and prepared to spring upon the group of children. He made one leap over the benches, which landed him in front of the teacher's desk, and his eyes catching sight of her, he changed his purpose, and swinging around, was about to spring upon her. Noticing this, the teacher, who had been watching for a good opportunity to shoot, instead of waiting for him to make the leap, walked quickly up to him, and before the astonished brute could recover she placed the muzzle of the gun in his ear and pulled both triggers. The recoil knocked her over, and she fell to the floor senseless. The gun did its work, however, for the lion's head was almost blown to pieces, and the brute lay a quivering heap on the floor. The children ran screaming down the road, and men hastened to the school-house, to find the brave girl recovered, but wildly trembling. After learning the circumstances, they seized a chair, and seating the girl in it, carried her, with the dead lion, through the town, cheering and praising her brave act.

FREDDY'S FIRST-OF-APRIL RESOLUTIONS.

"One by one our good old customs are going to the wall," Said little Fred, "and pretty soon we'll have none left at all; So I'm going to keep All-Fools' day, just because I think we should Not idly let it lapse into innocuous desuetude.

"I'm going to see that father gets a paper one year old; The napkins I am going to pin up tight in every fold; The sugar I shall mix with salt, and see that Bridget bakes Some batter-covered flannel disks to serve for griddle-cakes.

"A purse upon the sidewalk then quite unobserved I'll fling, And when folks stoop to pick it up I'll yank it with a string. I've cut a lot of strips of cloth to pin to passers-by, And every pompous man I see I'll make look like a guy.

"Beneath a battered ancient 'tile' I'll slyly place a brick To stub the toes of thoughtless men who give a passing kick; I'm going to tell the teacher a new boy has come to school, And when he asks the pupil's name I'll call out 'April Fool!'

"I think a little nonsense of this harmless home-made kind Is just as good for growing boys as some that's 'more refined,' Affected by the modern race of little school-boy prigs Who look with scorn on tag and tops and kites and Guinea pigs."

H. G. PAINE.

BY GASTON V. DRAKE.

X.--FROM JACK TO BOB.

MOUNTAIN HOUSE, _July_ --, 189-.

My Dear Bob,--We fellers had that mass-meeting to complain about the eagle-eyed head-waiter that won't let us take all the nuts and raisins we want out of the hotel dining-room, but the proprietor won't discharge him because he doesn't dare to. The trouble is the head-waiter isn't like other head-waiters you meet. Head-waiting isn't his regular business. He's a college man and he pays for his education with what he makes here in the summer-time, and as he's centre rush in his college football team the proprietor's afraid of him. I knew the minute I saw him that he was something of that sort, because his hair reaches down over his collar, and he said something about me in Latin once; and I heard him tell one of his college mates that came through here on a bicycle that the place wasn't perfect. "They haven't any nats or merskeeters," he said, "but it swarms with small boys that's worse."

He isn't so bad though when he isn't on duty. He told me a lot about things you learn studying one day when I met him coming down the road. He'd been out taking a little exercize on a bicycle. I had my wheel out too, and we rode along a little ways together, and he asked me if I was going to college. I told him of course I was, and he wanted to know where, and I told him I didn't know, but I thought I'd go to Yale if she didn't stop winning everything there was going. I want to be on the winning side, I said. That's a good idea, he said, everybody ought to want to do that, but of course everybody couldn't, because if everybody was on the winning side nobody'd be on the losing side, which would be a bad thing for the world. He's a queer fellow, the way he looks at things. He said bicycling up hill was always more fun than coasting, because when you got to the top of the hill you were glad it was over, while when you had coasted to the foot of it you were sorry it was all over. It's the same way in football, he said. There's more fun in getting beaten in a stiff game than winning in a walkover. And then he told me to always take a man of my own size.

"Why don't you?" said I. "I'm not a man of your size, but you've been fighting me about those nuts and raisins I take away."

He only laughed when I said that, and then he said he took 'em away from me because he wanted me to be a man of his size some day, which I wouldn't be if I eat so many nuts and raisins, and I guess he's right, and I told him I'd quit. When I got back to the hotel I told that Chicago boy about it, and he said he didn't take any stock in head-waiters, and he wasn't going to quit for ten of 'em, but that night he wished he had, because just to be brave as he put it, he slipped three bananas, two oranges, six bunches of raisins, two handsful of nuts, and a peach into his blouse, but the head-waiter caught him and took him straight to his Pop. His Pop turned him upside down, took him by the heels and gave him a shake, and all the things tumbled out on the floor, so that now he's not allowed to have anything of the kind at all even in the dining-room.

Sandboys likes the head-waiter very much, and says there isn't very much use in boys trying to fool him, because it hadn't been very long since he was a boy himself and he's up to all their tricks, and his game of football is the finest that ever was. One time two years ago when he was in school his team had been forced back almost to the goal line, Sandboys says, when all of a sudden he got the ball and ran half way down the field with it before he was stopped, and then, with both his own and the other eleven sitting on his back he crawled the rest of the way and made a touch-down and won a goal.

"I don't see how that could be though," I said.

"Neither do I," said Sandboys, "but that's what he did."

Unfortunately Sandboys forgot what school it was he went to, and the head-waiter when I asked him about it, only laughed and said Sandboys was a great man.

There was a slight-of-hand man here last week doing tricks in the parlor, and I tell you he was fine. He could do anything with anything. He asked if some little boy in the audience wouldn't come up on the platform and let him see if he couldn't find some money in his ears. That made everybody laugh, and I thought I'd go up, but I wish now I hadn't. If I'd only gone outside and shook my head I'd have been ten dollars in, because when I got up on the platform he grabbed hold of my ear and got ten silver dollars out of it. I never was more surprised in my life, and Pop thought he'd be smart and have fun with the man. He got up and said he recognized those ten dollars by the feathers on the eagles on the back of 'em. He said he'd left them under his pillow the night before, and he supposed that they'd slipped into my ear when I climbed over into his bed. The man said all right he could have 'em, and when Pop went up to get 'em they'd disappeared into the piano, and when he went there to get 'em they'd disappeared into Sandboys' pocket, and so on until Pop gave up chasing them, and said the prestidigitter could keep 'em for himself. Everybody thought that was a great joke on Pop, and he got very red, but later on when the man passed his hat around for people to put quarters and dimes in for him, Pop told him there was a four dollar bill in my eye he could have. This made everybody laugh, which put Pop in a better humor, and I saw him give the man two dollars and a half later on.

