CHAPTER II.

Flea was a hardy, country-bred child, and as little afraid of thunder, lightning, and flood as of the loneliness of the deserted school-house. She laughed low and gleefully as she drew her skirt up to her knees and stuck out both thin brown legs in the warm rain, wriggling her toes contentedly in the shower-bath. A broad reddish pool was spread out in front of the door in three minutes, and the heavy drops plashing into it raised tiny bobbing bubbles.

"They are fairies dancing at a ball!" ejaculated Flea. "How featly they foot it!"

The rain poured on, the dull rumble on the roof stirring up hollow echoes in the room behind her; the fairies danced more and more wildly as a sharp shower of hail mixed with the rain-drops. The falling pellets stung Flea's legs, and she drew them in, still laughing, drying them imperfectly with a blue cotton handkerchief she took from her pocket. Sitting further back out of the spray, she doubled her legs under her to warm them.

The rain streamed steadily, beating the wind down; the sky darkened slowly, with no alternations of lighter glimpses. In happy unconsciousness of the lapse of time, Flea waited patiently for the "holding-up" that could not be far away.

"When it rains so hard, it doesn't last long," she thought, surprised to find herself yawning.

The monotonous patter upon the roof, the dash and drip from the unguttered eaves, had made her drowsy. She would take a short nap, and find it clear upon awakening. Then there would be a merry tramp through the puddles, and pines, and wet old-field broom-straw, to her supper at sunset.

She shut the door, went back to her corner, and stretched herself upon a bench, putting the bulky Shakespeare under her head for a pillow.

"What rich and strange dreams I ought to have!" she murmured; shut her eyes and took up the examination-day scene where she had left it off.

Yes, that would be just the right thing to say. She must speak distinctly so that other people would hear it as well as the dear Major, who would stand there smiling down at her:

"You do me too--much--honor--I--assure--"

The soughing of the weak gusts in the aspen-boughs, the plashing from the eaves, and the thud upon the clap-boarded roof, steady as a drum-beat, had made quick work of waking dreams.

An hour went by. The wind shifted to the east and blew the door ajar, but the interior was no lighter for the opening. Darkness settled within and without the lonely building--a night in which there would be neither moon nor star to light the child, should she awake, to attempt the measured mile that lay between the school-house and her home.

Before preceding her thither I must try to explain to the young reader of this generation what was the social position of an overseer upon a Virginia plantation at a time when all the house and field servants were negro slaves. The overseer was as white as his employer, but much nearer the slave's level, unwilling as he might be to admit it, and his social rank suffered accordingly.

The Duncombes were too secure in their position in State, county, and neighborhood to be supercilious to inferiors, and too sensible not to appreciate the fact that the Grigsbys were most respectable in their walk of life. The father was a faithful and valuable official upon the great estate which comprised five of the best farms upon the river. Miss Emily and Miss Eliza were often at the overseer's house upon one errand or another, and sat for half an hour in as friendly chat with Mrs. Grigsby as if she had belonged to their visiting-list. Every spring and autumn she was sent for from Greenfield to help with the cutting out and making up of the clothes for the army of servants, who must be looked after and cared for as if they were children. Sometimes Mrs. Grigsby did not return to her home for several days, receiving cordial kindness from all of the Duncombes.

The night was chilly after the hail-storm, and the rain had not ceased. All the children, except Flea, were clustered in "the chamber," where was a glow of heat and light.

The fire was getting so hot that Bea pushed her chair and set the candle-stand further away from it, and demanded of Calley (short for Caledonia) "what she was thinkin' about to let the baby roast his brains by crawlin' so close to the hearth!"

"He'll ketch fire, if you don't mind," she added. "Move him to the other side of the room."

"Do it yourself," retorted the checks-player. "It's my turn now, an' I can't stop for nothin'. One, two, three!"

"We'll see 'bout that, my lady, when ma comes in," said the other, in an elder-sisterly tone, and a step in the passage giving notice of the threatened "coming," Calley missed the marble she had meant to catch upon the back of her hand, and turning over on her side, made a long arm to drag the baby by his frock away from the hearth.

Thus suddenly attacked in the rear, the luckless infant lost his balance and pitched over upon his forehead. The thump was followed by a terrific howl.

"I declar' you children are enough to w'ar anybody's life out of her!" exclaimed Mrs. Grigsby, picking up the screaming child and beginning to rub his forehead hard with the palm of her hand--"to scatter the bruise," she would have said if asked why she did it. "Thar, thar, deary! ma's sugar pie! I should 'a' thought some on you might 'a' hendered him from ketchin' sech a fall as that. Calley, give me one o' them sugar rags to stop his mouth!"

The sugar rags were small squares of old linen or muslin, in which were tied up cold boiled rice or stale bread and brown sugar. Each was of the shape and size of a marble, and, before it was given to the baby, was dipped in milk, or, if milk were not at hand, in water. The smallest Grigsby's howl subsided into a queer whine, like that of a choking puppy, and this into an intermittent grunt, as his mother trotted him on her knee, holding the sugar rag in his mouth all the while.

"I come in to arsk ef any you children has any idea whar your sister Flea is," she was saying, when she could talk down the baby. "I've been a-callin' of her upsta'rs an' down-sta'rs an' all over the place, an' she ain't nowhar to be foun'. Your pa he's gone to the stable to see ef she's crawled up inter the hay-lof', or some sech outlandish place, an' gone to sleep. That chile's as wild as a hawk. You never know what she'll be up to nex'. She'll get los' sure 'nough some o' these days, an' then _thar_ it will be!"

"She's got the right name," giggled Bea. "She's jest like a flea--when you put your finger on her, she ain't there."

"It's no laughin' matter, I ken tell you, Mr. Dee!" retorted his mother, as Dee's snicker answered his sister's giggle. "Well, pa," as her husband entered, "any sign o' her?"

Mr. Grigsby, a tall lean man with sandy hair and whiskers, who looked and spoke like a person with more sense and far more education than the wife he had married fifteen years before for her pretty face and good housekeeping, stalked up to the hearth, shaking the wet from his coat into the fire, after the manner of a huge water-dog. Dee drew back to escape from the flying drops, and Bea put her embroidery behind her. Neither ventured to complain. Their father was kind and just to them, but he was master in his own house, and not to be trifled with when his face was as black as they now saw it. His voice was naturally harsh, and he had a touch of the Scotch "burr" in his speech. He spoke roughly and angrily:

"Sign of her? No! Things have come to a pretty pass if all of you together can't keep the run of one child while I'm off on the plantation working like a horse to put bit and sup into your mouths. Chaney tells me she saw her go off towards the woods right after dinner, with a book under her arm and her knitting in her hand. Have any of you seen her since?"

