CHAPTER XVIII.

The next day, the 31st of October, 1753, George set forth on his arduous mission. He had before him nearly six hundred miles of travelling, much of it through an unbroken wilderness, where snow and ice and rain and hail at that season were to be expected. In the conference with the Governor and his advisers, which lasted until after midnight, George had been given _carte blanche_ in selecting his escort, which was not to exceed seven persons, until he reached Logstown, when he could take as many Indians as he thought wise. He quickly made up his mind as to whom he wanted. He wished first a person of gentle breeding, as an interpreter between himself and the French officers. He remembered Captain Jacob Vanbraam, a Dutch officer, now retired, and living at Fredericksburg, who might be induced to make the journey. Then there were Gist and John Davidson. It was thought best, however, to take an Indian along as interpreter for the Indians, as they might complain, in case of a misunderstanding, that Davidson had fooled them. In regard to the other three persons George concluded that it would be well to wait until he reached Greenway Court, which was directly in the route of his outward journey, as he would be most likely to find in that vicinity a person better used to such an expedition than in the lower country. Armed with full credentials by the Governor, and with a belt around his body containing a large sum in gold and negotiable bills, George at daylight took the road he had traversed the night before.

He determined not to take Billy on the expedition, but he rather dreaded the wild howlings and wailings which he thought it was certain Billy would set up when he found he could not go. George therefore thought it well as they trotted along to make Billy ride up with him, and describe all the anticipated hardships of the coming journey. He did not soften one line in the picture, and enlarged particularly upon the scarcity of food, and the chances of starving in the wilderness, or being scalped and roasted by Indians. Billy's countenance during this was a study. Between his devotion to George and his terror of the impending expedition Billy was in torment, and when at last George told him he must remain either at Mount Vernon or Ferry Farm, Billy did not know whether to howl or to grin.

George reached Fredericksburg that night, and went immediately to Captain Vanbraam's house. The Dutchman, a stout, middle-aged man, yet of a soldierly appearance, at once agreed to go, and, in the few hours necessary for his preparations George took the opportunity of crossing the river and spending the night with his mother and sister and brothers at Ferry Farm. His mother was full of fear for him, but she realized that this brave and gifted son was no longer solely hers--his country had need of him as soon as he came of age. Next morning Betty went with him across the river, and bade him good-by with the smiling lips and tear-filled eyes that always marked her farewells with George, her best beloved. Billy wept vociferously, but was secretly much relieved at being left behind. Four days afterwards George and Captain Vanbraam reached Greenway Court, having sent an express on the way to Gist and Davidson, who lived on the Great North Mountain.

When George burst into Lord Fairfax's library one night about dusk the Earl knew not whether to be most delighted or surprised. He immediately began to tell the Earl of his forth-coming plan, thanking him at the same time for procuring him such preferment. "And I assure you, sir," he said, with sparkling eyes, "although at first I felt a strange sinking of the heart, and was appalled at the idea that I was unequal to the task, as soon as the command was laid upon me I felt my spirits rise and my fears disappear. If I succeed I shall be very happy, and if I fail the world will say I was but a boy, after all. Why did his Excellency send an inexperienced young man on such an errand? But I shall certainly do my best."

"Angels can do no more," the Earl quoted.

George's eagerness and his boyish enthusiasm pleased the Earl, who had no taste for solemn youngsters; and he listened, smiling, as George poured forth his hopes, plans, and aspirations. When he spoke of the additional men to be taken, Lord Fairfax said:

"I know of two capable ones. Black Bear would make an excellent Indian interpreter, and Lance would be the very man to note the French fortifications. He has as good a military eye as I ever knew."

George gasped with delight.

"Do you mean, sir," he cried, "that you will really let me have Lance?"

"Go and ask him."

The young Major, who had impressed the Governor and councillors with his gravity and dignity, now jumped up and ran to the armory, bawling "Lance! Lance!" at the top of a pair of powerful lungs. Lance promptly appeared, and in three words George told him the plan. Old Lance nearly wrung George's hand off at the news.

"Well, sir, it makes me feel nigh thirty years younger to be going among the mounseers again. Maybe you think, sir, I never saw a French fort; but I tell you, sir, I have seen more French forts, ay, and been at the taking too, than they have between here and Canada."

Black Bear was across the mountain, but a messenger was sent at once for him, and he was told to bring another trusty Indian along. Within two days from reaching Greenway Court the party was ready to start. Lord Fairfax saw George set off, in high health and spirits, and full of restrained enthusiasm. He wore the buckskin shirt and leggings of a huntsman to make the journey in, but in his saddle-bags was a fine new Major's uniform of the provincial army, and he carried the rapier given him many years before by Lord Fairfax.

Seven days' hard travelling, at the beginning of the wintry season, brought the party to Logstown, not far from what is now Pittsburg. The journey had been hard, snow having fallen early, and, the fords being swollen, the party were obliged to swim their horses across the mountain streams. But George had not found time heavy on his hands. Captain Vanbraam and Lance discovered that they had served in different campaigns in the same region, and, without forgetting the status between an officer and a private soldier, they were extremely good comrades, much to George's delight.

On their arrival at Logstown, Black Bear at once went in search of his father, the great chief of one of the Six Nations, and the other chiefs were assembled in the course of a day or two. George found them much incensed against the French, but, like all their tribe, before they could act they had to have many meetings and a great oratorical display. George, who loved not speech-making, made them but one brief address, and by using all his powers managed to get Tanacharison and representatives of the other tribes off, and in a few days more they arrived at a French outpost. It was merely a log house with the French colors flying over it. George, waiting until dusk, and leaving his Indian allies out of sight, taking only with him Vanbraam and Lance, as his servant, rode up to the door and knocked. Three French officers appeared, and on seeing two gentlemen in uniform, the senior, Captain Joncaire, civilly asked them, in broken English, to alight and sup with them.

George, with equal politeness, told them that he was the bearer of a letter to M. de St.-Pierre, the commandant at the French fort farther up, but would be pleased to accept their hospitality.

Inside the house was quite comfortable, and the party, except Lance, who waited on the table, soon sat down to supper. As George had frankly informed them of his mission, it behooved them to be prudent, and so they were until the wine began to flow. Captain Vanbraam had not thought it his duty to let on that he understood French, and the conversation had been conducted in such English as the French could command. George, although he could not speak French, could understand it a little, especially with the help of the abundant gestures the French used.

He had always had a contempt for men who "put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains," and the spectacle soon presented by the French officers made him vow inwardly that never, so long as he lived, would he put himself in the condition they were then in. These men, brave and otherwise discreet, passed the bottle so often that they soon lost all sense of prudence, and, turning from broken English to French, told things in regard to their military plans which they would rather have died than betray. Captain Joncaire, forgetting, in his maudlin state, that George had said he did not understand French well, turned to him and said, in French:

"Ah, you English mean to drive us out. Well, let me tell you we are not to be driven out. We expect to go to war with your country soon, and this is a good place to begin. We know that you can raise two men to our one, but you have a dilatory, foolish Governor in Virginia, and he will let us overrun the country before he does anything to stop us."

As he kept on, giving information about his people that he should never have done, and which George partly understood, such keen contempt came into George's eyes that a gleam of soberness returned to Captain Joncaire, and for a few minutes he said no more. But "when the wine is in the wit is out," and the Frenchmen continued to talk in the foolish manner which awaits the wisest man when he makes a beast of himself with liquor.

At ten o'clock George and Captain Vanbraam had to tear themselves away from the Frenchmen, who, drunker than ever, tried to hold them back by embracing them.

As they made their way back to their camp Captain Vanbraam repeated every word the drunken officers had said. George spoke little. The spectacle was not only disgusting but painful to him.

Next morning, early, Captain Joncaire sought out their camp, and professed great surprise at seeing the Indians, whom he declared to be his friends. He invited them to the house, where George well knew there would be liquor and cajolery in plenty for them.

"My dear Major Washington," cried Joncaire, after a while, and coloring slightly as he spoke, "I am afraid you had us at a disadvantage last night. We talked rather wildly, I fancy, but don't put too much confidence in what we said when the wine was flowing."

"I am compelled to put confidence in what Captain Joncaire and his officers say, drunk or sober," was George's reply, delivered not without sarcasm, at which Captain Joncaire winced. The Frenchmen invited the Indians to their post, and George had the mortification of seeing them all carried off, except Tanacharison and his son Black Bear; and when, in the evening, he sent for the chiefs, they returned to him stupidly drunk and loaded with presents from the French.

"We must get them away as soon as possible," said George to his white followers and his two faithful Indians. Tanacharison, a venerable old chief and a man of great eloquence, watched the Indians in their drunken sleep, and when they wakened, although it was near sun-down, so worked upon them by a speech he made them, that they agreed to leave with the rest of the party. George and Captain Vanbraam went to the French post to bid the officers a polite farewell.

Captain Joncaire said many civil things to them, and sent them a handsome present of provisions, but was evidently chagrined at the Indians being carried off under his very nose.

Eleven days more of travelling through intense cold, with the snow deep on the ground, brought the party to Fort Le Boeuf, on French Creek, about fifteen miles from Lake Erie. This was commanded by M. Legardeur de St.-Pierre, an old French officer of great ability, and a chevalier of the military order of St. Louis.

The party reached the fort late in the evening, and found it a stout place, well adapted for defence. George rode up to the gate--his horse now a sorry-looking creature--and asked to be conducted to the commandant. As soon as the message was delivered M. de St.-Pierre came out in person, and, receiving the letter from the Governor of Virginia with great respect, raising his hat in taking it, invited Major Washington's party in.

Although strictly attending to the commandant's conversation, George used his keen eyes to the utmost advantage, and he felt sure that Lance was doing the same thing. There were over a hundred soldiers in the fort, and not less than thirty officers.