Besides this there hasn't been anything going on here that's worth writing about. I asked Sandboys to give me some kind of an idea about what to tell you that would be interesting, and he asked me why I didn't tell you about the fourteen-pound pickerel I caught in a lake last week. Why, I said, I didn't catch any fourteen-pound pickerel. What difference does that make? he asked. You can tell him about the one you would have caught if you'd caught it, which I think was rather funny. Somehow or other I'm beginning to believe that Sandboys has lots of things happen to him that never happened, and I'm going to be careful about what I believe. I asked the proprietor about that bear story he told, and the Colonel said he'd never heard of it, and all the satisfaction I could get out of Sandboys later was that the Colonel was like all very prosperous personages. His memory was short.

Give my love to anybody you think would like to have it, and if you meet any Kings or Queens don't forget to talk right up to 'em like a real American.

Yours affectionately,

JACK.

There was not much record-breaking at the Interscholastic Games in the Madison Square Garden a week ago Saturday night, doubtless on account of the heavy track; but there was good sport and plenty of it, and better in-door games than these have never been seen in New York. Not only did the local schools turn out in full force, entering their strongest teams, but the winners of the recent B.A.A. games came down from Boston, and the leagues of Connecticut, New Jersey, Long Island, and Philadelphia sent some of their best men--men who proved so clever that the New-Yorkers managed to secure only five firsts out of the thirteen events, and but 49 points out of a possible 117. With such an aggregation the games became truly representative of school athletics, in the East at least, and they foreshadow a brilliant success for the National Games next June. If we can get as representative a gathering on that occasion, there need be no fear for the future of the Association.

St. Paul's School has good reason to feel pride in the achievement of her team, for it was as a team that the lads of Garden City won success rather than as individuals. The development of track athletics at St. Paul's during the present year is really worthy of note. At the Long Island League games last May, the Garden City team ranked fourth with 20 points, the winner of the day being Adelphi Academy with 39. At the Inter-City games the week following, St. Paul's held eighth place with 6 points--Barnard leading with 21. At the recent in-door games of the Long Island League in Brooklyn, St. Paul's showed her newly developed strength by ranking third, and her team took the same place at the Berkeley games a week later, Berkeley and Barnard being ahead of her in both instances. But St. Paul's has fewer stars and a better general average than these two New York schools, and for this reason was able to roll up 19 points, and take first place at the New Manhattan Athletic Club games, the athletes from out of town robbing both Berkeley and Barnard of several firsts which they can usually count upon in local contests.

Beers of De La Salle is the only man who scored a double win at the Garden, and he deserves praise for his work. He won his heat in the hurdles in 7-3/5 sec., and then took the final after a hot race with Bien of Berkeley over a course that was far from ideal for hurdling. In the broad jump he displayed the best form of any of the contestants. This may not sound very complimentary to those who saw the display of form that evening, for it was wretched; but Beers's performance gave evidence of his having done systematic work. The box was doubtless responsible for a good deal of the floundering that the jumpers indulged in when they landed, and the runway no doubt had little spring; but neither of these disadvantages can account for some of the marvellous mid-air gyrations that most of them executed in their flights.

Broad-jumping is an event that we seldom have at in-door meets, and the performances in the Garden on this occasion showed very well why this event has to be abandoned. It is impossible, of course, to jump on a board floor. At the N.M.A.C. games the board floor had been covered with a pretty heavy layer of clay and dirt, but as soon as a man landed in the jumping box where this layer had been turned over, he slid, and in nine cases out of ten fell backward. This could not be helped, and was just as great an obstacle for the success of one man as it was for another, and consequently Beers's performance of 19 ft. 2-1/2 in. is most creditable. The N.Y.I.S.A.A. out-door record, made by Pell in 1891, is little better, being 21 feet 5 inches.

N.M.A.C. INTERSCHOLASTIC GAMES, MADISON SQUARE GARDEN, MARCH 28, 1896.

Event. Performance. Winner 50-yard dash (Senior) 6 sec R. W. Moore, Barnard, N. Y. 50-yard dash (Junior) 5-4/5 " W. A. Robinson, St. Paul's, L. I. 220-yard dash 26-1/5 " W. M. Robinson, Worcester Academy, Mass. Quarter-mile run 57-4/5 " C. R. Irwin-Martin, Berkeley, N. Y. Half-mile run 2 m. 12-1/5 " W. S. Hipple, Barnard, N. Y. One-mile run 4 " 56 " E. W. Mills, Berkeley, Boston. 50-yard hurdle (3 ft.) 7-2/5 " A. F. Beers, De La Salle, N. Y. One-mile walk 7 " 59-2/5 " A. L. O'Toole, English High-School, Boston. Running high jump 5 ft. 7-1/2 in. F. R. Sturtevant, Hartford High-School. Running broad jump 19 " 2-1/2 " A. F. Beers, De La Salle, N. Y. Pole vault 10 " R. G. Paulding, Black Hall, Conn. Putting 12-lb. shot 42 " 1 " F. C. Ingalls, Hartford High-School. Relay race 4 m. 2-1/5 sec. St. Paul's School, L. I.

Points.