The children looked from one to the other, and then to their mother, who looked at them in the same way. Nobody said a word. Mr. Grigsby reached up for a lantern that stood on the chimney-piece, opened it, and lighted the candle within with a coal taken from the fire with the tongs. He snapped to the lantern door, crossed the room in three strides, and in another minute was heard outside shouting to Dick to saddle his horse and bring him around.

When the horse was ready he whistled up a couple of dogs, and swung himself into the saddle. As he did so, a voice called shrilly to him, and his wife ran out into the rain, throwing her apron over her head as she came.

"Pa! pa! stop!" she panted. "Bea says she's 'most certain Flea's gone to see Miss Em'ly. The child's jes distracted after her, you know, an' Bea says she was sayin' this mornin' how she'd promised to gether a heap o' life-everlastin' for Miss Em'ly to stuff a piller with. Bea says sure's you're born thar's whar the run-mad thing has gone to, an' they've kep' her all night on 'count o' the rain, Bea says."

Mr. Grigsby's patience and temper were often tried by his children's mother. Sometimes he spoke his mind to her. Oftener he did not express his feelings in words. They found vent now in a single harsh "Pshaw!" a Scotch snort, which she might have divided equally between herself and her oracle, Bea. As he blew it out he struck his spur into the horse's side and vanished into the rainy darkness, the dogs racing after him.

"I never see your pa more heady'n he is to-night," sighed the mother, returning to the waiting group that filled the lighted front door. "He's hard's a rock when he's sot upon anything."

The hard head was turned in the direction of Greenfield. The father might "pshaw" at Bea's suggestions and her mother's conclusions, but his sound sense told him they had given him a likely clew to the whereabouts of the missing child. If she had carried what he named in his displeasure "old-field trash" to "the house," she would have been detained there by the storm. Miss Emily made a pet of the lassie, and they might take it for granted that her family knew where she was. She got caught in a snow-storm up there last winter, and Miss Emily would not let her go home for three days. The idea became more and more plausible as he pushed on, the dogs at his heels, his big umbrella over his head. By the time the lights of the great house on the hill glimmered through the straight lines of rain, he was quite sure he should find his daughter under that safe shelter.

He rode to the stable and put his horse under cover, then made his way to the front door. It stood wide open, and so did that of the drawing-room, the broad red light flashing out into the hall telling that a fire had been kindled there.

A burst of music from the drawing-room arrested Mr. Grigsby's hand as he raised it to the knocker. Miss Emily and Miss Eliza were singing at the piano, and a man's voice joined in with theirs. The listener's knowledge of music was slight, but he had a good ear, and he knew that the unfamiliar voice was remarkably fine. It was strong and clear and sweet, and each word was articulated distinctly. The three were singing one of Moore's melodies arranged as a fugue, or, as unmusical people used to call it, "a chasing tune."

"Meet me by moonlight alo-o-o-ne,"

sang Miss Emily's small voice, as tunefully as a bobolink. And while she went on with

"And then I will tell thee a tale,"

Miss Eliza took up "Meet me by moonlight alone."

Before they could begin the second verse Mr. Grigsby let the knocker fall smartly, and Major Duncombe himself came out into the hall.

"Ah, Mr. Grigsby!" he said, cordially, but looking surprised. "Good-evening. Walk in. Nothing the matter, I hope?"

"I hope not, sir. But I was in hope of finding my little girl here. Fl--Felicia, my second daughter. She has not come home, and I thought she might have come up here on some errand or other, and been kept by the rain."

In the hush that followed his knock what he said was heard plainly in the drawing-room, and all the home party, headed by Miss Emily, now appeared, questioning and anxious.

Miss Emily flew up to the overseer, her blue eyes large, her red lips apart. She was out of breath and quite pale with alarm.

"What _did_ you say, Mr. Grigsby? _Is_ my little scholar lost? She isn't here. She hasn't been here all day--no, not for a _week_ and more. Oh, the _poor_ little dear! I _hope_ nothing has happened to her. Won't you _all_ go right off and look for her?"

She wrung her tiny white hands, and turned, first to her father, then to her grown brother, and lastly to Mr. Tayloe, who was nearest to her. "Can't _I_ go too?" she pleaded, and her eyes had real tears of real distress in them. A little more and she would be crying outright.

Three or four people began to speak all at once, but Mr. Tayloe's voice arose above the rest.

"Isn't that the child we saw at the school-house to-day, Major? We left her there at half past three, Mr. Grigsby. She must have been caught there by the rain."

In some way which nobody could have explained his cool, matter-of-fact manner was like a wet blanket upon the excitement caused by the news of the child's disappearance. Even Mr. Grigsby felt for an instant that much ado had been made over a very little matter. Miss Emily tittered nervously.

"How _very_ clever in you to recollect it, Mr. Tayloe!" gazing gratefully at him. "_Please_, papa, order ever so many of the men to go right _straight_ after her with lights and blankets and hot coffee and things, and bring her _right_ here. I can find some dry clothes for her, and she can sleep in my room, and--"

"That will do, Emily," said her father, quietly. "Joe"--to the colored footman who had been summoned by the knocker--"tell Jack and Emmanuel to get lightwood knots, and Cæsar to have my gig ready at once. Mr. Grigsby, I will go with you. As Mr. Tayloe suggests, we shall probably find the child at the school-house."

Mr. Grigsby's eyes and ears were quick. He was near enough to Miss Emily to overhear her say in an undertone to Mr. Tayloe:

"Won't you go, too, _please_? It will be a _real_ favor to me."

The overseer faced her abruptly. "Excuse me, Miss Emily, but I hope you won't persuade Mr. Tayloe to go out this wet night. There is no need whatever for him to do it. Indeed, Major Duncombe, if you will kindly let one of the hands go along with a lightwood torch, it is all I could ask. I am very sorry to cause such a disturbance."

"I shall go, if Major Duncombe will allow me, because it is Miss Duncombe's desire," said Mr. Tayloe, stiffly.

It would be foolish and useless to discuss the matter further. The canny Scotchman knew the impropriety of disputing with one who was now a member of his employer's family. With a brief "good-night" to the ladies, he went off to get his horse.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

FROM CHUM TO CHUM.

BY GASTON V. DRAKE.

IX.--FROM BOB TO JACK.

LONDON, _July_ --, 189-.