George and his party were led through a court-yard, around which were barracks and officers' quarters, protected by bastions well provided with artillery. Arrived at the commandant's quarters, M. de St.-Pierre said, courteously, in English,

"When you and your party have refreshed yourselves for a day or two, Major Washington, we will discuss the matters contained in the Governor's letter."

Now this was just what George did not desire. He knew that every artifice would be practised on his Indian allies to win them to the French, as Captain Joncaire had done, with much greater prospect of success. How would he persuade them to leave the good food, the seductive liquor, and the presents that he felt sure the French were ready to shower upon them? His only dependence was upon Tanacharison and Black Bear. How often did he rejoice inwardly over that bucket of water he had given to Black Bear the night of the attack at Greenway Court, six years before! His reply, therefore, to the French commandant was polite but positive:

"I thank you, sir, for your kindness, but I am ready at this moment to proceed to the consideration of his Excellency's letter."

This slightly disconcerted M. de St.-Pierre, who had some inward contempt for the youth of the ambassador sent by the Governor.

"I shall have to send for my second in command, Captain Reparti," he said, "who left us this morning to visit another post."

"I hope, monsieur, that you will send for him at your earliest convenience, for my orders are peremptory--to deliver the letter and return with an answer at the earliest possible moment."

"If I send this evening," remarked M. de St.-Pierre, "my messenger might lose his way in the darkness."

"If you will kindly give me the directions, sir," answered George, with much politeness, "I have men in my party who can make the journey by night, although they have never traversed this part of the country before."

"I will send, however, immediately," said M. de St.-Pierre, coloring slightly, and comprehending that he was dealing with a natural diplomatist.

After a very agreeable dinner George was shown to his room, where Lance, as his servant, awaited him. Scarcely was the door closed before George began, anxiously,

"Where are the Indians?"

"In the barrack-room, sir. The French soldiers are promising them guns and powder and shot and hatchets, and pouring liquor down all of them except Tanacharison and Black Bear, who won't drink, and who mean to be true to us. But, sir, you can't blame the poor devils for taking what the French give them."

"We must get away from here as soon as possible," cried George. "What have you noticed in the fort, Lance?"

"That it's mighty well made, sir; the mounseers are fine engineers, and they know how to build a fort. They have eight six-pounders mounted in the bastions, and a four-pounder at the gate-house. But they have got a lot more places pierced for guns, and you may depend upon it, sir, they have a-plenty more guns than they choose to show stowed away somewhere."

Next morning, Captain Reparti having arrived, M. de St.-Pierre and his officers considered the Governor's letter privately, and then, admitting George, with his interpreter, Captain Vanbraam, an answer was dictated denying the right of the English to any part of the country watered by the Ohio River. This was an important and dangerous announcement, and although not a word was said about war, yet every man present knew that if this contention were maintained England and France must fight, and the country must be drenched with blood. George, with perfect composure, received the letter, and, rising, said:

"My mission, sir, is accomplished. I have delivered the Governor's letter, and your reply, M. de St.-Pierre, shall be conveyed not only to the Governor, but to his Britannic Majesty. I am now ready to take my leave."

"Do not be in so great a hurry to leave us, Major Washington," said M. de St.-Pierre, suavely. "Some of my young officers promised a few guns to your Indian allies, by way of making them satisfied to remain during our negotiation, which I thought would be longer, and the guns cannot arrive until to-morrow morning."

As George knew the impossibility of getting the Indians off without the guns, he consented with the utmost readiness to remain; but he would have given half his fortune to have got off.

The day was one of intense nervous strain on him. His sole dependence in managing the Indians were Tanacharison and Black Bear. And what if they should betray him? But at night the old chief and his son came to him and promised most solemnly to get the chiefs away as soon as the guns should arrive in the morning. George had a luxurious bed in his rude though comfortable quarters, but he slept not one wink that night. By daylight he was up. Soon after Lance sidled up to him in the court-yard, and said,

"Sir, the guns have come--I saw them myself; but the Frenchies will not say a word about it unless they are asked."

Just then M. de St.-Pierre, wrapped in a great surtout, appeared, coming out of his quarters.

"Good-morning, Major Washington!" he cried.

"Good-morning, M. de St.-Pierre!" replied George, gayly. "I must give orders to my party for an early start, as the guns you promised the Indians have arrived, and I have no further excuse for remaining."

"Sacre bleu!" burst out M. de St.-Pierre; "I did not expect the guns so soon!" At which he looked into George's eyes, and suddenly both burst out laughing. The Frenchman saw that his _ruse_ was understood.

The party were soon collected, and after a hearty breakfast George took his leave, and, much to the chagrin of the French, succeeded in carrying off all his Indian allies with him. They rapidly retraced their road, and when they made their first halt, ten miles from Fort Le Boeuf, George exclaimed, aside to Lance,

"This is the first easy moment I have known for twenty-four hours."

"'Tis the first I have had, sir, since we got to the first post, fourteen days ago!"

It was now the latter part of December. The horses, gaunt and starved, were no longer fit for riding, and George set the example of dismounting and going on foot. Their progress with so large a party was not rapid, and George determined to leave Captain Vanbraam, with the horses and provisions, to follow, while he, in his health and strength, set off at a more rapid gait, in order that he might reach Williamsburg with M. de St.-Pierre's defiant letter as soon as possible. Lance, with his experience as a foot-soldier, easily proved his superiority when they were reduced to walking, so George chose him as a companion. Christmas day was spent in a long, hard march, and on the next day George, dressing himself in his buckskin shirt and leggings, with his gun and valuable papers, and giving most of the money for the expedition to Captain Vanbraam, struck off with Lance for a more rapid progress.

The two walked steadily all day, and covered almost twice as much ground as the party following them. At night, with their flints, they struck a roaring fire in the forest, and took turns in watching and sleeping. By daylight they were again afoot.

"I never saw such a good pair of legs as you have, sir, in all my life," said Lance, on this day, as they trudged along. "My regiment was counted to have the best legs for steady work in all the Duke of Marlborough's army, and mine were considered the best pair in the regiment, but you put me to my trumps."

"Perhaps if you were as young as I you would put me to _my_ trumps, for--"

At this moment a shot rang out on the frozen air, and a bullet made a clean hole through George's buckskin cap. One glance showed him an Indian crouching in the brushwood. With a spring as quick and sure as a panther's, George had the savage by the throat, and wrenched the firelock, still smoking, from his hand. Behind him half a dozen Indian figures were seen stealing off through the trees. Lance walked up, and raising a hatchet over the Indian's head, said, coolly,

"Mr. Washington, we must kill him as we would a snake."

"No," replied George, "I will not have him killed."[2]

[2] Washington, in his journal, speaks of the Indian firing at him at short range, but says nothing of his preventing his companion from killing the would-be murderer. But his companion expressly says that he would have killed the Indian on the spot had not Washington forbidden him. The Indians became very superstitious about Washington's immunity from bullets, especially after Braddock's defeat. In that battle he was the target for the best marksmen among them, and not only escaped without a scratch, although two horses were killed under him and his clothes riddled with bullets, but he was the only officer of Braddock's military family who survived.

The Indian, standing perfectly erect and apparently unconcerned, understood well enough that the question of his life or death was under discussion, but with a more than Roman fortitude he awaited his fate, glancing indifferently meanwhile at the glittering edge of the hatchet still held over him.

George took the hatchet from Lance's hand, and said to the Indian, in English: "Though you have tried to kill me, I will spare your life. But I will not trust you behind me. Walk ten paces in front of us, in the direction of the Alleghany River."

The Indian turned, and, after getting his bearings, started off in a manner which showed he understood what was required of him.

The Indians have keen ears, so that George and Lance dared not speak in his hearing, but by exchanging signs they conveyed to each other that there were enemies on their path, of whom this fellow was only one.

Steadily the three tramped for hours, Lance carrying the Indian's gun. When darkness came on they stopped and made the Indian make the fire, which he did, scowling, as being squaw's work. They then divided with him their scanty ration of dried venison, and, George taking charge of the guns, Lance slept two hours. He was then wakened by George, who lay down by the fire and slept two hours, when he too was wakened. George then said to the Indian, who had remained sleepless and upright all the time:

"We have determined to let you go, as we have not food enough for three men. Go back to your tribe, and tell them that we spared your life; but before you go pile wood on the fire, for we may have to remain here, on account of the rise in the river, for several days."

This was a _ruse_, but the Indian fell at once into the trap. After replenishing the fire he started off in a northwesterly direction. As soon as George and Lance were sure that he was out of sight they made off in the opposite direction, and after some hours of trudging through snow and ice they found themselves on the bank of the river. They had hoped to find it frozen over, but, instead, there was only a fringe of ice-cakes along the shores and swirling about in the main channel.

Lance looked at George in some discouragement, but George only said, cheerfully: "It is lucky you have the hatchet, Lance. We must make a raft."

The short winter day was nearly done before a rude raft was made, and on it the two embarked. The piercing wind dashed their frail contrivance about, and it was buffeted to and fro by the floating ice. They could not make the opposite shore, but were forced to land on an island, where they spent the night. The hardships told on the older man, and George saw, by the despairing look in Lance's eyes, that he could do no more that day. Wood, however, was plentiful, and a great fire was made.

"Cheer up, Lance!" cried George, when the fire began to blaze: "there is still more dried venison left. You shall sleep to-night, and in the morning the river will be frozen over, and one more day's march will bring us to civilization."

Lance was deeply mortified at his temporary collapse, but there was no denying it. George had but little sleep that night. Five days afterwards the two parted--Lance to return to Greenway Court, and George to press on to Williamsburg. By that time they had secured horses.

"Good-by, my friend," said George. "Tell my lord that nothing but the urgency of the case prevented me from giving myself the happiness of seeing him, and that no day has passed since he sent you with me that I have not thanked him in my heart for your company."

A subtle quiver came upon Lance's rugged face.