St. Paul's 19 Berkeley, N. Y. 14 De La Salle 13 Worcester Academy 11 Barnard 10 Hartford High 10 Boston English High 7 Berkeley, Boston 5 Black Hall 5 Collegiate School 3 Packard Institute 3 Drisler's 3 Brooklyn High 3 Pingry's, Elizabeth, N. J. 3 Polytechnic Preparatory 2 Cutler's 2 Newark Academy 1 Roman Catholic High, Philadelphia 1 Wilson and Kellogg's 1

The prettiest performance of the evening, taking everything into consideration, was Mills's running of the mile. Mills was one of the Boston contingent, and at the B.A.A. games the week before he took the 1000-yard run in 2 min. 33 sec. He is a very fast man for long distances, being better at a five-mile event than at one. He is a well-built young athlete, has a beautiful stride, and runs in much better form than any scholastic competitor that has ever appeared in local games. It was plain to see as soon as the race had been started that Mills was to have everything his own way. He contented himself with remaining at the rear of the bunch for the first lap or so, letting others set the pace, and waiting for the crowd to straggle a little before he tried to take the lead. Then he got into his stride, and trotted to the front as if the rest were standing still, and kept on increasing his lead at every lap. It soon became evident that the race was to be merely a contest for second place, but the Boston boy's running was of such a high grade that most of the spectators watched him, and seemed to lose interest in the real struggle, which was practically between Manvel of Pingry's, Turner of Cutler's, and Bedford of Barnard. Manvel had sized up Mills very early in the race, and did not allow himself to be drawn away too fast, but ran consistently for second place. Bedford, however, worked a little too hard in the early stages, and did not even secure a place at the end.

Mills's time was 4 min. 56 sec., and if the track had not been so heavy I feel certain he could have knocked off at least ten seconds. If he had been pushed at all he would have done better still. In the University team race Orton was hard pushed by Grant of Harvard, but his time was only 4 min. 52-3/5 sec., a little over three seconds faster than Mills's time in the mile; and Orton is one of the cracks among American amateurs. It would be interesting to see a race between Mills and Orton.

The heavy track precluded any record-breaking or good time in the sprints. W. M. Robinson, of Worcester Academy, took his heat in the 50-yard dash in 5-4/5 sec. At the B.A.A. games he ran the 40-yard dash in 4-4/5 sec. Moore of Barnard, however, met Robinson in the finals, and his winning time was 6 sec., Robinson being unable to repeat the work he had done in his heat. Another Robinson, he of St. Paul's, in the Junior 50-yard ran his first heat in 6 sec., and then won the final in 5-4/5 sec., doing better according to the summarized record than the Senior winner.

In the half-mile run, Dow, one of the Boston athletes, was considerable of an unknown quantity, but he was not fast enough to defeat Hipple of Barnard. The Bostonian took the pole at the start, and went off with an easy stride, Hipple hanging back in third place; but at the third round the New-Yorker began to catch up, and the race with Dow was neck and neck into the stretch, where Hipple burst ahead and won by several yards. Hall of St. Paul's, who had not been working so hard, then quickly passed Dow, and took second honors. Irwin-Martin of Berkeley had little trouble in his quarter-mile heat, but when it came for the decisive encounter he had to work for his points. He did not get to the front until the last lap, and even then he had to do his best to defeat Van Wagenen of St. Paul's.

The hurdle races were too short to be interesting, and the performers knocked over the hurdles so consistently that this usually pretty race was a good deal of a failure.

Next to the mile run, the mile walk was as exciting as any of the events of the evening. There was a good field, and in it were two good men--Walker of Berkeley and O'Toole of Boston. O'Toole walked in faultless form, and was content to remain in the middle of the bunch for the first lap; after that he made long strides for the front. Myers kept close to him, and Walker worked hard the entire distance to secure the lead. At the fourth lap the Berkeley lad did get to the front, but O'Toole immediately put on more steam and gained several yards. Ware of Packard Institute did steady work the entire distance, and came in second, with Walker close behind him. If Walker and O'Toole meet at the National I.S.A.A. games in June, it will be a very close contest, with the same advantage of physique in favor of the Bostonian; but both athletes are about equal in form and style.

Of the field events, the pole vault was perhaps the most interesting, narrowing down to a battle between Paulding of Black Hall and Johnson of Worcester. Paulding finally took first honors by clearing the bar at 10 feet. Both men would doubtless have done better if the conditions had been more favorable, the runway being soft and without spring. The shot went to Ingalls of Hartford, who put it 42 feet 1 inch; the broad jump went to Beers, as already stated; and the running high jump also went to Hartford, with Sturtevant, who cleared 5 feet 7-1/2 inches. He is a very promising man.

The relay race was run off in the very excellent time of 4 minutes 2-1/5 seconds. The St. Paul's representative in the first quarter secured the lead, and the Garden City runners thereafter managed to increase their gain on every lap. In the last, Irwin-Martin started in for Berkeley and gained slightly on Hall, the St. Paul's man, but the latter had too great an advantage to be overcome, and five more points went to Garden City.

Two California schools are going to meet in a kind of single combat at an early date. It seems that the school paper of Oakland claimed that Cheek, Rosborough, Jenks, and Dawson could defeat the whole team the Berkeley High-School sent to the last A.A.L. field-meeting. The Berkeley athletes at once called upon the Oaklanders to descend from the house-tops, and sent a challenge for dual games, O.H.-S. to be represented by the four men she had so proudly vaunted, and B.H.-S. to be represented by four of her strongest athletes. The events in this duel will be the same as those at the regular A.A.L. field-meetings, including the relay race, which the four champions of each school are to run. This glorious tournament will doubtless be held on April 18th, and I, for one, should like to see it.

The Secretary of the National Lawn-Tennis Association has announced the dates for this summer's tournaments, and according to his list the Harvard, Yale, Princeton, and Columbia interscholastic tournaments will be held on May 2d. The Interscholastic Championships at Newport are scheduled for August 13th.