DEAR JACK,--Pop wants me to keep a dairy of this trip, and I told him I would, but it takes an awful pile of time to do it and write letters home too, so it's come down to this: Either you've got to keep these letters I'm writing to you, and let me have 'em type-written when I get back, or I've got to keep the dairy, and if I keep the dairy you don't get any more letters. I'll keep on writing until you let me know what you're going to do about it, because I guess maybe you'll say all right, go ahead. I don't see much sense in keeping dairys, but Pop says that boys that go abroad ought to, because they see lots and lots of things they never saw before and ought to remember. "What's the matter with remembering them?" said I, and he said: "Oh, you can't. Once there was a man who really remembered all he saw and heard, and when he got to be an old man his memory held so much it bulged his head out, and he had to have his hats built for him at ruinous expence."

Speaking of expence reminds me. The money they have over here is fine. My allowance when I'm home is ten cents a week, and over here Pop gives me sixpence. It's a clear gain of two cents a week, and I'm mighty glad I wasn't getting a quarter a week, because then Pop says he'd have made it a shilling, and I'd have lost a cent every week, because a shilling's only worth twenty-four cents. I hate to spend my allowance here though. I don't wonder English people get awful rich. It's easier to save than it is at home because over here when you spend money you feel as if you were spending your collection of coins, which you don't like to do. I've spent two bully coins already. One of 'em had George the Third's head on it, and the other was a Queen's Jubylee sixpence.

There's other money too, and lots of gold in sight. The five-dollar gold piece and the Queen all go by the same name, the sovereign, though some people call it the pound so as to extinguish it from the Queen. I haven't seen her yet, and I don't know as I want to. They say she wears bonnets just like all other women, and doesn't go round with regal things on at all. I don't see what fun there is in seeing a Queen if she don't carry a wand in her hand and wear a crown on her head.

There's lots of nonsense in the pictures we've seen of these royal personages anyhow. The other day when Pop and I were coming home from the bank in a handsome cab we passed a carriage with the Prince of Whales in it. He's going to be King some day if he has luck and he didn't look any more like a Prince than Sandboys. I've seen Sandboys look a great sight more hortier than he did, and as for the feathers he's always said to wear he didn't have a feather about him. I guess we've got Indians at home that can give him points on feathers and not half try.

But I tell you you can tell Americans every time even if you can't tell a Prince or a Duke from a hotel-keeper. I was sitting in the office the other day looking at the hotel elevator. They have two of 'em in every hotel because one of 'em seems to be out of order, and a lady came up to me and said she guessed from my spockling black eyes I was a little Italian boy, and I said "Nit," and then she knew right away that I was one of those bad American boys without any manners, but I didn't care and I mayn't have good manners, but I don't wear a beaver hat the way her boy did. It's the funniest thing you ever saw how the kids over here go into beavers as soon as they cut their teeth, and sailor collars. I thought I'd die when I saw that lady's son get into the elevator with his beaver and sailor collar on and a little coat that Pop says is called a Eatin' jacket that stops at his waist so's to make it handy to spank him. I found out afterwards though that he was a great sight better than he looked. When his Ma said my manners was bad he sort of looked up in the air and winked at the roof of the elevator and I had it in for him when I met him alone in the hall. I thought he'd be easy but he wasn't. I knocked his hat off but I had to stop there because while he had good manners enough when his mother was around he didn't have any when he was alone in the hall with me and I tell you we had a time of it until Pop came along and pulled us apart. There wasn't much damage done except to his beaver hat and we made it up afterwards and I sort of like him next to you. When he heard that I'd saved up and had almost three shillings he told me about a fine place near the hotel where they had tarts for sale and my what a gorge we did have on buns.

Since I wrote you about the town we've seen quite a lot of things but I've been kind of disappointed in 'em. We went to the British Museum the other day and I expected to see walruses and British Lions and John Bulls and unicorns and things like that but they didn't have anything worth looking at except mummies. There was some Elgin marbles Pop was anxious to see and I wanted to see 'em too because I'm fond of marbles but when we came to them they weren't our kind of marbles at all, only statchuary and great big slabs of figures with broken noses and things like that. There wasn't a thing in the whole place to compare with the circus museums we have at home except the mummies and they were fine, though there wasn't a live one in the place. We saw the mummy of Cleopatra who used to be the Queen of Egypt about a million years ago, and I must say if she looked like that I'm glad I wasn't alive then. Bogie men aren't in it with people like Cleopatra. She was a fearful looking lady but it was fun looking at her mummy and thinking how she'd been a Queen once and now wasn't anything but a side show to a museum. It sort of makes you satisfied to be a plain American with nothing ahead of you but being President when you think how the Kings and Queens of those times weren't allowed to keep quiet in their sarcophaguses, as they call the boxes mummies are buried in, but have to be trotted out to amuse people. Pop says it's an outrage to disturb a lady like that and I agree with him. I'd hate like anything to be hauled out for a museum a thousand years from now and have people look at me and say O my. That Bob Drake! I thought he was a better looking boy than that. But after all it's the only kind of circus these English boys have and I suppose it's better than none. Pop says they don't know what a three ringed circus is over here and I'm sorry for them, though I must say the circuses home in New York every year are making me cross-eyed trying to see all that is going on at once.

To-morrow we're going out to the Zoo, and next time I write to you I hope to tell you all about it. Somehow or other I expect great things from the Zoo, but I'm afraid that after we get there we'll find that it isn't a bit like the Zoos we are used to. It'll probably be made up of a lot of books and old pictures instead of interesting things like monkeys.

Yours ever, BOB.

The seventh annual in-door games of the New England Interscholastic Athletic Association, under the auspices of the Boston Athletic Association, were held a week ago Saturday in Mechanics' Hall, Boston. The games were very interesting and exciting, and unusually well contested. About three hundred personal entries were had from schools scattered throughout Massachusetts and other New England States, and fully 4000 people were present as spectators. This is a record both for competitors and spectators which no scholastic meeting in this city has ever approached.

It was evident from the outset that the race for points was to be close. Four schools--English High, Hopkinson's, Worcester High, and Worcester Academy--were out in earnest for the big championship shield, but English High succeeded in carrying off the shield by one point, getting 17-3/5 points to Worcester Academy's 16-3/5.