"Mr. Washington," he said, "I thank you humbly for what you have said; but mark my words, sir, the time will come, if it is not already here, that my lord will be thankful for every hour that you have spent with him, and proud for every step of advancement he has helped you to."

"I hope so, my friend," cried George, gayly, and turning to go.

Lance watched the tall, lithe young figure in hunting-clothes, worn and torn, riding jauntily off, until George was out of sight. Then he himself struck out for Greenway Court. Four days afterwards a tattered figure rode up to Mount Vernon. The negroes laughed and cried and yah-yahed at seeing "Marse George" in such a plight. Spending only one night there, in order to get some clothes and necessaries, he left at daybreak for Williamsburg, where he arrived and reported to the Governor, exactly eleven weeks from the day he started on this terrible journey.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

TURKEY, "THE SICK MAN."

BY V. GRIBAYÉDOFF.

It is now forty-three years since Czar Nicholas I., in conversation with the British ambassador at St. Petersburg, referred to Turkey as the "Sick Man," and suggested that Great Britain and Russia deal him his death-blow and divide up his heritage. We all know that Great Britain not only rejected the proposition, but, with France and Turkey as allies, not long after declared war on the Russian Empire. This Crimean war cost the great powers engaged in it thousands and thousands of men and millions and millions of money, and when peace was signed in 1856, Russia found herself deprived of some territory on the Roumanian frontier and of the right to maintain a fleet in the Black Sea.

The result acted as medicine on the "Sick Man." Propped up on each side by the western powers, he raised his head and endeavored to feel himself again. He has had several relapses since that period, one notably in 1877-8, when the Russian troops encamped within view of Constantinople. Great Britain again came to his rescue, and prevented some of the amputations planned by the Muscovite--amputations which would surely have led to his demise from sheer loss of blood. For this good service England did a little amputating on her own account, and added to her dominions the fertile island of Cyprus, in the Mediterranean. The "Sick Man" thus obtained another lease of life, but recent events would indicate that his end is at last approaching--as one writer has put it, from sheer inner putrition; and this time there is no sympathizing friend to stretch a helping hand, none to ward off his well-merited fate!

Even those Englishmen who have been most bitterly opposed in the past to a conciliatory policy toward Russia are beginning to recognize the mistake of upholding Turkish rule in Europe. As one English religious journal recently remarked, while advocating the substitution of the Russian for the Turkish flag in Constantinople, "The Czar's rule is bad enough, but there is in the hearts of the Russian people the seed of better things." And it really seems an anomaly that England, of all countries--England, the land of John Howard, of William Wilberforce, of David Livingstone--should have been instrumental in maintaining that pestiferous charnel-house on the banks of the Bosporus! Better a thousand times that the Turkish government should be abolished!

The recent massacres in Armenia and Constantinople are but repetitions of the events of former years. When the Russian troops crossed the Danube in 1853 they found many Bulgarian villages pillaged and their inhabitants massacred by the irregular Turkish troops. The horrible stories that are being told to us daily from Armenia are the same as those told in 1853 from Bulgaria. Towns were burned to ashes, and the inhabitants were burned with them or were killed in attempting to escape from them. Nevertheless, the innate barbarity of the Turk did not prevent the western powers from coming to his help in those days!

In 1861 there were other terrible massacres in the Ottoman Empire, the Christian Maronites of the Lebanon being the victims this time. In the course of a few days five thousand men, women, and children were slaughtered in and around Damascus. This pill was even too much for the Sultan's complacent western friends, and that potentate was obliged to submit to the landing of a French army of intervention in Syria. The many thousands of murders in the Lebanon district were avenged by the execution of about fifty Mussulman ringleaders, after which the French withdrew, with colors flying, to the time of "Partant pour la Syrie."

In 1876 the barbarities of the Turks in Bulgaria aroused, as we know, the indignation of the whole civilized world. Here was a brilliant opportunity for putting an end, once and for all, to Mussulman authority over a Christian population, and yet such was the jealousy of the great European powers, one for another, that they could not agree, and at the eleventh hour, as the Russians were about to grasp the prize--Constantinople--a British fleet was sent to the Sea of Marmora, and the Turk was saved once more, as above stated, to perpetrate further atrocities in the name of law and order!

It is a long lane that has no turning, and let us trust, therefore, that the symptoms pointing to the Porte's approaching dissolution are not deceptive. When the end does come it will come with a crash. A glance at the photographs on these pages will convey an idea of the kind of men still at the Sultan's beck and call. They certainly do not look as if they would give up to the Giaour without a struggle. Indeed, if the lessons of history count for anything, the unspeakable Turk will fight tooth and nail to maintain his supremacy. Since the days of Osman, founder of the present dynasty, nay, even as far back as the first century of the Christian era, the ancestors of the modern Turk were redoubtable warriors and conquerors. Even in the present century, although usually unfortunate in the outcome of their wars, they have given evidence of the old fearlessness and disregard for death. The defense of Plevna furnishes a brilliant example of Turkish bravery and obstinacy.

The pictures here presented have a peculiar interest at this moment. They represent the regiments garrisoned in Constantinople upon whom the Sultan can count in any emergency. These men are well clothed, well fed, and receive their pay with regularity, unlike the troops in the provinces, who have been wretchedly neglected of late years. These crack regiments are the regular imperial guard, line infantry, zouaves, and marines. They are picked men of Turkish race, and are decidedly more respectable than the irregulars shown in another group. It is the latter who, after the Sultan himself, are to be held accountable for the recent horrible massacres. It is they who organized themselves into marauding bands and spread death and devastation among the unhappy Armenians, with the cognizance of the camarilla at the Yildiz Kiosk, or Sultan's palace.

When the final day of reckoning arrives, it is sincerely to be hoped that this gentry will come in for some attention. The civilized world has an old score against them. May it speak in no uncertain tone--in the same voice that thundered ten thousand Turkish assassins to their doom at the sea-fight at Navarino of blessed memory! Those were the days of noble impulses and lofty aspirations, when international jealousies were powerless to sway the councils of nations and stifle the cry of the oppressed. Those were the days of Canning and of Byron. Would that some such men were alive to-day to teach Europe her sacred duty.

THE VOYAGE OF THE "RATTLETRAP."

BY HAYDEN CARRUTH.

X.

After we got back to the Rattletrap we promised ourselves plenty of sport the next day watching the freighters with their long teams and wagon trains. Jack could not recover from his first glimpse of Henderson.

"Rather a neat little turnout to take a young lady out driving with," he said, after we had gone to bed. "Twenty-two oxen and four wagons. Plenty of room. Take along her father and mother. And the rest of the family. And her school-mates. And the whole town. Good team to go after the doctor with if somebody was sick--mile and a half an hour. That trotting-cow man at Yankton ought to come up here and show Henderson a little speed. Still, I dare say Henderson could best Old Browny, on a good day for sleeping, and when he didn't have Blacky to pull him along."

But we got small sight of the trail the next day, as the rain we had left behind came upon us again in greater force than ever. It began toward morning, and when we looked out, just as it was becoming light, we found it coming down in sheets--"cold, wet sheets," as Ollie said, too.

We could watch the road from the front of the wagon, and saw a number of freighters go by, usually with empty wagons, as it soon became too muddy for those with loads. We saw one fourteen-ox team with four wagons, and another man with twelve oxen and three wagons. There were also a number of mule teams, and we noticed one of twelve mules and five wagons, and several of ten mules and three or four wagons. With these the driver always rode the nigh-wheel animal--that is, the left-hand rear one.

"I'm going to put a saddle on Old Blacky and ride him after this," said Jack. "Bound to be in the fashion. Wonder how Henderson is getting along in the mud? A mile in two hours, I suppose. Must be impossible for him to see the head oxen through this rain."

The downpour never stopped all day. We tried letter-writing, but it was too cold to hold the pen; and Jack's efforts at playing the banjo proved equally unsuccessful. We fell back on reading, but even this did not seem to be very satisfactory. So we finally settled down to watching the rain and listening to the wind.

When evening came we shut down the front of the cover and tried to warm up the cabin a little by leaving the oil-stove burning, but it didn't seem to make much difference. So we soon went to bed, rather damp, somewhat cold, and a little dispirited. I think we all staid awake for a long time listening to the beating of the rain on the cover, and wondering about the weather of the morrow.

When we awoke in the morning it did not take long to find out about the weather. The rain had ceased and the sky was clear, but it was colder. Outside we found ice on the little pools of water in the footprints of the horses. We were stiff and cold. Some of us may have thought of the comforts of home, but none of us said anything about them.

"This is what I like," said Jack. "Don't feel I'm living unless I find my shoes frozen in the morning. Like to break the ice when I go to wash my face and hands, and to have my hair freeze before I can comb it."

But we observed that he kept as close to the camp-fire which we started as any of us. We went up to Smith's to look after the horses. While Jack and I were at the sheds Ollie staid in the road watching the freight teams. A big swarthy man, over six feet in height, came along, and after looking over the fence at Smith's house some time, said to Ollie,

"Do you s'pose Smith's at home?"

"Oh, I guess so," answered Ollie.

"I'd like to see him," went on the man, with an uneasy air.

"Probably you'll find him eating breakfast," said Ollie.

"I don't like to go in," said the man.

"Why not?"

"I'm--I'm afraid of the dog."

"Oh!" replied Ollie. "Well, I'm not. Come on," and he stalked ahead very bravely, while the man followed cautiously behind.

"He's a Mexican," said Smith in explanation afterwards. "All Mexicans are afraid of dogs."

"That's a pretty broad statement," said Jack, after Smith had gone. "I believe, if there was a good reward offered, that I could find a Mexican who isn't afraid of dogs. Though perhaps it's the hair they're afraid of; Mexican dogs don't have any, you know."

"Don't any of them have hair?" asked Ollie.

"Not a hair," answered his truthful uncle. "I don't suppose a Mexican dog would know a hair if he saw it."