The schedule for the interscholastic cricket season in Philadelphia has been revised and definitely arranged as follows: May 6th, Episcopal _vs._ Penn Charter, Haverford _vs._ De Lancey; May 13th, Germantown _vs._ Haverford, De Lancey _vs._ Penn Charter; May 20th, Germantown _vs._ Episcopal, Penn Charter _vs._ Haverford; May 27th, Germantown _vs._ Penn Charter, De Lancey _vs._ Episcopal; June 1st, Germantown _vs._ De Lancey, Haverford _vs._ Episcopal.

The New England I.S. League took in a number of new schools as members at its recent meeting, and voted to join the National Association. There are now over thirty-five schools in the Boston Association. It ought to be able to send an almost invincible team to the national field-day in June.

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.

The illustrations of the "local" Confederates in this column excited some interest in the readers of the ROUND TABLE, and resulted in the finding of several of the rare and a large number of the common varieties.

Of late great interest is being paid to the North American British Colonies, and I illustrate the scarce Canada issue used between 1851 and 1859. With the exception of the Threepence they are all scarce, and the "Twelvepence" is one of the rarest stamps. Excluding minor varieties, their values are as follows:

Unused. Used. 3d. red $3 $0.25 6d. purple 20 5.00 1/2d. pink 6 3.00 7-1/2d. green 12 15.00 10d. blue 25 8.00 12d. black 400 300.00

Varieties on laid paper, and perforated copies are worth still more.

Quite a number of correspondents have called my attention to a difference in the color of the paper used in printing the current issue of U.S. stamps. An examination shows the paper to be the same. The seeming difference arises from the careless wiping of the steel plates during printing.

C. E. M.--No. It is worth bullion only, probably 50c.

A. SUBSCRIBER.--1813 cent is worth 35c., 1616 worth 10c.

E. B. COUNCIL.--No premium if you wish to sell. You can buy of dealers at about double face value.

G. F. COHOON.--Canada coins are not collected in the U.S. The other things mentioned are tokens, not coins.

D. L. DELAMARTER.--I do not know the Weissinger & Bate stamp. The 18 kr. Wurtemburg unperforated is worth about $7.50.

L. K.--The newspaper stamps of 1865 are worth $2 for the blue 5c. with white border, $15 blue border, $6 each for the 10c. and 25c. Reprints are common.

H. FROST.--The coin is a Spanish dollar, worth 50c. Philately is growing stronger every day. The 24c. Treasury is priced $4 used, the 7c. $1.25 used. War Department set about $5 either used or unused.

P. L. PARSONS.--The Missouri Defence Bond has no market value.

C. BETHUNE.--Some of the English colleges at one time issued stamps for postal purposes, but they are not collected in America.

J. D. CORBIE.--The coin is Spanish and has no value. Many millions of these old Spanish coins are still in existence.

ALINS.--No addresses of dealers are given in this column.

A. A. KRIEGER, 1531 New Broadway, Louisville, Ky., wants to exchange stamps.

W. K. DART.--Foreign revenues are worth nothing in this country. The coin has no premium.

L. P.--Your stamp is from the centre row of the sheet, hence has no perforation on one side. No special value. The Philadelphia die has a double line; the Hartford a single line under the word "Postage."

W. F. MEEKS.--The 1803 cent can be bought for 15c.

G. H. C.--No premium on the coins.

SARA L. YOUNG.--The New York 5c. black of 1845 is worth $7.50 if in good condition.

D. W. W.--Old albums or catalogues have no value. The 10c. green on buff U.S. envelope, 1853, wide ends, can be bought for $5. Names of dealers, etc., not given in this column.

PHILATUS.

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the best things in Prose and Poetry, always including good Songs and Hymns. It is surprising how little good work of this kind seems to be done in the Schools, if one must judge from the small number of people who can repeat, without mistake or omission, as many as Three good songs or hymns.

and accurate Memory work is a most excellent thing, whether in School or out of it, among all ages and all classes. But let that which is so learned be worth learning and worth retaining. The Franklin Square Song Collection presents a large number of

and Hymns, in great variety and very carefully selected, comprising Sixteen Hundred in the Eight Numbers thus far issued, together with much choice and profitable Reading Matter relating to Music and Musicians. In the complete and varied

which is sent free on application to the Publishers, there are found dozens of the best things in the World, which are well worth committing to memory; and they who know most of such good things, and appreciate and enjoy them most, are really among the best educated people in any country. They have the best result of Education. For above Contents, with sample pages of Music, address

Harper & Brothers, New York.

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.

If you are in no hurry on your trip to Buffalo, it is well to spend a day or two in Syracuse, and take some of the rides in the vicinity of that city. The streets are very poorly paved in the city itself, with few exceptions, but on getting out of the immediate city limits the roads are moderately good. It is well for the tourist to remember that the Syracuse Athletic Association, on Jefferson Street near Salina, and the Century Cycling Club, at 319 James Street, will be glad to see at any time any member of the bicycling confraternity who goes through Syracuse.

On leaving the city by the west, proceed out Genesee Street, which is asphalt. To leave the city on the east, take East Water Street to Pine Street, and turn to the right into East Genesee Street, running out to the Genesee turnpike by keeping to the left again. To leave Syracuse on the south, run out to Onondaga on Salina Street, which is cobble-stones as far as Onondaga, and is brick to Burt. Further out than this it is macadamized. To leave Syracuse on the north--and this, by-the-way, is one of the pleasantest rides in the vicinity of Syracuse--cross the river at the swing bridge, thence, turning to the right, pass through James Street to Catherine, and proceed along this to Lodi; turn to the left into it, and again to the left into Pond Street. It is but one block to Litac Street, where you should keep to the left, and run another block to Kirkpatrick, thence turn into Alvord Street; proceed along this to Court Street, and thence proceeding to Park Street, turn left around the park itself, and proceed over the canal bridge to Liverpool. At Liverpool cross the bridge and turn to the right into the tow-path, which is left at the next bridge by turning to the left, whence you run to Long Branch. At the latter place proceed along the boulevard across the entire western side of Lake Onondaga through Maple Bay, Manhattan Beach, Rockaway Beach, Pleasant Beach, and Lakeview. Beyond Lakeview you run into the Marsh road at the end of the boulevard; thence turn left to Sand Street, where a turn to the right is made, and the run along Sand Street is continued until West Genesee Street is reached, whence it is easy to return to the swing bridge. This is a fifteen-mile ride, and is perhaps the pleasantest in the vicinity of Syracuse.