Three new records were made, one was equalled, and one established. O'Brien, E. H.-S., put the 16-pound shot 37 feet 3-1/2 inches, which is 7-1/2 inches better than his performance of 1895; and Mills of Berkeley took one-fifth of a second off the record for the 1000-yard run. The chief record-breaker, however, was W. M. Robinson, of Worcester Academy. He ran in the 40 and 300 yard distances, and won both. In the first event he ran three heats in record time, 4-4/5 sec., which is within one-fifth of a second of the world's record. In the longer distance he lowered W. D. Fuller's record of last year by one second, the new time being 35-1/5 sec. This young man will surely be heard from when he gets into college.

INTERSCHOLASTIC IN-DOOR GAMES OF THE B. A. A., MARCH 21, 1896.

Event. Performance. Winner. 40-yard dash 4-4/5 sec. W. M. Robinson, Worcester Academy. 300-yard run 35-1/5 " W. M. Robinson, Worcester Academy 600-yard run 1 m. 27-1/5 " R. F. Hanson, English High-School. 1000-yard run 2 " 33 " E. W. Mills, Berkeley. 45-yard low hurdles 5-4/5 " R. C. Seaver, Brookline High-School. Half-mile walk 3 " 33-3/5 " A. L. O'Toole, English High-School. Running high jump 5 ft. 6 in. A. N. Rice, Noble's. Pole vault 9 " 10 " B. Johnson, Worcester Academy. Putting 16-lb. shot 37 " 3-1/2 " M. C. O'Brien, English High-School.

Table of Points[2]

Firsts. Seconds. Thirds. Total. English High 3 1/5 2-1/5 17-3/5 Worcester Academy 3 1/5 1-1/5 16-3/5 Hopkinson 2-1/5 1-1/5 5-3/5 Noble's 1 1/5 1/5 5-3/5 Worcester High 2 1 5 Berkeley 1 5 Brookline 1 5 Phillips Andover 1-1/5 1-1/5 3-3/5 Cambridge H. and L. 1 1 3 Cushing Academy 1 2 Chauncy Hall 1 2 Medford High 1 1

[2] Firsts count 5; seconds, 2; thirds, 1.

The games opened with the 40-yard dash. Contrary to custom, the second men in the preliminary heats were to be given a chance in the semi-finals. Perhaps this accounted for the unusual amount of spirit shown. Four men equalled the record, 4-4/5 seconds, and Robinson of Worcester Academy did it three times. It looked as though the record would have to break in the final heat, with so many fliers, and every one was standing up to see it done, for that is the only record that has not been broken since the games were instituted, and to lower it by a fifth meant to equal the world's record. The six sprinters got off together, and kept well bunched all the way, except Robinson, who sneaked ahead at the 20-yard mark, and finished two yards in front of the field.

A double line of competitors took their places to start in the 1000-yard run. It was seven times around the track to the finish, but the racing began at the crack of the pistol. George Dow took the pole, with E. W. Mills, of Berkeley School, and W. F. Porter, of Chauncy Hall, close behind, and D. T. Sullivan, of Worcester High, running fifth or sixth. On the third lap Mills and Porter both passed Dow, and Sullivan, who had been playing a waiting game, dropped out with a broken shoe-lace. This was a severe blow to the chances of Worcester High, who has held the championship shield for two years. There was apparently some understanding between Mills and Porter, for when they once got in front of Dow they ran side by side, and thereby easily kept him behind. At the last turn Mills and Porter made a dash for the tape, and Mills got there first by a scant six inches, taking one-fifth of a second off the record. Dow made third, with the rest twenty yards behind.

When Delaney was debarred from the walk, O'Toole was looked upon as a sure winner. At the crack of the pistol he, with Rudickhauser and Mohan, all three for E.H.-S., started to the front. They profited by the example of Mills and Porter, and kept all spurters well behind them. On the last lap, however, Mohan and Rudickhauser were both ruled off, and then A. Lockwood, of Worcester Academy, who had been trying for three minutes to get by the bunch, worked himself abreast of O'Toole, and furnished a most exciting finish. It would have been a dead heat except that Lockwood broke into a run in almost his last step. He was ruled out, as was Malletts of Boston Latin, who had been at his heels throughout the race. Then G. Thacher, of Hopkinson, crossed the line, and was very much surprised to learn that he was second.

About this time excitement began to show itself in the English High and Worcester Academy sections. Worcester had 6 points, and English High 5, with Worcester High out of the reckoning. English High was sure of the shot, and Worcester was sure of the pole vault; while the 300 and 600 were in grave doubt, and the hurdles and high jump were conceded to other schools.

The 300-yard trials were run next, and the final of that event furnished the best race of the day. It was another case of Carleton _vs._ Robinson. Robinson had the advantage of position on the scratch, and took the pole. At every turn it seemed as if Carleton would pass him, but each time Robinson spurted just a little more, and held the place. At the last corner Carleton made a grand attempt to pull out first place, but Robinson held his own, and broke the tape a foot ahead of Carleton, and also broke Carleton's newly made record, establishing a new one of 35-1/5 seconds--a record that Wefers might find hard to smash on a similar track.

The first heat of the 600 was an easy race. W. Dadnum, of Worcester High, was first, J. J. Purtell, English High's crack, a leisurely second, and C. Boyle, of Worcester High, third. Albertson of Worcester High, who won the event last year, followed Purtell's example, and just jogged around until the last lap, when he moved up to second, J. H. Hartwell, of the other Worcester school, leading. But on the last lap two other boys moved up too--R. F. Hanson, of English High, and Mills, who had won the 1000. Just at the last turn they both slipped by the napping Albertson, who awoke to the fact that he had not qualified for the final. This was the third first place that Worcester High had counted on which had slipped through her fingers. Another waiter was W. A. Applegate, of Cambridge High, in the third heat. He ran sixth until the last lap, and then, as if he had just realized that he was in a race, tore round the corners, and pulled down the field, and finished first. Burdan of Newton was second, and Cook of Chelsea third. With Albertson out of the final, it looked like an easy thing for Purtell. But there was a big spill in the first lap. Hartwell, who was leading, fell on the third corner. Purtell, Dadnum, and Burdan fell with him. Hanson and Boyle dodged the heap, but Applegate, who was waiting again, wasn't affected by it. Boyle was leading now, twenty yards ahead of Hanson. Hanson realized that for his school to get the shield this race must be won. Slowly but surely he overhauled Boyle, and at the last turn dove forward and came in ahead. Meanwhile Applegate was tearing through the crowd with one of his thrilling finishes, and made third place. Hanson's work was the pluckiest of the day.