"I think that's a bigger story than Smith's," said Ollie.

It was Sunday, and we spent most of the day in the wagon, though we took a long walk up the valley in the afternoon. The first thing Ollie said the next morning was, "When are we going to see the buffaloes?"

Smith had been telling us about them the evening before. They were down town, and belonged to a Dr. McGillicuddie. They had been brought in recently from the Rosebud Indian Agency, and had been captured some time before in the Bad Lands.

We followed the trail, now as deep with mud as it had been with dust, meeting many freighters on the way, and found the buffaloes near the Deadwood stage barn.

"See!" exclaimed Ollie; "there they are in the yard."

"Don't say 'yard,'" returned Jack; "say 'corral,' with a good, strong accent on the last syllable. A yard is a corral, and a farm a ranch, and a revolver a six-shooter--and a lot more. _Don't_ be green, Oliver."

"Oh, bother!" replied Ollie. "There's ten of 'em. See the big fellow!"

"They're nice ones, that's so," answered Jack. "I'd like to see the Yankton man we heard about try to milk that cow over in the corner."

After we had seen the buffaloes we wandered about town and jingled our spurs, which were quite in the fashion. We encountered a big crowd in front of one of the markets, and found that a hunter had just come in from the mountains to the west with the carcass of the biggest bear ever brought into Rapid City. Some said it was a grizzly, and others a silver-tip, and one man tried to settle the difficulty by saying that there wasn't any difference between them. But it was certainly a big bear, and filled the whole wagon-box. Ollie sidled through the crowd, and asked so many questions of the man, who was named Reynolds, that he good-naturedly gave Ollie one of the largest of the claws. It was five inches long.

At noon we went down to the camp of the freighters on the outskirts of town, near Rapid Creek. There must have been fifty "outfits"--Jack said that was the right word--and several hundred mules as many oxen, and a few horses. The animals were, most of them, wandering about wherever they pleased, the mules and horses taking their dinner out of nose-bags, and the mules keeping up a gentle exercise by kicking at one another. It seemed a hopeless confusion, but the men were sitting about on the ground, calmly cooking their dinners over little camp-fires. One man, whom we had got acquainted with in the morning at Smith's, asked us to have dinner with him, and made the invitation so pressing that we accepted. He had several gallons of coffee and plenty of bacon and canned fruit, and a peculiar kind of bread, which he had baked himself.

"I'm a-thinking," he said, "there ain't enough sal'ratus in that there bread; but I'm a poor cook, anyhow."

The bread seemed to us to be already composed chiefly of saleratus, so his apology struck us as unnecessary. He very kindly wrote out the receipt on a shingle for Jack, but I stole it away from him after we got home and burned it in the camp-fire; so we escaped _that_.

"Your pancakes are bad enough," I said to him. "We don't care to try your saleratus bread."

Jack was a good deal worked up about the loss of his receipt, and experimented a long time to produce something like the freighter's bread without it, but as Snoozer wouldn't try the stuff he made, and he was afraid to do so himself, nothing came of it.

We enjoyed our dinner with the man, however, and Jack added further to his vocabulary in finding that the drivers of the ox teams were called "bullwhackers," and those of the mules and horses "muleskinners."

In the afternoon we climbed the hill above our camp. It gave us a long view off to the east across the level country, while away to the west were the mountain-peaks rising higher and higher. It was still cold, and the raw northeast wind moaned through the pines in a way which made us think of winter.

We went to bed early that night, so as to get a good start for Deadwood the next day. We brought the horses down from the ranch in the evening, blanketed them, and stood them out of the wind among some trees.

"Four o'clock must see us rolling out of our comfortable beds and getting ready to start," said Jack, as we turned in. "We must play we are freighters."

Jack planned better than he knew; we really "rolled out" in an exceedingly lively manner at three o'clock. We were sleeping soundly at that hour, when we were awakened by the motion of the wagon. Jack and I sat up. It was swaying from side to side, and we could hear the wheels bumping on the stones. The back end was considerably lower than the front.

"It's running down the bank!" I cried, and we both plunged through the darkness for the brake-handle. We fell over Ollie and Snoozer, and were instantly hopelessly tangled. It seemed an age, with the wagon swaying more and more, before we found the handle. Jack pushed it up hard, we heard the brake grind on the wheels outside; then there was a great bump and splash, and the wagon tilted half over and stopped. We found ourselves lying on the side of the cover, with cold water rising about us. We were not long in getting out, and discovered that the Rattletrap was capsized in the mill-race.

"Old Blacky did it!" cried Jack, as he danced around and shook his wet clothes. "I know he did. The old sinner!"

We got out the lantern and lit it. Only the hind end of the wagon was really in the race; one front wheel still clung to the bank, and the other was up in the air. Ollie got in and began to pass things out to Jack, while I went up the hill after the horses. Jack was right. Old Blacky was evidently the author of our misfortune. He had broken loose in some manner, and probably begun his favorite operation of making his toilet on the corner of the wagon by rubbing against it. The brake had carelessly been left off, he had pushed the wagon back a few feet, and it had gone over the bank. I soon had the harness on the horses, and got them down the hill. We hitched them to the hind wheel with a long rope, Jack wading in the water to his waist, and pulled the wagon upright. Then we attached them to the end of the tongue, and after hard work drew it out of the race. By this time we were chilled through and through. Our beds and nearly everything we had were soaking with water.

"How do you like it, Uncle Jack?" inquired Ollie. "Do you feel that you are living now?"

Jack's teeth were chattering. "Y--yes," he said; "but I won't be if we don't get a fire started pretty quick."

There were some timbers from an old bridge near by, and we soon had a good fire, around which we tramped in a procession till our clothes were fairly dry. The wind was chilly, and it was a dark cloudy morning. The unfortunate Snoozer had gone down with the rest of us, and was the picture of despair, till Ollie rubbed him with a dry corner of a blanket, and gave him a good place beside the fire.

By the time two or three hours had elapsed we began to feel partially dry, and decided to start on, relying on exercise to keep ourselves warm. We had had breakfast in the mean time, and, on the whole, were feeling rather cheerful again. We opened the cover and spread out the bedding, inside and outside, and hung some of it on a long pole which we stuck into the wagon from the rear. Altogether we presented a rather funny appearance as we started out along the trail, but no one paid much attention to us. The freighters were already astir, and we were constantly passing or meeting their long trains. Among others we passed Eugene Brooks, the man with whom we had taken dinner. We told him of our mishap, and he laughed, and said:

"That's nothing in this country. Something's always happening here which would kill folks anywhere else. You stay here awhile and you'll be as tough as your old black horse."

Brooks had an outfit of five spans of mules and two wagons. We staid with him a half-hour, and then went on. As we could not reach Deadwood that day, he advised us to camp that night where the trail crossed Thunder Butte Creek, a branch of La Belle Fourche.

The trail led for the most part through valleys or along the sides of hills, and was generally not far from level, though there was, of course, a constant though hardly perceptible rise as we got farther into the mountains. We camped at noon at Elk Creek, and made further progress at drying our household effects. We pressed on during the afternoon, and passed through the town of Sturgis, where we laid in some stores of provisions to take the place of those spoiled by the water, and also a quantity of horse-feed. We congratulated ourselves later on our good luck in doing this.

As the afternoon wore away we found ourselves getting up above the timber-line. The mountains began to shut in our view in all directions, and the valleys were narrowing. As night drew nearer, Jack said:

"Seems to me it's about time we got to this Thunder Butte Creek. He said that if we passed Sturgis we'd have to go on to that if we wanted water."

We soon met a man, and inquired of him the distance to the desired stream. "Two miles," he replied, promptly. We went on as much as a mile and met another man, to whom we put the same question. "Three miles," he answered, with great decision.

"That creek seems to be retreating," said Jack, after the man had gone on. "We've got to hurry and catch it, or it will run clean into Deadwood and crawl down a gold-mine."

It was growing dark. We forged ahead for another mile, and by this time it was quite as dark as it was going to be, with a cloudy sky, and mountains and pines shutting out half of that. I was walking ahead with the lantern, and came to a place where the trail divided.

"The road forks here," I called. "Which do you suppose is right?"

"Which seems to be the most travelled?" asked Jack.

"Can't see any difference," I replied. "We'll have to leave it to the instinct of the horses."

"Yes, I'd like to put myself in the grasp of Old Blacky's instinct. The old scoundrel would go wrong if he knew which was right."

"Well," I returned, "come on and see which way he turns, and then go the other way." (Jack always declared that the old fellow understood what I said.)

He drove up to the forks, and Blacky turned to the right. Jack drew over to the left, and we went up that road. We continued to go up it for fully three miles, though we soon became convinced that it was wrong. It constantly grew narrower and apparently less travelled. We were soon winding along a mountain-side among the pines, and around and above and below great rocks.

"We'll go till we find a decent place to camp, and then stop for the night," said Jack.

We finally came to a little level bench covered with giant pines, and we could hear water beyond. I went on with the lantern, and found a small stream leaping down a gulch.

"This is the place to stop," I said, and we soon had our camp established, and a good fire roaring up into the tree-tops. Ollie found plenty of dry pine wood, and we blanketed the horses and stood under a protecting ledge. It was cold, and the wind roared down the gulch and moaned in the pines, but we scarcely felt it blow. We finished drying our bedding and had a good supper. Jack got out his banjo and tried to compete with the brook and the pines. We went to bed feeling that we were glad we had missed the road, since it had brought so delightful a camping-place.

Ollie was the first to wake in the morning. It was quite light.

"What makes the cover sag down so?" he asked.

Jack opened his eyes, reached up with the whipstock and raised it. Something slid off the outside with a rush.

"Open the front and you'll see," answered Jack.