Continuing the journey towards Buffalo, leave Syracuse by the north on South Salina Street, and crossing the canal, turn into West Genesee Street. Again cross the canal bridge, and proceed direct out Genesee Street over the turnpike to Camillus. From Camillus to Elbridge there are some very bad hills, which are in places unrideable. Elbridge is fifteen miles from Syracuse. The run from Elbridge to Weedsport is direct except at a point about a mile and a half out, where a turn to the right must be made, and the turnpike followed to Weedsport direct. The road is in reasonably good condition, but is somewhat sandy. From Weedsport to Port Byron and Montezuma, and on through Clyde to Lock Berlin, the route follows the canal. In fact, most of the way from Port Byron to Clyde is on the canal tow-path, which, though it is three miles longer than by the road, is much better riding and much more picturesque and interesting. At Clyde take West Genesee Street, and proceed direct to Lock Berlin, forty miles distant from Syracuse. The road is good, and at the intersection of the four corners turn sharp to the left, cross the canal, pass under the railroad, and, taking the first turn to the right, again crossing the railroad and canal, proceed direct into Lyons, finally passing by a hill that is practically unrideable. The distance is about forty-three and a half miles.

Speaking of good manners, is it not worth while to think about how we behave in church? One mark of a thoroughbred girl is her air of repose, especially when she is in public. She avoids restlessness, she sits quietly, and she listens to the sermon. Other and ill-trained persons may observe to their neighbors that the contralto flats or the tenor's voice is cracked, but the well-mannered girl keeps unkind criticisms of the quartette and the choir strictly to herself. She does not whisper during service, nor look about her, for she knows that the place and the hour are sacred, and she would not like to disturb others, even if she were not in the proper spirit, on her own account. Whoever else is late, the girl I am thinking of is in good season, and she does not bring with her an atmosphere of haste and confusion into a house which should be quiet and tranquil.

But you will accuse me of preaching, and this is not my wish; so I will tell you of something else. A girl writes to me that she has a great ambition to become an editor, and wants to know how to begin her training for the profession. As she is still in the high-school, with four years of college to follow her present course, she is not pressed for time. If I were she I would practise the writing of bright, short, chatty paragraphs. Until you make the attempt, you will not believe how hard it is to write in two or three sentences the gist of an occurrence, to relate what is necessary in a story, to describe an event or a person, without using too many words. The girl who can write clever paragraphs will in good time find a newspaper which will use her work. As between producing paragraphs or poems, I advise the paragraph as by far the better factor in forming a really good style. But if, as with Daisy R---- and Alice F----, my girls like to write verses, there is no reason why they should not acquire so graceful an accomplishment.

As for earning money out of school hours, Belle S----, there are not many ways open to a girl. In the first place, the hours of a girl's life at school and at home are very full. She has her lessons to prepare, and there are usually some home duties which fall to her share. A school-girl must not overwork, for if she does she will neither do credit to her teacher nor to her own abilities. We insist in these days that the best students are those who are in good health, able to walk, to ride a wheel, to play golf and tennis, and to lend a hand at whatever is going on. Pallid, attenuated girls are out of fashion.

Still there are chances now and then for girls who need or who wish to add to their store of pocket-money, and if you will wait till next week, and then turn to the Pudding Stick, you will discover some of them. I have taken pains to find out things which young girls at school actually do, so that I will not be misleading you or extending false hopes, only to be disappointed when you read my report in the case.

At the same time, if you were my own daughter, I would rather have you wait, and not enter the lists with those who earn money until her school days were over.

E. T. C.--A girl of your age should not have headaches. Be careful of your diet. Avoid hot rolls and cake and candy, which you say you are fond of. If fresh air, exercise, and attention to your diet do not cure you, it is worth while to find out whether the trouble may not arise from your eyes. An oculist by fitting the eyes with the right glasses often drives away the cause of a persistent headache.

BETTIE G.--I know of no way in which you can become a good performer on the piano without patient and very regular practice. There is no easy road to music. Do not believe any one who tells you there is.

MARGUERITE.--I am told by a music-teacher of eminence that too much practising is as bad as too little. Try breaking your time into four half-hours daily. With your studies, two hours a day is all you should devote to the piano.

MART AND LILL.--It is customary for girls to sign their full names in correspondence with strangers. You are Martha and Elizabeth to the world. The pet names are pretty for home use.

MARION.--I cannot tell you how to write a letter in which you have nothing to say. Wait till you have some reason for writing, and then you will not find the task hard, especially as you are fond of writing letters to the home people.

ELEANOR DANA.--Any of Mary E. Wilkins's books will suit your friend; I think she would like _A Humble Romance_ or _Jane Field_.

WINNIE LEWIS B.--Certainly it is right to wear cleaned gloves, and if the work is done well, and the gloves are of a light color, they may be cleaned several times before they are abandoned as past use.

ARCHIE P.--Wear your hair in a long thick braid for the present.

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Harper's Catalogue,

Thoroughly revised, classified, and indexed, will be sent by mail to any address on receipt of ten cents.

* * * * *

Writing Letters.

III.

Young persons--and old persons too, for that matter--ought to be careful what they put down in writing. Letters are permanent things--or likely to become so. Italian, Spanish, French, and Continental Europe business men are much more cautious about signing their names and about reducing business matters to writing than the same class of men in England and America. But if these Continental business men do sign anything, they live up to it. Americans are too much given to agree to almost anything, and then--regret having done so. Young men fall into this error.

In correspondence, be very sure that you know to whom the letter is going, that it reach him, and that it will then be promptly destroyed, before you trust to paper even that indignation which the world agrees in calling righteous. Trivial matters of a personal character that ought not to be said ought much less to be written. A good rule is: Never write anything that you would blush to have all the world read.