In the 45-yard low-hurdle race Chauncy Seaver, of Brookline High-School, was expected to win with ease, and he did not disappoint his friends, although pushed hard in the final by Mason of Worcester High. As the 45-yard hurdle race over three hurdles 2 feet 6 inches high had never been run before, Seaver was credited with the record of 5-4/5 sec. Last year a record of 6 sec. was made for the distance over four hurdles 2 feet 6 inches high. A. N. Rice had no trouble in winning the jump with a height of 5 feet 6 inches. Five men tied for second at 5 feet 4 inches, drew for the cups, and divided the points. In the weight event M. C. O'Brien put the 16-pound shot nearly five feet farther than his nearest competitor.

The last events of the programme were the team races, the teams being composed of four men each, one of whom ran 390 yards. In the relay race between Worcester High and Worcester Academy the latter's team won, doing the distance in 3 min. 20-4/5 sec, which has never been equalled before.

The Englewood High and Hyde Park schools' dual in-door athletic meeting, in the University of Chicago's gymnasium, resulted in an overwhelming victory for the former, the score being 70 to 27. The figures were not quite up to the standard of Eastern performances, but some of the records are creditable. I give the winners only: 35-yard run--Trude, Hyde Park High-School, 4-3/5 sec.; half-mile run--Teetzle, E.H.-S., 2 min. 15-4/5 sec.; 1-mile run--Hodgman, E.H.-S., 5 min. 12-3/5 sec.; 35-yard hurdle race--Teetzle, E.H.-S., 5-2/5 sec.; half-mile walk--Parker, H.P.H.-S., 3 min. 50 sec.; running high jump--Thayer, E.H.-S., 5 ft. 2-3/5 in.; standing broad jump--Flacken, E.H.-S., 9 ft. 7 in.; running broad jump--Teetzle, E.H.-S., 19 ft. 7 in.; pole vault--H. Boyce, H.P.H.-S., 8 ft. 6 in.; putting 12-lb. shot--Flacken, E.H.-S., 36 ft. 11-1/2 in. The sixteen-lap relay race was the most exciting event on the programme, and went to Englewood, the time being 4 min. 51 sec. Eight men from each school took part, running in pairs for relays of two laps.

Interest in track athletics seems to be developing very rapidly in the West, if we may judge from the formation of new leagues and athletic associations. What ought to prove an exceedingly important interscholastic organization has just been started by the schools of St. Paul and Minneapolis. It is called the Twin City Dual Interscholastic League, and its first field-meeting will be held at the Hamline Fair Grounds, May 29th. The events selected for the card are the 100-yard dash, pole vault, one-mile run, 120-yard hurdle, putting shot, one-mile bicycle, running high jump, half-mile run, throwing hammer, running broad jump, standing high jump, standing broad jump, 220-yard hurdle, 440-yard dash, and 220-yard dash. The first place in each event will count six points, the second three, and the third one. The school winning the highest number of points will earn a cup, and if it succeeds in holding it for three years it will keep the trophy.

I want to enter my usual protest against this list of events, because it contains such absurd features as the standing jumps, and because, apparently for no especial reason, six points are awarded to winners of first place, instead of five points. After very careful calculations, and after many years of experience, athletes and managers best qualified to determine such questions have decided that five points for first place and one point for third place make the closest ratio and the most just. For second place the figures are still in dispute. The colleges have adopted two, but many school associations believe that three points show a closer relation between first and second, admitting at the same time, however, that the ratio of three to one is not a fair one as between second and third.

It is a difficult problem to settle; difficult and complicated enough without having new associations coming along with new ratios. Therefore I think that if the managers of the new Twin City League will ponder over this situation for even a short time they will realize that if for the sake of uniformity only it will be well for them to bring their highest mark down to five points. As for the figure for second honors, I am personally in favor of two points. For one reason, I believe that the college athletes who adopted the 5-2-1 ratio did so after considerable study of the situation, and possibly brought statistics and mathematics into the discussion to help them.

Before the point system was in vogue, the method at the Mott Haven games was to reckon results by firsts and seconds. Thus if Yale had four firsts and no seconds while Harvard had one first and eight seconds, Yale won, of course. By points (5-2-1) the score would have been in Harvard's favor 21 to 20; or if the ratio were 5-3-1 it would have been 29 to 20! Third place was not counted unless there was a tie on firsts and seconds; and seconds, it is evident, were only desirable in case of a tie on firsts, for then the college with the most second-place winners won the day.

No combination of firsts and seconds such as I have just suggested ever came about, so far as I know; but it was figured that if any such result ever did come about, there would be dissatisfaction in the aggregation that took the large number of second places. It was admitted by all that such a team--as a team--would represent a higher standard of efficiency and development; and as the contests at Mott Haven or the Berkeley Oval are contests among teams, and not among individuals, it was decided that a more equable method of adjusting the score that settles the victory must be invented. The point system was then proposed, and those who undertook to discover what the ratio is between athletes in competition, so as to show in figures the relative value of one position to another in the order that the mathematical sum should demonstrate the respective merit of each team as a body, decided that this ratio was as five is to two and as two is to one. Their solution may be incorrect, but it is the closest yet offered, and ought to be accepted wherever points are used in scoring.

THE GRADUATE.

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.

I was finishing my last talk to you, when who should walk in but one of the very mothers about whom I was writing. She is a darling, this old schoolmate and friend of mine, but she is just now rather depressed in her mind, and a good deal out of health, and this makes her fussy and fidgety. She was very much interested in the talk about chaperonage, and declared that she never allowed her Elsie, or her Jack or Dick either, to go anywhere unaccompanied by an older person. "The boys agree with me," she said, "that they have a better time when Cousin Molly goes along than they possibly could have without her. As for me," she sighed, "I am getting to be so nervous and melancholy that I am a kill-joy, and I stay in my room even when we have guests at home."

In there came, with rosy cheeks and flying ribbons and the prettiest eyes in the room, my friend's daughter Katharine. "Now," said Katharine--and as she spoke the spring sunshine and the spring fragrance seemed to fill the room, needing not the great bunch of daffodils she laid upon my lap to give me a realization that spring was really here--"I've planned everything; papa has given me the money, and you, dear auntie, must flourish your pudding stick over mamma's head till she consents to go away for a trip. Mamma needs a change. We girls are giving up our new spring gowns, and making our old ones over, for this has been a bad year in business, in papa's line at least, and we must economize. Our gift is to fit the dear lady out becomingly. The rest of the money will pay for her tickets, and we want her to go to Cousin Kitty's, away off in Vermont, and be a girl again." Katharine poured this out in a torrent, hardly pausing for breath. Her color came and went; she was earnest and eloquent. I listened, and softly clapped my hands.