Ollie did so, and we all looked out. The ground was deep with snow, and it was still falling in great feathery flakes. Old Blacky was loose, and looked in at us with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

The championship season in football is now fairly under way in almost every section of the country, and the reports that come in from all sides are of a most promising nature for the welfare of the sport. More players in a greater number of schools spread over a broader area of the country are at work on the gridiron this year than ever before, and the colleges may feel confident of receiving a higher grade of raw material in the future than has ever come in with any previous Freshman class.

In the Boston Association the number of schools in the Junior League has become so large as to make it necessary to divide it into two sections, the winners of each to play off to decide the championship; and then, of course, the champion of the Juniors must play the tail-ender in the Senior League to determine whether or not they exchange places. Newton, Somerville, Chelsea, and Medford form one division of the Junior League; Roxbury Latin, Dedham, Hyde Park, and Dorchester the other. Dorchester and Medford are new-comers, and thus, to a certain extent, unknown quantities. Somerville High, having won the championship of the Junior League last year, will now move up into the Senior ranks, and from present appearances the team ought to make a good showing. In the game with Tufts College, Somerville held the collegians down to one touch-down in a twenty-minute half. They developed good team-work in their aggressive play, but when on the defence they were not so strong. This is the natural result of practice work against a weaker team, such as a second eleven usually is. The only way to develop a strong defence is to practise against stronger opponents, hence the advisability of as many matches with outsiders as possible.

The weak spots in the Somerville team are the guards. They are somewhat light, but with training and careful coaching should develop well, Almeida, the captain, is a good man, and is playing an unusually strong game at quarter for a captain. If he can manage his men as well as they were managed last season, Somerville need have no fears of losing its position in the Senior League. The backs, Pipe and Cuddy, are doing as well as can be expected so early in the season, and if Hanlon, at full-back, can keep on improving in his kicking, the team will be well taken care of back of the line.

From present appearances it looks as if English High would have fully as good a team as last year, and the eleven is certainly as strong as any other in the League to-day. Five of the old champions are back, and they form an excellent nucleus for an exceptionally good lot of new material. Kimball, who will probably hold centre, is pretty green, but will improve. He will doubtless be guarded by Walker, who is a new man, and by Carroll, who was last year's substitute centre. If these three men are finally selected, they will make as heavy a centre as there is on any team in the association. The position of quarter-back is still open, as it is not known yet definitely whether Sherlock will return to school. If he does not, however, Mansfield and Mann will make good substitutes, and can be trained into excellent players. Mann is a fast runner, and will make a good running quarter if he takes the place.

The Boston Latin School loses a good many of last year's team, but is fortunate in having an unusually large number of men anxious for positions on the eleven. The practice work so far has been of the first order, and the number of candidates has made it possible for the old men to get good practice. Those who are trying are not all by any means new to the game. Some were substitutes to the team which won the championship in 1895.

The men of last tear's team who are left to represent Boston Latin this year are Lowe, who played left guard; Teevens, who was substitute tackle in 1894, but who played back of the line last year; Daly, last year's right half-back, who, however, will doubtless make a try for full-back this fall; and Brayton, who is a candidate for guard. The new men, besides being a promising lot, are all pretty heavy, and so we may expect to see the Latin School represented by a heavy team in the coming championship.

The schedule for the championship series in the Senior League was made up at a recent meeting of the football committee as follows:

Boston Latin.--Oct. 30, Brookline High at South End; Nov. 6, Hopkinson at South End; Nov. 13, Cambridge High and Latin at South End; Nov. 26, English High at South End.

Cambridge Manual.--Oct. 30, Boston Latin or Cambridge High and Latin, Soldiers' Field; Nov. 6, Brookline High at Soldiers' Field; Nov. 13, Hopkinson at Soldiers' Field; Nov. 20, English High at Soldiers' Field.

English High.--Nov. 6, Cambridge High and Latin at South End; Nov. 12, Brookline High at South End; Nov. 17, Hopkinson at South End; Nov. 20, Cambridge Manual at Soldiers' Field; Nov. 26, Boston Latin at South End.

Cambridge High and Latin.--Oct. 31, Hopkinson (undecided); Nov. 6, English High at South End; Nov. 13, Boston Latin at South End; Nov. 18, Brookline (undecided).

Brookline High.--Oct. 30, Boston Latin at South End; Nov. 6, Cambridge Manual at Soldiers' Field; Nov. 12, English High at South End; Nov. 18, Cambridge High and Latin at Soldiers' Field or South End; Nov. 24, Hopkinson at Soldiers' Field.

Hopkinson.--Oct. 31, Cambridge High and Latin at South End (?); Nov. 6, Boston Latin at South End; Nov. 13, Cambridge Manual at Soldiers' Field; Nov. 17, English High at South End; Nov. 24, Brookline High at Soldiers' Field.

The schools of Maine are beginning to practise for their championship season, and several minor games have already been played. Portland High ought to have a fairly strong team, although it is perhaps too early yet to form any idea of what the new material will develop into. Bangor High is practising hard, and of last year's team there are again in school Connors, McCann, Snow, Hall, Hunt, Knaide, and Crowley. The Cony High-School, of Augusta, is looking forward confidently to winning the championship, and the eleven is practising hard every day. Several of last year's team are back, notably Savage and Sawyer, the guard and tackle. The regular League schedule, however, has not yet been arranged.

The Cook County High-School League, of Chicago, had a little trouble over its elections recently, but it is to be hoped that if any ill feeling resulted, it has all been smoothed over by this time. It seems to be a natural desire among a great many of us to go ahead regardless of rules sometimes, and this always results in trouble afterwards. When it comes to an election, nothing should ever be attempted that is not strictly in conformity with the regulations of the association. The desire for office or the enthusiasm of supporters should not be allowed to influence any candidate. A man elected under any circumstances except those of absolute regularity can never feel satisfied with his position, and will always suffer the loss of a certain amount of self-respect.

At the last meeting of the League's committee this trouble over the election was satisfactorily arranged, and a schedule for the championship series was laid out as follows:

Oct. 10.--West Division at North Division, Lake View at Oak Park, English High at Hyde Park, Northwest at Englewood, Chicago Manual at Evanston.

Oct. 17.--Hyde Park at West Division, Englewood at Lake View, North Division at English High, Evanston at Northwest, Oak Park at Chicago Manual.

Oct. 21.--West Division at Englewood, Chicago Manual at Hyde Park, Northwest at North Division, Lake View at Evanston, English High at Oak Park.

Oct. 24.--Evanston at West Division, Chicago Manual at Lake View, Oak Park at Englewood, Hyde Park at North Division, Northwest at English High.

Oct. 31.--Northwest at Oak Park, North Division at Chicago Manual, Englewood at Evanston, West Division at Oak Park, English High at Lake View.

Nov. 4.--North Division at Lake View, Evanston at English High, Hyde Park at Oak Park, West Division at Northwest, Englewood at Chicago Manual.

Nov. 7.--Lake View at Hyde Park, Oak Park at Evanston, Englewood at North Division, Northwest at Chicago Manual, English High at West Division.

Nov. 14.--Hyde Park at Evanston, English High at Englewood, Chicago Manual at West Division, North Division at Oak Park, Lake View at Northwest.

Nov. 21.--Hyde Park at Englewood, Northwest at Oak Park, Evanston at North Division, Chicago Manual at English High, West Division at Lake View.

The home grounds of the different teams are: Englewood, Hyde Park, and Chicago Manual, Washington Park; Lake View and North Division, Lincoln Park; English High and West Division, Douglas Park; Northwest Division, Humboldt Park; Evanston, Evanston; and Oak Park on the Oak Park Club baseball-grounds.

The New Jersey Interscholastic A.A. has arranged its football schedule, and the games will be played in the following order:

Oct. 10.--Newark Academy _vs._ Pingry, at Newark. Oct. 15.--Stevens Prep. _vs._ Montclair H.-S. at Montclair. Oct. 24.--Pingry _vs._ Stevens Prep. at Elizabeth. Oct. 24.--Newark _vs._ Montclair at Montclair. Oct. 31.--Stevens _vs._ Newark at Hoboken. Nov. 7.--Pingry _vs._ Montclair at Elizabeth.

It is probable that the Wisconsin Interscholastic League will soon fall to pieces, inasmuch as three of the strongest members have withdrawn from it. The reason given for this action on their part is that the high-schools in the State are so widely separated, that the time and expense incurred in travelling to and from games are so great, that these contests must be abandoned. The Milwaukee schools, however, have decided to keep up interscholastic sport so far as they are themselves concerned, and have adopted a constitution and drawn up a set of rules to govern their own games, which shall take the place of the old League regulations. These rules were made by delegates representing three schools. They debar all undesirable persons from taking part in any of the contests, and a committee has been appointed to see that athletics are kept pure not only in Milwaukee, but to enforce the Milwaukee standard against all out-of-town teams that desire to hold contests with members of this new association.

From all accounts it would seem that athletics in Wisconsin must have been about as impure and un-amateur and shamefacedly semi-professional as could possibly be. The trouble all came about, as it usually does, gradually. One school committed some small offence, and then another school committed a larger one, excusing itself on the ground that its neighbor was the first sinner. Madison High-School, so far as I am able to learn, seems to have been the worst transgressor. It is a great boaster of championships, and it is true that the Madison High-School football team has never been defeated. It has seemed to many, however, that the authorities of that school ought to take some steps to prevent men who are students at the University of Wisconsin from playing on the High-School team. Such men actually did play on the school teams while members of the university, by taking some single subject in the High-School. With university men on the school teams, victory naturally came to Madison very frequently when it met other schools, and this afforded a bad example.

The contagion reached Milwaukee, and the High-Schools there did a great many things which are doubtless now regretted by the better element. To such a point have they come in Wisconsin that the _Mercury_, which is the paper of the Milwaukee East-Side High-School, says, in a leading editorial: "There must be an entire revolution in the High-School athletics of this State. Otherwise Wisconsin will have a league professing purity in athletics, but really composed of professionals and 'ringers' and some unquestioned amateurs.... Numerous charges have been wafted to our ears, but we will deal only with those which we can substantiate." So long as the _Mercury_ can substantiate the charges, it may be interesting to the readers of this Department to hear what those charges are.