In constructing letters, give some advance thought to the task. Avoid details, be explicit, and polite. If you ask a reply and it is your business, enclose a self-addressed and stamped envelope, but do not put into it a sheet of blank paper. Say all you have to say before you sign your name. "N. B.'s" there is no excuse for. If you find one necessary, write your letter over again. Too much trouble? Not so. It is the least troublesome in the long-run, for, having taken it a few times, you acquire the habit of constructing your letters as you wish them, and ever after avoid both re-writing and "N. B.'s" If you enclose other papers in the envelope with your letter, say so, and specify what they are.

Do not imagine yourself to be your correspondent's only correspondent. If you are writing on a business matter, begin one letter where the last one ended. Give details of your business in order that your correspondent may learn at once what you are writing about. If your letter be an answer to another letter, answer all of the questions. Don't neglect to look at the letter and think you have answered. Consult the letter and be sure about it.

* * * * *

The Lake Worth Country.

I suppose there is not a tract of land in the United States that has increased in value so rapidly as that of the now famous Lake Worth Country. Twenty-five years ago there were no settlers there, and it was not until early in the '80's that it began to be attractive. Several years ago the finest piece of land on the lake could be bought for $250. Congressman Miner, of New York, was offered a portion, but refused. Last winter he was told that the same piece of property is now worth $50,000.

The improvements along the lake cost millions of dollars. Among the lovely places is that of C. L. Craigin, of Philadelphia. It cost more than $115,000. Mayor Swift, of Chicago, has a winter home overlooking the lake, situated on a high bluff. The most conspicuous place on the lake is the site of the Episcopal Church, Bethesda-by-the-Sea.

A part owner of the famous Hutchinson Land Grant is Colonel A. T. Lewis, a native of Mississippi. In 1836, during the Indian war, he marched from St. Augustine to Tampa Bay. He was in the fight that resulted in the death of the Indian chief Hoocha Billy. He also secured the title to the Spanish grant opposite Ancona, which he had been contesting since 1875.

HARRY R. WHITCOMB. UMATILLA, FLA.

* * * * *

At School in Germany.

I am an American boy, from the city of New York, but already three years have gone by since I last passed the Narrows on my way to Europe. I shall never forget my feelings as I saw the last of the well-beloved coast, which I knew I should not again see for many years. I had previously been over Lake Ontario (and in my whole life I was never in a worse boat), and a good way up the St. Lawrence; but still it was a curious sensation to see nothing for days but sky and ocean. Nevertheless, I enjoyed my trip pretty well. I was not troubled by seasickness, and arrived, after a journey of seven days, at Southampton. I passed a week in London, which I was very anxious to visit, but after having seen some of it, my curiosity quickly subsided. It is not half as nice as New York. Then I went to Cologne _viâ_ Flushing, Venlo, and from there to Stuttgart, the capital of the kingdom of Würtemberg, where I still live.

One often mentions the beautiful position of this town, and it has indeed many advantages which we do not find in other German cities. Among other things Stuttgart is especially noted for its good schools, and of these the "Realgymnasium," which I frequent, is probably the best. Contrary to the so-called "humanistischen gymnasium" we are taught only Latin, not Greek and Hebrew, but a great deal of mathematics. There are three departments: lower gymnasium, first to third classes (primary); middle gymnasium, fourth to sixth classes (grammar school); the higher gymnasium, seventh to tenth classes (college). Of these again, classes one to seven have each three parallel classes, viz., a, b, c. The three highest, VIII., IX., X., have only one class each.

Our general hours for lessons (I am now in the VII.), are, in winter, from 8, in summer, from 7-12, and from 2-5. That's pretty long, but still when we get home our work is not nearly done, for we have a good deal of work to do at home. With mathematics--that is, geometry, algebra, and physics, I get on very well, thanks to the good grounding I received in America, but Latin is in some sense my stumbling-block. Still, I already appreciate the beauty of Latin literature. French I read with perfect ease and pleasure. I could tell you a good deal more about school, but I fear to weary my readers, so I will only mention how our bodily education is cared for.

Thrice a week we have gymnastics, once swimming, four times fencing (with foils now, afterwards with bayonet and sabre), and we also play a good deal of football, which has begun to spread in Germany during the last three years, and which, by the wish of the Emperor, has been introduced into all the higher schools. Like many other classes mine has also formed an eleven, of which I am captain. Our school library is very good, consisting of about eight thousand books of the best German, English, French, Latin, Spanish, and Italian authors. These form ample amusement for our leisure hours. Our summer vacation lasts from July 25th till the 6th or 7th of September, Christmas holidays from December 23d until 5th or 7th of January. At Easter we have two and a half weeks.

I am, comparatively speaking, a recent member of the Order of the Round Table, but a very old reader of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. I myself have had it since 1887, and before me my brother took it for several years. The volume of 1880, in which, if I remember right, _Moral Pirates_ and _Who was Paul Grayson?_ (I think that was the name) was printed, is still in my possession. I have followed with great interest the stories of Mr. Kirk Munroe--the _Mates_, _Fur-Seal's Tooth_, _Snow-Shoes and Sledges_, _Fire Rangers_, _Road Rangers_, and _Sea Rangers_. Of Captain King's stories I prefer _Cadet Days_ to _Corporal Fred_.

This is my first trial of a letter to HARPER'S ROUND TABLE, and I much doubt if it will pass muster, but I hope I shall be allowed to try again, and to be more successful then. I always read the letters and questions, and if I could be of any use to a member I would do so with the greatest pleasure.

PAUL LOESEY, R.T.F. STUTTGART, GERMANY.

* * * * *

Plants that Live on Insects.