I looked at the elder Katharine. Mamma's eyes were shining. There was a far-away look in them, as of one who was remembering pleasant times and scenes. "To be a girl again!" she whispered.

"You will go, won't you, dear?" I asked, anxiously.

She hesitated a second, and then said, "Yes, if you all wish it so very much, I will take a vacation, and perhaps I'll come back very much more like myself. I owe something to daughters who are so dear and loving, and I _am_ tired."

We didn't dwell on the subject any longer then. On the contrary, we spoke of Katharine's hat, and of the pretty and sensible fashion girls have adopted of removing their hats in public places, where the great plumed things are in the way of people's eyes. It is so easy to take off one's hat and hold it, and the girls' bright heads look so homelike and attractive that one is very glad for the march which common sense and good manners have made side by side.

MARGARET E. SANGSTER.

ADVERTISEMENTS.

Arnold

Constable & Co

* * * * *

_SPRING STYLES AND DESIGNS._

Suits & Wraps

Ladies' Walking-Dresses.

Tailor-Made Suits.

Top Coats, Capes.

_Paris styles in fancy Silk Gowns, Batiste and Grenadine Waists, Silk Skirts, Wraps, and Garments._

_Orders for Easter Gowns and Spring Suits will receive prompt attention._

* * * * *

Broadway & 19th st.

NEW YORK.

Absolutely Pure.

The

Careful

Housewife

will use

no other.

ROYAL BAKING POWDER CO., 108 WALL ST., NEW-YORK.

Little Bo Peep (she fixed her sheep So fate could not abuse them--) Stuck Cupid Hair Pins in their tails, And then they couldn't lose them.

It's in the TWIST.

RICHARDSON & DELONG BROS., Philadelphia, Pa.

Makers of the famous DELONG Hook and Eye.

PRINTING OUTFIT 10c.

Sets any name in one minute; prints 500 cards an hour. You can make money with it. A font of pretty type, also Indelible Ink, Type Holder, Pads and Tweezers. Best Linen Marker; worth $1.00. Mailed for 10c. stamps for postage on outfit and catalogue of 1000 bargains. Same outfit with figures 15c. Outfit for printing two lines 25c. postpaid.

Ingersoll & Bro., Dept. No. 123. 65 Cortlandt St., 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.

Continuing the trip from Albany to Buffalo, we leave Utica in the morning, and proceed by what is called the old turnpike to New Hartford. The road is moderately level, but is sandy in places, and when out of the village limits the rider will, of course, take to the side path. Passing through New Hartford, and taking the right fork at the western extremity of the town, run on to Kirkland through Middle Settlement, a distance of five and a quarter miles. Here the road for the first three miles is moderately good, and there is a cinder side path for part of the distance. Between Middle Settlement and Kirkland it becomes a little more hilly, and the road changes to loam.

Running westward through Kirkland, proceed by the main turnpike to Vernon, passing through Lairdsville, a distance altogether of eight and a quarter miles. At Vernon do not cross the track, but keep on on the left side, running through Oneida Castle direct into Oneida by crossing the track, or if you intend to keep straight on do not cross the track, but proceed direct to Canastota, six and a half miles from Oneida Castle. Here it is possible to keep straight on to Chittenango, but the road will be found far better if the track is crossed at Canastota and the route as marked on the accompanying map followed, as in this way one or two hills are avoided. Chittenango is a good place to stop for an hour's rest if you have not already stopped at Oneida or at Canastota; but perhaps, if the trip is to be spread over a whole day, Canastota is the best place to stop for dinner. Leaving Chittenango, the road runs direct to Fayetteville, eight miles from Chittenango, and thence runs into Syracuse, passing through DeWitt. The last part of the way the roads are rather hilly, or what is called rolling. They are in reasonably good condition, the road-bed being of loam and gravel. On entering Syracuse you will find yourself on East Avenue. Proceed along this to East Genesee Street and to the Globe Hotel.

By referring to the map you will find that on the secondary or fair bicycle roads many a side trip can be made, and the map will prove of use to persons who may not have the Albany-Buffalo trip in mind particularly. For example, the route is clear from Utica to Rome, running through Whitesboro and Oriskany. In like manner it is easy, though by a somewhat roundabout route, to get to Cazenovia. The road running direct from Chittenango to Cazenovia is not a good one, and is hilly. It will pay the rider, especially if he has time, to proceed to Fayetteville, and then run down to Cazenovia, following the railroad on the route marked on the map. A pleasant variation of the ride would be to cross the railroad after leaving Oneida Castle, run through Oneida, and follow the fair bicycle road out to South Bay, running along the edge of the lake through Bridgeport, thence turning southward, passing through Manlius, and reaching the main route at Fayetteville again.

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.

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.

I am frequently asked by Round Table correspondents whether it would be a good speculation to buy the lower values of the Columbian issue, which are still on sale at many post-offices. I always answer No! for any values less than the 50c. All the dealers and speculators and a large number of collectors have loaded themselves down with these stamps. However great the demand, the supply will be ample. Everybody is alive to the value of stamps to-day, but eight years ago it was quite different. _Then_ was the time to buy; but how few availed themselves of the opportunity. Compare the prices of to-day with those of 1888:

1888. 1896. Set State Department, unused, $49.50 $287.00 " Exec. " " 6.00 49.00 " Navy " " 5.00 40.00 " Agri. " " 3.50 27.65 " 1870 Grille, " 21.30 216.00 1861 3c. Pink, " .25 25.00 1869 Set, " 9.95 87.85 1870 12c. Grille, " 2.50 75.00 " 24c. " " 5.00 100.00

Not only U.S. stamps, but the higher value stamps of almost every other country have advanced in similar ratio. It is the old story over again--"Buy when every one wants to sell, and sell when every one wants to buy." It sounds as easy as "Buy cheap and sell dear"; but how hard it is in practice.

R. PARHAM.--No premium.

EDITH F. MORRIS, 95 Third Avenue, New York city, wishes to exchange stamps.

O. T. ALDRICH.--The editor of this Department is not a dealer in either stamps or coins.

E. HILL.--It is impossible to give any general rule for the detection of the thousands of different counterfeits. In general terms it may be said that to-day only the valuable stamps are counterfeited. Formerly (1862 to 1880) even common stamps were counterfeited. My advice to young collectors is not to buy valuable stamps from irresponsible persons. Go to a responsible dealer for this class of stamps. Some counterfeits are so well made that only an expert can detect them.