It would seem that the first case of irregularity occurred in last year's football season, when, according to the _Mercury_, the Madison eleven had two players who were regular members of the University of Wisconsin. The next case was in the Milwaukee East Side High-School itself. Members of that institution had the rules of the League suspended until after the date of the field meeting in order to allow one of their men, who had not been regularly enrolled since December, as the rules required, to enter and compete. "The next irregularity," says the _Mercury_, "was the entrance of a professional from the interior of the State, but that resulted satisfactorily. He was ruled out." The editorial then goes on to tell another story of professionalism in which two schools, holding a majority vote, refused to obey the rules of the Association, and legislated so as to allow certain individuals to represent their schools in a track-athletic meeting who had no more right to do so than any professional performers that they might have called on for similar work. It is to be hoped that the new spirit which seems to be awakening in Milwaukee will have sufficient influence and power to root out these evils in the future, or the sports of that State will get into a sad condition, where the young are so crafty and bold in their adoption of unfair methods.

With the awakening spirit of purity in athletics the prospects for football in Wisconsin seem to be brighter than ever before. The Madison High and the East Side and South Side high-schools at Milwaukee will undoubtedly be the strongest three high-school teams in the State. Madison has more old players back than the others, and thus has a slight advantage to start with; and it has the additional advantage of good coachers from the neighboring university. The Milwaukee schools, however, will put heavier men into the field.

The St. John's Military Academy will be stronger on the gridiron this year than it has been for some time, and ought to come out pretty well in interscholastic contests. The amateur spirit has had some pretty hard rubs at St. John's, as has been told of before in this Department, but I understand that this year no instructors will be permitted to play on the team, and none but students of the institution will be allowed to wear the school colors. It has not always been possible to say this of St. John's teams.

All the schools of the Long Island League are working hard at football this year, much harder than they have worked for the past few seasons, and we may therefore expect to see a better general average across the river. St. Paul's School always has had a strong team, and expects to have the best that ever represented the school this year. The Boys' High-School of Brooklyn has an energetic captain, Dickson, and promises to put a strong eleven into the field.

The trouble with last year's High-School team was that the men were too light, and became discouraged early in the season, and did not work with that determination which alone can insure success on the football field. A number of the old men are back, however, this fall, and the new material seems to be heavier than any which has before been available.

The unusually large number of students at the Buffalo High-School this year seems to have bred a lively interest in football. The first team the High-School ever put into the field was in 1892, but so little interest was taken in its work by the students at large and the players themselves, that they were able to accomplish but little. This year, however, a change seems to have come over the spirit of B.H.-S., and large crowds watch the practice every afternoon. The eleven is light when compared with some of the teams which it will meet during the season, but the men play well together, and the new rules are so arranged that a light eleven is not under such a disadvantage as it used to be in years past. Vayers, the captain, knows the game thoroughly, and has the ability of imparting knowledge to those under him.

The Andover football team this year seems to be rich in candidates for positions behind the line, whereas very few good men can be found for the rush-line itself. Nevertheless, Captain Barker is working hard with such material as he has, and no doubt by the close of the season he will have developed an eleven of the usual Andover calibre. It seems very improbable that a game with Exeter will be arranged this year, although there has been a renewal of interest in the subject lately, and considerable thought and some activity among the graduates of the two schools.

The papers on the "Science of Football" which have been appearing in this Department during the past few weeks, written by Mr. W. H. Lewis, of the Harvard football team of 1893, are published now in book form, with much additional material, and many more illustrations and diagrams than were given originally in the ROUND TABLE. The book will be found especially valuable to beginners, for whom it is intended rather than for the more experienced player, and the chapter on training will be found especially serviceable to the captains of school teams.

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This Department is conducted in the interest of Bicyclers, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the subject. Our maps and tours contain many 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.

There are several well-known rules in bicycling to-day which have established themselves by custom, and yet many of which, perhaps, will not be found in any book. They are, none the less, rules to be followed, because they are founded on experience. Riding in the city is very different from riding in the country, and there are certain differences in riding in small towns from either the country or the city. In the country there is no reason why one should not ride on side-paths or sidewalks if the road is better there. There is much less traffic, not so many pedestrians, and no one has any objection to this side-path riding there.

It is very different in towns, however. There, whether the law forbids sidewalk riding or not, no bicyclist should leave the street. In towns and in cities bicycles become in every way subject to the laws of carriages; a wheelman should keep always on the right-hand side of the road on principle. When a horse and carriage or another wheel is approaching, he should turn to the right, although both the driver of the horse and carriage and the rider of the wheel must give him room to pass on the right. In overtaking and passing either carriages or bicycles, you should pass to the left, turning, in other words, from the right-hand side of the road in towards the centre. In turning a corner, there are several rules to be observed, and in practice they ought all to be observed invariably. If you are turning into a street to the left a wide circle should be made, keeping well to the right, leaving room always at the corner for any vehicle, whether bicycle or carriage, to easily pass.

In fact, a good principle is to keep straight on until the cross-road is nearly passed, then turn to the left, and running into the cross-road close to the curb at the right. Where there is a road with a walk, or a car track, or anything of the sort in the centre that divides the avenue into two roadways, always keep on the right hand of the two, and when it is necessary to cross in order to get into a side road, do the crossing as quickly as possible. If this one rule alone were followed, many accidents would be avoided.

The use of bells and brakes constitutes an important part of city riding. Every man or woman who rides in a city should have a brake. There are times when nothing can save a fall except a very powerful brake. You may be riding close behind a horse-car, a cable-car, or carriage, when either the cars are obliged to stop suddenly, or perhaps a horse falls down. The sharp turn required to avoid running into the cars or carriage on a slippery pavement would throw the rider. Back-pedalling is of no use in the emergency, and a brake is the only thing that will save a collision. In like manner, in riding at night, and turning a corner, some one may come upon you suddenly when only a brake will save a collision. Bells are of just as much use. It is always safe, and therefore advisable, to ring your bell as you cross a cross-street. One should never overtake and pass another bicyclist, especially a woman, without giving a distinct notice by ringing a bell. The rider may be new to the wheel, or a hundred different things might happen to change the direction of the leading rider, and the notice given by ringing the bell will often save a catastrophe. No corner should be turned without notice being given by ringing the bell. No carriage should be overtaken and passed without the same notice.

Of course this looks as if one would be kept ringing the bicycle bell continually in the city, which is indeed the case; but after a moment's thought it will appear that any vehicle which moves without noise is obliged to give notice by ringing bells just as frequently. Cable-cars, trolley-cars, horse-cars, etc., are all ringing bells continually, and yet the newspapers each day contain notices of accidents from one or the other. Hence one should make up his mind that if he is to ride in the city he must be continually on the watch, and must continually be giving notice of his presence by the only noise-making method at his command--the bell.

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

A CAMERA CLUB PRINT EXCHANGE.

There is scarcely a State in the Union but what is represented in our Camera Club, and its membership extends to Canada, the maritime provinces, and Europe. Correspondence and local photographic chapters are formed among the members, who find that the exchange of ideas and experiences are of the greatest help to the amateur who wishes to improve.

A few weeks ago one of our members living in a Western State, wishing to have a picture of the Treasury Building in Washington, wrote to the editor, asking if some member of the Camera Club living in that city would not be willing to send him a print of it in exchange for one of some Western views, a list of which he enclosed in his letter. By a singular coincidence the same mail which brought this letter brought one from a member residing in Washington, who stated that she had made some fine negatives of the government buildings, and asking suggestions in regard to the printing and mounting. The address of the young lady was sent to our Western correspondent, and the exchange of prints made to their mutual satisfaction.

This incident has suggested to the editor the idea of forming a photographic-print exchange for the benefit of the members of the club who wish to form a collection of views from different localities. Suppose some member of the club wished photographs of the State Houses. He could state his wish, and say what pictures he had to offer in exchange. Members residing in the capitals of the different States, who cared to make the exchange, could correspond with the member wishing the pictures.

If the starting of a photographic-print exchange meets the favor of the club, a limited space could be given each week to the printing of the requests. The print exchange would enable one to make a fine collection of views, and the members would receive many helpful suggestions from seeing the work of other amateurs. The addresses and wants would be published in the Camera Club Department of the ROUND TABLE, but the correspondence would of course be carried on by mail, and not through the Camera Club.

Some of our amateurs have been abroad, and have made fine negatives of foreign scenes: the stay-at-home amateurs might, through the print exchange, be able to obtain some of these pictures. Amateurs who make a specialty of some particular subject or branch of photography might add to their collection, and in many ways the exchange would be a source of pleasure and profit.

The plan of exchanging prints is not a new one to our amateurs, for several of the prize-winners in our photographic contest exchanged prints of the prize pictures.

In making exchanges it is better to send unmounted prints, as the pictures can then be mounted on cards of uniform size, or placed in an album.

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.

It is now reported that instead of 200,000 sets (except the 5c.) Nova Scotia cents issue, there were 200,000 stamps only, divided as follows:

1c. 52,000 2c. 54,000 8-1/2c. 54,000 10c. 28,000 12-1/2c. 12,000

The price paid was about $10,000, and the entire quantity of stamps has been divided into 2000 lots, each containing the same number of stamps, and the price was fixed at $6 per lot. Stanley Gibbons, of London, the English agent, stated in a letter that 80 sets would cost $500, and that single sets would retail at $6. In Stanley Gibbons's paper announcing prices of the Nova Scotia sets, advertisements of other dealers appeared offering sets at $2.40 to $3.60. Harry Hilckes, of London, states that sets have been offered to him at 62c. per set. The difference between $6 and 62c. per set is simply ridiculous. Collectors should not pay fancy prices for stamps which are common.