The plant known as the Drosera, or Sundew, is very curious, and is well worth watching, for it is what is called insectivorous. That is, it eats insects for food. Its leaves are covered with bristles, and on the end of each bristle is a drop of sticky secretion which, when the sun shines on it, looks like dew, hence the common name. But if a fly or other insect lights on the leaf, he gets caught. Then the outer bristles turn towards him, and at last, although it takes about twelve hours, the leaf folds around him. The plant takes all the nutriment from the insect's body, and opens, ready for another catch. It has been proved that a plant fed on animal food is more vigorous than a plant that is not. This Drosera is very common in wet meadows and on the shores of ponds. It has a more expert cousin, the Dionæa. This closes its leaf very quickly, and the insect has no chance to escape.

LINCOLN W. RIDDLE. JAMAICA PLAIN.

* * * * *

Legendary Geography.

CONCEALING RIVERS, CITIES, STATES, AND ISLANDS.

In the country _beyond the mountains_,(1) where we spent our summer vacation, a _kind of fish_(2) is caught by _fish-spearing_,(3) in the _cold spring_(4) _between the rivers_(5) by a _husher or bully_.(6)

Traces of the _silver or lead ore_(7) in the _Green Mountains_(8) on the _cross shore_(9) are distinctly seen in the _bold rock_(10) by the _long lake_,(11) where the tired and _drowsy_(12) fishermen, stopping for rest and refreshment, are lulled to sleep by the _thunder of waters_(13) rushing through _the strait_(14) near the _islands of land turtles or tortoises_.(15)

The country is rich in geographical interest and old Indian legends. It is a curious coincidence that the initials of the geographical names concealed by their definitions, when properly arranged, give a national holiday of historic importance.

Answers.--1, Housatonic River. 2, Tippecanoe River. 3, Androscoggin River. 4, Sandusky River. 5, Nashua. 6, Indiana. 7, Galena. 8, Vermont. 9, Yokohama. 10, Aleutian Islands. 11, Kennebec River. 12, Iowa. 13, Niagara. 14, Detroit. 15, Gallapagos Islands. Thanksgiving Day.

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.

PHOTOGRAPHING THE STARS.

How many of our Camera Club have tried to photograph the stars? Of course, to make accurate pictures of the stars one must have special apparatus, and the camera must be adjusted by machinery so that it will move as the earth moves; but one may make very curious and also interesting pictures of star "tracks" with an ordinary camera. The winter-time is the best time of year for making such pictures, for the stars appear much brighter then than in warm weather.

Use a moderately quick plate and expose for fifteen or twenty minutes, pointing the camera toward that part of the heavens where there are stars of the largest magnitude. When the plate is developed, there will appear on it what seems like white marks, more or less distinct, according to the brightness of the stars which came within the compass of the lens.

If the camera is pointed toward that part of the sky which answers to the equator the lines will be straight, but if the camera is pointed toward the North star the lines will be curved. An interesting study may be made of one of the planets when in the vicinity of stars of first and second magnitude. The plate, when developed, will show that the planet travels in a different direction from that of the stars. The moon may also be photographed, and a much shorter exposure made than for the stars; indeed, one can make an almost perfect photograph of the moon when it is full, or nearly so.

Of course the plates are of no special value except as curiosities; but one may be as fortunate as was one young amateur recently, who, when exposing a plate, caught the image of a large meteor which shot across the sky within the field of his lens. Several interesting pictures of comets have been made with an ordinary camera; but these celestial visitors come few and far between. Photographs may be taken on bright moonlight evenings, and are sometimes very artistic. It is necessary to expose the plate from half an hour to an hour, according to the quickness of the plate and lens used.

E. A. M., New York, wishes to know if blue prints may be made with a pocket kodak. Blue prints may be made from any negative, however small. Films make as good blue prints as glass plates.

J. MOULTRIE LEE, JUN., says that he cannot find the articles which are referred to in previous numbers. He says that he turns to the number of the book and pages, but finds nothing relating to camera work. This must be because he turns to the page and not the number of the ROUND TABLE. He asks for a formula for sensitizing paper. A formula for making plain salted paper will be found in No. 796 (January 29, 1895) and in No. 803 (March 19, 1895). This formula was also reprinted in the circular sent out in October last. Our correspondent also asks how to make a waxed paper negative from a print of which the negative is destroyed, and how to transfer the film from one plate to another. In answer to the latter question, a paper is already prepared giving direction for this process, and will appear in an early number of the ROUND TABLE. To wax a print, heat an iron hot enough to melt wax readily, but not hot enough to scorch. Take a piece of pure white wax, rub a little on the face of the iron, and iron the print lightly on the back. If the picture is a landscape do not wax the sky. After it is waxed enough to be transparent, rub the iron over the print to warm the wax, and take up all the excess of wax with a clean piece of blotting-paper. It can then be placed in the printing-frame, using a glass support, and printed from, the paper negative being waxed in the same way.

LADY HELEN GARNER wishes to know what a "kit" is, and what it is for. The "kit" used by photographers, which is probably what Lady Helen means, is a thin frame inserted in a plate-holder so that one may use a smaller plate than the one for which the holder was originally made. If one has a 5 by 8 plate-holder, a frame with an opening 4 by 5 or 3-1/4 by 4-1/4 may be placed in the holder, and by this simple arrangement the smaller sizes of plates used in the larger holder. A 5 by 7 plate is used in a 5 by 8 holder by using two thin strips of wood half an inch wide. Both the frame and the strips of wood are blackened.

SIR KNIGHT SPRAGUE CARLETON wishes to know how to make good transparencies, as those which he has made lack detail and are not transparent enough. Directions for making transparencies were given in the ROUND TABLE No. 798 (February 12, 1895); but another paper will soon be published on this subject. If Sir Knight Sprague will tell what process he uses, time of printing, etc., we will be glad to suggest what remedy is needed. It would seem from the description that the transparencies were over-exposed.

SIR KNIGHT K. GREGORY says he is going to buy a small camera, and wishes to know how to develop and print his own pictures. He will find directions for beginners in recent numbers of the ROUND TABLE. The first paper was published May 21, 1895, and the others follow in order.