E. L. SNYDER.--The prices quoted are those at which you can buy from dealers.

C. H. PECK.--The 5c. 1847 U.S. is worth 70c.

G. S. VAN SCHAICK.--There are no grilled U.S. post-cards.

A. D. F.--No premium on the coins mentioned.

E. C. WOOD.--Adhesive U. S. Revenues were first used in 1862. Periodical stamps have usually come over from Europe. See ROUND TABLE, March 10, 1896.

CLARENCE G. MICHAELIS, 3 North Twenty-first Street, East Orange, N.J., wishes to exchange stamps.

J. S. GREEN.--The Japanese stamp is still in use. The colonial and continental money are still plentiful, and can be bought in most instances for 10c. or 15c. each.

R. Q. P.--The stamps described are Revenue stamps.

C. S. POMEROY.--There are three minute varieties of the 3c. green U.S. There are three varieties in the triangles of the present stamps. See ROUND TABLE, May 14, 1895.

F. H. CULBERTSON.--The U. S. currency 3c. to 50c. can be bought at double face. Circulated or crumpled copies are worth face only.

T. EBAUGH.--I cannot repeat prices on lists of U.S. coins. See ROUND TABLE for December 17, 1895, and January 14, 1896. English coins are not collected in this country. The stamp is a French revenue. No value. The coin is Spanish, worth 25c.

MAX BECKER.--"Post Obitum" U.S. stamp of 1877 is worth $4. Grilled stamps are those stamps bearing an impression in blank stamp which is designed to cut the fibre of the paper, such as the 1868 U.S., the Peruvian 1874, etc. Stamps issued by a province of a State are called "provincial issues."

E. L.--Spanish coin worth its weight in silver only.

N. D. HOLLER.--The Peru is an envelope stamp cut square. The Mexico is a seal, not a stamp.

M. ELSBERG.--The Buda-Pesth post-cards are good for postage only when printed on the regular government post-cards.

C. BECKLY.--Your coin is Grecian, over 2000 years old. It is common. The blackness is caused by oxydization or rust.

A. L. GREENE.--Nevada 5c. stamp is worth 25c.

H. W. F.--There is no 6c. 1858 Canada. If you mean sixpence, it is worth $5. The U.S. stamps are worth from 8c. to 50c. apiece. We do not give addresses, etc., of dealers in this column. Any dealer will send you a circular of U.S. stamps.

KARL WETHERBEE.--The 3d. New South Wales 1806 is worth $1.50. The 1861 U.S. 12c. is worth 25c. The half-cent 1804 is worth $4, if in good condition.

J. HULL.--Condition counts for everything in rare stamps. At the last great auction sale an unused New Brunswick shilling sold for $80. A used copy (comparatively common) sold for $110. The unused had small, and the used large margins.

PHILATUS.

* * * * *

Wonderful Florida Springs.

I live on the east bank of the famous Ocklawaha River, six miles from the wonderful Silver Springs. The waters of the springs are clear, and the beautiful shining bottom is plainly seen, while numerous varieties of fish swim and dive into the deep sink-holes. One of these sinks is fifty feet deep, and many are evidently connected in a continuous chain of sinks that are found between this place and Ocala in the pine woods.

We had a good laugh over the story of "Kizner's Pet Sheep."

PERCY F. LISK. CONNER, FLA.

ADVERTISEMENTS.

Chosen by the

Government

The War Department proposes to test the bicycle thoroughly for army use, and recently advertised for proposals for furnishing five bicycles for the purpose. Result: Bids from $50 to $85 each for other machines; our bid of $100 each for Columbias, their invariable price. And the Government selected

Bicycles

STANDARD OF THE WORLD

The experts who made the choice decided that Columbias were worth every dollar of the $100 asked for them.

If you are willing to pay $100 for a bicycle, why be content with anything but a Columbia?

POPE MANUFACTURING CO., Hartford, Conn.

WALTER BAKER & CO., limited.

Established Dorchester, Mass., 1780.

Breakfast Cocoa

Always ask for Walter Baker & Co.'s

Breakfast Cocoa

Made at

DORCHESTER, MASS.

It bears their Trade Mark

"La Belle Chocolatiere" on every can.

Beware of Imitations.

LAUGHING CAMERA. 10c.

The latest invention in Cameras. You look through the lens and your stout friends will look like living skeletons, your thin friends like Dime Museum fat men, horses like giraffes, and in fact everything appears as though you were living in another world. Each camera contains two strong lenses in neatly finished leather case. The latest mirth-maker on the market; creates bushels of sport. Catalogue of 1,000 novelties and sample camera 10c., 3 for 25c., mailed postpaid. Agents wanted.

Robert H. Ingersoll & Bro.,

Dept. No. 27. 65 Cortlandt St., New York.

THE

BALTIMOREAN PRINTING-PRESS

has earned more money for boys than all other presses in the market. Boys, don't idle away your time when you can buy a self-inking printing-press, type, and complete outfit for $5.00. Write for particulars, there is money in it for you.

THE J. F. W. DORMAN CO.,

Baltimore, Md., U.S.A

Postage Stamps, &c.

=300= fine mixed Victoria, Cape of G. H., India, Japan, etc., with fine Stamp Album, only =10c.= New 80-p. Price-list =free=. _Agents wanted_ at =50%= commission. STANDARD STAMP CO., 4 Nicholson Place, St. Louis, Mo. Old U. S. and Confederate Stamps bought.

GOLD FREE!

Grand Prize Contest! 112 var. So. Am., West Indies, U. S., etc. A beauty! 10 cts. silver; 3 for 25 cts. If you send for this packet and ask for our grand approval sheets at 50 per cent. com., you will receive FREE a handsome present, and learn all about our wonderful GOLD OFFER.

Rugby Stamp Co., 4465 Greer Ave., St. Louis, Mo.

=STAMPS.= Confederate free if you send for our Approval Sheets at 50 per cent. commission. Enclose 2c. stamp, and give reference.

DIAMOND STAMP CO., Germantown, Pa.

$117.50 WORTH OF STAMPS FREE

to agents selling stamps from my 50% approval sheets. Send at once for circular and price-list giving full information.

C. W. Grevning, Morristown, N. J.

125

dif. Gold Coast, Costa Rica, etc., 25c.; 40 U. S., 25c. Liberal com. to agents. Large bargain list free. F. W. MILLER, 904 Olive St., St. Louis, Mo.

STAMP DEALERS.

Agents w't'd at =50%= com.