The French government announces the early withdrawal of the 75-centime adhesive stamp, the 5c. and 60c. envelopes, and the 3c. newspaper wrapper.

The new Japanese stamps which were to be issued in Japan on September 12, 1896, were received on letters in London on September 5.

The S.S.S.S. adds the following to its list of speculative stamps the collection of which should be discouraged:

Uruguay (Suarez memorial), 1c. black and violet; 5c. black and blue; 10c. black and red. Venezuela (Miranda), 5c., 10c., 25c., and 50c., and 1c. Bolivar.

The desire to differentiate minute varieties on the part of advanced collectors gives point to a story which is going the rounds of the philatelic press. A certain dealer secured a lot of U.S. stamps with original gum, etc. Some were older than other copies of the same issue, others were a little "off," still others had had the gum soaked off, etc. He began marking them "uncancelled"; a better copy became "unused," a still better one "original gum"; then advancing, "old original gum," "older original gum," "very old original gum"; and still there were a few which seemed to him should be classed by themselves, so after much thought they were labelled "pre-historic gum."

MCHENRY COAL.--The 1827 dime can be bought for 20c.

W. G. CRAWFORD.--I do not understand your inquiry regarding postal-cards. There is a "Postal-Card Society" in existence which is quite active, but stamp-collectors, as a rule, confine themselves to adhesive stamps. In many instances, however, cut square envelopes are added. Entire envelopes of the U.S. are coming into favor gradually.

W. T. HOLDEN, 36 Marcy Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y., wishes to exchange stamps. I believe dealers are eligible to membership in the Dorchester Stamp Exchange. I do not know the New York Stamp Exchange. All the philatelic societies in New York have exchange circuits of their own, confined to their own membership. Dealers are not eligible to membership in "The Philatelic Society, New York"; but members who afterward become dealers can continue their membership if they wish.

H. O. KOERPER.--The 1839 dime is offered by dealers at 20c. each; the 3c. piece in fair condition from 10c. to 20c. each. Worn copies of either are worth face only. U.S. fractional currency which is not fresh and clean is worth face only.

L. V. GREEN.--Continental, Colonial, and Confederate paper money is extremely plentiful. With a few exceptions, dealers do not care to buy, except in large quantities. One house held Confederate money in _bales_, and sold it by the pound. The copies mentioned by you have no money value.

T. A. B. OSAGE.--No illustration of the St. Louis stamp appeared in No. 871 HARPER'S ROUND TABLE, page 875. It was illustrated in No. 826 (August 26, 1895). You say you have a copy of the 5c. St. Louis, and ask its value. It is impossible to express any opinion as to the value of a rare stamp until after examination. I am always glad to oblige a subscriber to the ROUND TABLE, but I cannot be responsible for the loss of stamps in transit. If you wish me to examine it I will do so, provided it be sent by express prepaid. When returned, it would be sent express at your expense. In the case of less valuable stamps, they can be sent by registered mail, and an addressed envelope stamped for return in the same way should be enclosed with the stamps. If stamps are sent in the regular mail, they will be returned the same way, provided an addressed and stamped envelope be enclosed.

MARY WILLIS.--French assignats are worthless. The French government made thousands of millions, which gradually sunk in value from par with gold to absolutely nothing within four years. The same was true of Colonial and Continental currency in this country, with the solitary exception of Vermont Colonials, which were redeemed at par.

G. T. T.--Your 1853 quarter is the common variety, worth face only.

PHILATUS.

* * * * *

YOUNG MOTHERS

should early learn the necessity of keeping on hand a supply of Gail Borden Eagle Brand Condensed Milk for nursing babies as well as for general cooking. It has stood the test for 30 years, and its value is recognized.--[_Adv._]

ADVERTISEMENTS.

W. G. BAKER

..Pays You..

Well to Introduce

Teas, Spices and Baking Powder.

JUST go among your friends and sell a mixed order amounting in total to 50 lbs. for a Waltham Gold Watch and Chain or a Decorated Dinner Set; 25 lbs. for a Solid Silver Watch and Chain; 10 lbs. for a Solid Gold Ring; 175 lbs. for a Lady's High-Grade Bicycle; or sell 75 lbs. for a Boy's Bicycle; 100 lbs. for a Girl's Bicycle; 200 lbs. for a Gentleman's High-Grade Bicycle; 30 lbs. for a Fairy Tricycle.

Express or freight paid if cash is sent with order. Send address on postal for Catalogue. Order-sheet and particulars.

W. G. BAKER (Dept. I), Springfield, Mass.

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.

Postage Stamps, &c.

100 all dif., & fine =STAMP ALBUM=, only 10c.; 200, all dif., Hayti, Hawaii, etc., only 50c. Agents wanted at 50 per cent. com. List FREE! =C. A. Stegmann=, 5941 Cote Brilliant Ave., St. Louis, Mo.

STAMPS

=10= stamps and large list =FREE!=

L. DOVER & CO., 1469 Hodiamont, St. Louis. Mo.

STAMPS on Approval! 50% disct. _List free._

W. C. Shields, 30 Sorauren Ave., Toronto, Canada.

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.

The Importance of Care.

Not infrequently has the Table urged upon its readers the desirability of good penmanship and careful selection of words in letter-writing. Here are three stories, all vouched for as true, which emphasize the points anew:

A Cincinnati grocer's house found that cranberries had risen to $6 per bushel. The purchasing clerk immediately sent this note by the firm's teamster, "One hundred bushels per Simmons." (Simmons was the driver's name.) The well-meaning correspondent thought the scrawl read, "One hundred bushels persimmons," and boys were straightway set to work, for persimmons were plentiful. The wagon made its appearance next day loaded down with eighty bushels. The remaining twenty bushels were to follow next day, and when the correspondent found out his mistake he angrily demanded why the order did not read _by_ Simmons?

A New England clergyman wrote a letter to the General Court. The clerk came to a sentence which he read, "I address you not as magistrates, but as Indian devils." The Court was wroth until the "Indian devils" were found to be "individuals."

An English gentleman, in writing to a Lincolnshire friend, mentioned the latter's kindness to him, and said he should soon send him a suitable "equivalent." The friend read the word "elephant," and immediately built a handsome barn for the reception of his elephantine majesty. But much to his surprise a barrel of oysters was the "equivalent."

* * * * *

Minimized Writing.

Mention was made in the Table, not long since, of the microscopic ring presented to Queen Elizabeth, consisting of a silver penny on which Bales "put more things than would fill several duodecimo pages." For a long time, Pliny's remark that Cicero had once seen Homer's Iliad in a nutshell was considered an exaggeration, at least. But an old French writer named Huet proves the statement to be true. A sheet of sheep-skin 10x8 can be neatly folded up so as to fit the shell of a large walnut. In its breadth the strip will contain one line of thirty verses, and in its length, 250 lines. Each side of the page would, then, contain 7500 verses, or the whole of the Iliad! Huet proved this fact in the presence of the Dauphin, using a sheet of paper and a crow-quill pen.

In the library of St. John's College, Oxford, is a head of Charles I. made up of minute lines of script which at a little distance resemble common engraving lines. The lines of the head and ruff form the Psalms, the Creed, and the Lord's Prayer. There is a portrait of Queen Anne in the British Museum "not much above the size of the hand." This drawing, too, is made up of microscopic lines and scratches which form the contents of an entire folio!

Elizabeth's silver penny ring was surpassed by the farthing of Peter Almunus, an Italian monk. On the coin were engrossed the Acts of the Apostles and the Gospel according to St. John. Another example of microscopic writing was presented to Elizabeth in the shape of a piece of parchment the size of a finger, containing the Decalogue, the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, the name of the giver, and the date. A pair of spectacles accompanied this Lilliputian manuscript.

Ælian tells us of an artist who wrote a "distich in letters of gold, which he enclosed in the rind of a grain of corn," while Menage writes of microscopic sentences, pictures, and portraits. He mentions reading an Italian poem in praise of the Princess, "written by an officer in the space of a foot and a half."

With Pope we would say:

"Why has not man a microscopic eye? For this plain reason--man is not a fly."

MAURICE MAXWELL.

* * * * *

A Story about Holland's Young Queen.

Queen Wilhelmina, of Holland, who once applied for membership in the Order of the Round Table, and purchased a set of Columbian stamps through the Editor of the Round Table Stamp Department, has become betrothed to her second cousin, although yet in her early teens. When the German Emperor paid a visit to The Hague, in 1893, the Queen desired to be present at the banquet given in his honor. This, of course, was out of the question. To all the pleadings of her daughter the Queen Regent turned a deaf ear. "You are too young and must go to bed." As, however, the child Queen persisted in her demands, there remained for the Regent but one alternative--to herself conduct the young lady to her bedroom. This she did, but not without one final energetic protest from the disappointed Queen. "I will go to the balcony and tell the Dutch people how you abuse their Queen."

Of course the young lady did nothing of the kind, but sobbed herself to sleep instead, and next day dutifully begged her mother's pardon.

* * * * *

Kinks.

No. 41.--A PROSE CHARADE.

I am a combination of the animal and vegetable kingdom, generally made by boys, and carried in their pockets. Part of me once belonged to a two-legged farm animal, and helped to do what Maxim, Langley, and Lielenthal have as yet failed in. The next important part grew in the forest and was shaped by a jack-knife. The third and last part grew in the ground. Many a fly has met death at my hands, but my chief merit is noise. What am I?

* * * * *

No. 42.--POLITICAL QUESTIONS.

1. What legislature is known as the "House of Keys"?

2. What early American hero boasted of having killed, while in Austria, thirty men merely to prove to a party of ladies that he was brave?

3. Who burned up the "copy" of the first _Congressional Record_?

4. Who made the principal address at Gettysburg, now forgotten, on the day that Lincoln made his famous impromptu one?

* * * * *

No. 43.--A STAR.