SIR KNIGHT FRED E. TURNER wishes to know if the process described in the ROUND TABLE for making prints with nitrate of uranium produces permanent prints. The prints made with the salts of uranium are, if properly treated, as permanent as the blue print, with perhaps the exception of the green, which sometimes loses the brilliant tone which it has at first. This is due to the development and fixing of the red print. This process was first practised by Niepce de St. Victor.

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PLAYS

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CARDS

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A NEW BOOK

TOMMY TODDLES

By ALBERT LEE. Illustrated by PETER S. NEWELL. Square 16mo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

A more entertaining collection of nonsense has rarely been penned.--_Boston Traveller._

This is primarily a book for boys, but it contains numerous chunks of wisdom for the delectation of older heads.--_St. Louis Globe Democrat._

We have not seen anything of the kind more pleasing since "Alice in Wonderland."--_N. Y. Press._

The story is intended to be juvenile, but it will appeal to thousands of grown-up juveniles better than to the juveniles themselves.--_Boston Daily Advertiser._

This is one of the most charming bits of fairyland writing I have read in a long time. The boys and girls will delight in it, but the old folks, no matter how many years they carry, will find an equal pleasure.... It is a charming little volume.--George H. Hepworth in _N. Y. Herald_.

* * * * *

OAKLEIGH

A Story for Girls. By ELLEN DOUGLAS DELAND. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

A story for girls, charmingly written, and illustrated throughout with pictures dainty enough to please the most fastidious damsel.... The incidents are full of life, the characters are very natural, and the conversations well sustained, so that the story is full of intense interest from beginning to end.--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._

* * * * *

By W. J. HENDERSON

=Afloat with the Flag.= By W. J. HENDERSON, Author of "Sea Yarns for Boys," etc. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

Mr. W. J. Henderson's latest sea-story for boys is one of the best we have seen.... The story has been read with eager interest by thousands of ROUND TABLE readers, and it will have an additional charm to them and others in its present book form.--_Boston Advertiser._

* * * * *

HARPER & BROTHERS, Publishers, New York.

* * * * *

IT SETTLED THE QUESTION.

The Colonel was the possessor of a fat colored man who was extremely lazy--so much so that everybody in the town had tried to do something to liven him up. They usually abandoned their effort after a trial.

There was quite a gathering at the Colonel's one afternoon, and the question of the lazy colored man came up. Finally one of the gentlemen asked leave to experiment, and to gratify him the Colonel sent for his lazy servant. It was some time before Sam put in an appearance. When he came, the gentleman addressed him thus:

"Sam, as I was coming up the garden path I noticed several snails down near the gate. I want to show these gentlemen some of their peculiarities, so catch one for me, please."

Sam scratched his gray wool and departed.

The Colonel and his friends smoked and chatted for a long while, and still no Sam and no snail.

"Well, that fellow is really lazy," said the gentleman who had sent him on the quest. "Colonel, would you mind sending for him, and see what on earth he is doing?"

The Colonel did so, and Sam entered the room.

"Well," said the gentleman, "did you catch one of those snails?"

"'Deed no, sah," replied Sam; "dey was too powerful quick fo' me. Ise couldn't catch up wid dem!"

That settled the question.

* * * * *

A NEW COUNTRY.

A party of tourists were examining one of the large trees of California. One of the party remarked:

"What a magnificent specimen! Surely it must be the oldest tree in the world!"

An Irishman who was with the party cried out: "Now, faith, how could that be?" and burst out into laughter. "Sure any one knows this is a new country, and how the mischief could that tree be ould?"

* * * * *

A LIGHT BREEZE.

During one of the recent windy days in New York a discussion arose between some gentlemen at dinner about the velocity of wind. Each related a boastful story of his own experiences. One of the party, a hardy Westerner, said he was once riding in a train through Kansas.

"There was what is called out there 'a light breeze' blowing. I had occasion to look out of the window, and the moment I put my head out off went my hat."

"What did you do?" asked one of the party.

"Well, gentlemen, several people told me not to worry, that the breeze was strong enough to take it there. I sort of wondered what they meant, but that hat was handed to me by the station-agent at our next stop, about forty miles from where it blew out of the window. We came along pretty fast, too--I guess about fifty miles an hour. But then eighty miles an hour for wind is called 'a light breeze' in that country, and the hat went by the eighty-mile route."

* * * * *

A HARD MACHINE TO RIDE.

"Papa, what is a bicycle, anyhow?" asked Jack.

"Why, it's a two-wheeled vehicle, the wheels being placed tandem. The word is derived from _bi_, meaning two, and _cyclus_, a wheel. If it had one wheel it would be a unicycle."

"I've ridden a unicycle many a time."

"You? Where?"

"In the garden--in the wheelbarrow."

* * * * *

A SMALL BOY'S NOTION.

"Oh, mamma," said little Willie, as he made his first close inspection of a bicycle, "this machine has got rubbers on to keep its wheels from getting wet!"

* * * * *

An Irishman and a Yankee were playing the forfeit game of Questions.

"How does the little ground-squirrel dig his hole and show no dirt at the entrance?" asked the Irishman.

"Give it up," said the Yankee at last.

"Sure, you see, he begins at the other end of the hole," declared Pat triumphantly.

"But how does he get there?" queried the Yankee.

"Oh, that's your question; answer it yourself," said Pat.

* * * * *

A BRAVE OFFICER'S ANSWER.

During Napoleon's campaign in Russia a young officer was very successful in defeating, with a handful of men, a large body of Cossacks who had been skirmishing along the line for some days, doing considerable damage. The officer risked his life in a daring deed of bravery, and Napoleon, hearing of it, sent for him and praised him.

"Sire," said the officer, "I am happy for your praise, but the Cross of the Legion of Honor would make me happier."

"But you are very young," said Napoleon.

"Sire," answered the brave officer, "we do not live long in your regiments."

End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, April 7, 1896, by Various