W. SAAM, 1708 Amsterdam Ave., N. Y. City.

STAMPS! 100 all dif. Barbados, etc. Only 10c. Ag'ts w't'd at 50% com. List free. L. DOVER & CO., 1469 Hodiamont, St. Louis, Mo.

Writing Letters.

II.

This series of articles on letter-writing is addressed to the Knights, but others may look over their shoulders and profit by the hints.

Use good stationery--that is, paper and envelopes of white or tint. Avoid gaudy designs. If you can afford an embossed monogram, have it small. If you have any printing at all on your paper have it embossed, preferably in dark blue, and modest, plain letters. But it is not at all necessary that stationery be embossed. Good form does not require it. What we urge you to avoid using are leaves torn from a memorandum-book, unsized paper that is made of straw, gaudy envelopes too large for the paper, and some firm's letter or note headings. Stationery is inexpensive. Better write only two letters a year and have them worthy of you than to write a hundred on ill-fitting and ill-finished paper.

When you begin a letter, do it with your street, number, city, and State. Then follow with the date. Have the last-named correct. Don't guess at it, and don't knowingly date your letters back, in order to make your correspondent think you have answered more promptly than you have. By such an act you utter an untruth. Besides, your deception is almost always seen and noted.

If you live in a small town, give the State. We receive many letters from people who do not observe this common-sense rule. We find your letter dated "Mount Vernon." The post-mark oh the envelope is indistinct. We look in the Postal Guide--an effort for you that you have no right to put your correspondent to, and one he might have been saved had you written your letter as you should have done--and there find twenty-four Mount Vernons! Then you wonder why you receive no reply!

If you live in a large city, give street and number every time you write. It does not matter if the postman lives next door to you and brings you everything directed to your name. How do your correspondents know that? We do not like to post a valuable letter addressed to "John Smith, Chicago, Ill." He may get it, but we have misgivings. And then, because you gave your address in one letter, don't say: "Oh, he knows where I live. I gave my address in my letter of last week." Yes, so you did, and the letter of last week is filed away where it will take trouble and time to find it, and get from it information that you ought to have given.

* * * * *

The Florida Seminoles.

Since my short article on "Biscayne Bay and its Marvels" was published I have received several letters requesting me to write all I know about southern Florida and the Everglades.

The Seminole Indians are a great attraction during the winter to the southeast coast of Florida. During the summer they traverse the wilds of the Everglades in search of game, which they sell during the winter to the winter visitors at West Palm Beach. The squaws have been busy making moccasins and leggings, and the bucks have been skinning and tanning the hides of deer, alligators, and other game.

The Seminoles, or most of them, are very fond of strong drink, or "wyomie," as it is called in Indian parlance. Many of them can write their names, and some can write notes. They are becoming more civilized in their mode of dress. Here is a note one Indian wrote. I give it as a specimen.

NOVEMBER 20, '95.

Whiskey Man, Sir, I tell you, you whiskey man, you good man, sir, you likes me, and my name, Jackson Charlie. Me send whiskey, big quart whiskey. See you 6th next month; me come see you; me pay you $1.25. Me sell you buckskin, smoking skin.

JACKSON CHARLIE.

The Seminoles own their farms. One of their camps is a very interesting object. They kill and smoke deer-meat, tan the hides, and sell them. There was an Indian school recently established on the east coast. It will be a great benefit if it is continued. One of the interesting Indians at Palm Beach is Little Tom Tiger. Last spring he was cut in the forehead by a bottle hurled at his head by a bad Indian. His father, old Tommie Jumper, dressed the wound and told him he must not touch a drop of wyomie for ten months. When he is spoken to about it, he will count the ten months on his fingers and say, "Ten months soon be up, and I drink wyomie again."

HARRY R. WHITCOMB. UMATILLA, FLA.

* * * * *

Amateur Newspaper Makers.

How familiar this sounds: Louis O. Brosie, publisher of the _Little Magnet_, Pittsburg, says that when he began his paper, two years ago, he sent out 100 sample copies, expecting to get from them a large number of subscriptions. Instead he got four. People were afraid to pay their money, expecting the paper would last only a few months. But Sir Louis triumphed at last. He got subscriptions and advertisements, and expects to continue his paper. He printed a Good Will Mite, and some months ago sent us $2. He now prints 500 copies.

William C Meintzer, Easton, Md., wants to join an amateur press association, especially one in Maryland. To do the latter he should write to the secretary of the Maryland Club of the N. A. P. A., G. Edward Harrison, 708 Fidelity Building, Baltimore, who is president, vice-president, or secretary of half a dozen or so other amateur clubs, and wants to make the acquaintance of other Baltimore and Maryland members of the Order. E. M. Wallace, Monmouth, Ill., wants to hear from publishers of amateur newspapers.

_Wheat Sheaf Leaflets_ is the name of a new quarterly which we have received bearing the compliments of the scholars and teachers of Wheat Sheaf School, the names of those teachers being Misses A. C. Cocker and Elizabeth Baillie. The paper, a neat eight-page one, is filled with letters written to the Priscilla Chapter, formed of pupils of the school, preceded by a song and an explanation of what the Chapter is. Modesty forbids the editors, but it does not forbid us, saying that the Priscilla is among the very best Chapters in the Order, whose work in the way of correspondence, collections, etc, has been helpful and practical. The price of _Leaflets_ is five cents a copy, and its address is Wheat Sheaf School, Frankford, Philadelphia, Pa.

* * * * *

A Very Clever Kink.

Two men declared they could name the prettiest rural drive in all England. The dispute waxing warm, they agreed to write out the route each thought to be the prettiest and hand their respective slips of paper to a third party. They did this, and when the disinterested third party, in the presence of the disputants and a few of their respective friends, opened the sealed papers it was found that one had written: "Coventry to Stratford-on-Avon, by the way of Kenilworth, Leamington, and Warwick." And the other: "Stratford-on-Avon to Coventry, by the way of Warwick, Leamington, and Kenilworth."

Of course a general laugh followed, but when it subsided, one disputant, a little piqued that he had not won beyond further cavil, remarked with some warmth that he could name to the other disputant and his friends there present the amount of a certain nobleman's fortune, doing so in plain terms, in no enigmatical phrase, and yet they, in thirty minutes' time, could not name the amount in pounds sterling. Everybody present knew the nobleman mentioned, and all were desirous of learning the amount of his wealth--a sum which the speaker, through supposed business relations, was thought to be in a position to know.

Challenged to name the sum, the man read the following, from _Macbeth_,