1 to 2, part of a woman's cap; 1 to 3, an explosion of thunder; 4 to 5, a soothing ointment; 4 to 3, a soft mass; 5 to 2, a wooden mallet.

B.

* * * * *

NO. 44.--SINGLE ACROSTIC.

The following words, all the same length, give for their initials, when, read downward, the full name of a President of the United States: To attempt; firmness; something that comes to us all; to answer; to succeed; value; to varnish; keen; to dance; dexterity; to toil; to command; a recess in a wall.

F. X. M.

* * * * *

No. 45.--NUMERICAL ENIGMA.

I am composed of three words and nineteen letters. 1. My 11, 6, 3, 19, 5, is to mount. 2. My 10, 11, 12, 18, is a low place between hills. 3. My 13, 11, 10, 12, 5, is a dipper with a handle. 4. My 19, 1, 2, 4, 18, is to clear up. 5. My 14, 15, 17, 8, is the dearest place on earth. 6. My 7, 3, 18, 13, 10, to sway.

* * * * *

Answers to Kinks.

No 37.

2803 miles--found by taking all the letters in the lines that are employed in the Roman notation, setting down their common value in figures, and adding all together. Count i as figure 1.

* * * * *

No. 38.

R W A R W A V E S R A V A G E S R E G E T S E T S

* * * * *

No. 39.--Niagara.

* * * * *

No. 40.

1.--1. Baret. 2. Abode. 3. Rosin. 4. Edict. 5. Tents.

2.--1. Prong. 2. Racer. 3. Ochre. 4. Nerve. 5. Green.

3.--1. Sharp. 2. Honor. 3. Angle. 4. Rolls. 5. Press.

* * * * *

A Clever Chapter Memorial.

The prettiest memorial that we have ever seen of any Round Table Chapter comes to us from the Kearsarge Chapter, of Hudson, N. Y. It is a small volume, bound in white cloth, neatly printed, and containing about half a hundred pages. This Chapter has fourteen members and has had two jolly and profitable years. Its clever editors, Messrs. L. G. Price, M. A. Jones, Paul Rowley, C. S. Keating, and S. J. Salls, dedicate their neat book to the Chapter--and its friends. They explain the objects of the Order, and define a Knight: "A nineteenth century relic of the past, distinguished for his chivalry, honor, and appetite"--the Kearsarge variety, we presume. In some cyclopædic information it defines _gavel_:

"Something the Chapter needs, but hasn't got; Different from gabble, which it has, but needeth not."

There is a witty salutatory, a list of the officers and members, minutes of the year, done in college class-day oratory style, football, skating, bicycling, tennis, and debating records, and a skit in one act, "Tales of a Soda-Water Fountain," which is clever in composition and exceedingly droll. Here is the Chapter yell:

Hobble, gobble! Razzle, dazzle! Sis! Boom! Ah! Kearsarge Chapter, Rah! Rah! Rah!

Ten pages of advertising help out the "Business Manager's Cinch." The editors hope it will be "a credit to the Chapter." It is indeed. No mention is made of price, but we presume other Chapters can buy copies. The treasurer is Allen Rossman, Hudson.

* * * * *

Proposed International Club.

Efforts are being made to form a Correspondence Chapter, its members to be Ladies, and those whose homes are widely scattered, in order that they may describe each other's homes, and have those descriptions of interest. Three members interested in it are: Donna Vittoria Colonna, Colonna Palace, Rome, Italy; Miss Isma Fincham, Roydon, Queenstown, South Africa; and Miss Florence E. Cowan, Kingman, Arizona. The last-named desires to hear from Miss Marie Ojetti, Rome, Italy, from the members in Australia and New Zealand, and all others, fourteen to eighteen years of age, who may wish to join.

* * * * *

Questions and Answers.

Robert Burdette Dale asks about the Panama Canal. The projector of it was M. Ferdinand de Lesseps, the man who success fully financed and constructed the Suez Canal. For his Panama venture he obtained vast sums from the French middle classes. The United States consul at Colon reported, about one year ago, that $400,000,000 had been spent upon the canal, but that comparatively little progress had been made toward completion. Yet he said in the same report that $100,000,000 would complete it. The discrepancy is due to the cause you mention--profligacy in the management thus far.

Charges of fraud were made in France, and the last days of the great engineer were embittered by the wreck of his hopes and of many poor French families. Direct fraud was not, we believe, traced to M. Ferdinand, but rather he was the victim of over-confidence and of unscrupulous men. At present about 1000 men are employed on the canal, chiefly to protect machinery and work already done. The Nicaragua Canal is to be 170 miles long, and its estimated cost $100,000,000. Its survey crosses no rivers; but were a canal to do so, it would, if on the same level, let the river run into the canal and act as a water-feeder. If not on a level, either the river or the canal would be crossed by an aqueduct. Mountains are tunnelled, or the route laid out around them.

Don Rathburn, write to Hon. George D. Perkins, Sioux City, your member of Congress, who will give you full particulars about entering Annapolis. At least he can tell you if there be a vacancy from your district. Only one person at a time may be at Annapolis from one district. Hence, ordinarily, one is appointed every four years. If, in this busy political season, Mr. Perkins does not reply promptly, write to Hon. Hilary A. Herbert, Secretary of the Navy, Washington, D. C. Elizabeth Barber, 126 Court Street, Oshkosh, Wis., wants numbers 783 and 787 HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. These issues are out of the publisher's stock. If any reader has them and is willing to sell them, Miss Barber will pay both price and postage. Thomas Skelley will do the same to get numbers 787, 792, and 796, and Nicholas J. Healy, 203 West Street, New York city, to get number 821. The last named is informed that he can get number 833 by applying to the publishers. These numbers are wanted to complete volumes for binding. Ralph B. Hughes, Richmond, Mo., a member of our Order, says: "I am much interested in the collection of the colloquial songs of this country, and would be very glad to receive a copy of the words of any of these songs from any of the readers of the ROUND TABLE. I want plantation songs, negro and steamboat deck hands' songs, sailors' and soldiers' songs. Any one who will send me these songs will confer a favor, which I would be glad to repay in any way that I can. I have a small collection of these songs, many of which are very interesting, and I would like to enlarge it."

"Fortunatus" can find, probably, no place where "fine needle-work may be readily sold at a good price." The reason is an over-supply. She can try two ways to earn money with her needle. One is to secure the names of well-to-do women and write them personal letters, mentioning the wares for sale, and asking if they may be sent for inspection. A few replies--perhaps ten out of fifty letters--will be received, and it is safe, as a rule, to send the article on approval, with stamp for its return. If any be lost, charge it to profit and loss, which is in every business. The other is to place the work on sale at exchanges, which are found in all cities. To reach them, address "Woman's Exchange." A small commission is charged, and generally hints are given you about what class of articles sell best.

* * * * *

Can You give these Directions?

Malcolm I. Davis asks how to make an Æolian-harp for his library window. Some time ago we gave directions for such harp, but several who followed them said their harps were capable of being improved--"might be better," one Connecticut member wrote. Will some one give us directions for making a harp warranted to be the best.

'Tis wisest to economize By blending, in the home supplies, The highest worth and widest scope. Now Ivory, being pure and good For laundry, bath and toilet, would Save fully half the bills for soap.

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

HARPER'S NEW CATALOGUE,

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

_Just Published_

A PRIMER OF COLLEGE FOOTBALL

By W. H. LEWIS. Illustrated from Instantaneous Photographs and with Diagrams. 16mo, Paper, 75 cents.

Mr. Lewis, an old Harvard football centre-rush, has put together in this book the result of his experiences in practical football. The work, therefore, is not so much a treatise on the game as a series of practical suggestions, to be used by captains in teaching their men and coaching their teams. The book is divided respectively into the "individual" and "team" play. The part on the "individual" discusses, first, the individual plays, such as passing, kicking, running, falling on the ball, and so on, and then the work of the individual players themselves. The second part discusses, first, offensive and then defensive team play. It will be seen, therefore, that the book is unique of its kind, and in its small compass will be eminently suited for use from day to day in the field or during the discussion after practice.

* * * * *

RECENT POPULAR BOOKS

* * * * *

WITH MY NEIGHBORS

By MARGARET E. SANGSTER. 16mo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

Mrs. Sangster is a gentle mentor, and while she preaches with great earnestness, it is the sweet womanliness that shines through all she says that attracts and holds the reader.... "With My Neighbors" is wholesome and sweet.... A little book that fulfils an admirable mission.--_Chicago Evening Post._

THE OLD INFANT, AND SIMILAR STORIES

By WILL CARLETON. Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1.25.

Every one breathes the sympathy of a whole-souled man, whose humor, while pungent, is always kindly.... There is always that trembling in the laugh that betokens the presence of a tear ready to fall. Will Carleton is always a poet, whether he writes in verse or not.--_N. Y. Commercial Advertiser._

SHAKESPEARE THE BOY

With Sketches of the Home and School Life, the Games and Sports, the Manners, Customs, and Folk-Lore of the Time. By WILLIAM J. ROLFE, Litt.D., Editor of "Rolfe's English Classics," etc. Illustrated. Post 8vo, Cloth, $1.25.

Clearly, forcibly, yet simply, has Prof. Rolfe presented the story of a boy's life, a great boy, a boy of high aspirations, for the literary pleasure of the student and the scholar, as well as for the captivation and delight of the undergraduate and the children, with whom in all ages is Shakespeare a favorite.--_Boston Courier._

* * * * *

HARPER & BROTHERS, Publishers, New York

"HELLO, SOME RABBIT'S LOST ITS TAIL! TOO BAD, I DO DECLARE!" (HE SAW A FLUFFY THISTLE-DOWN AFLOAT UP IN THE AIR.)

* * * * *

THAT SETTLES IT.

TEDDY. "I tell you it's so."

NELLIE. "I say it is not."

TEDDY. "Well, mamma says it's so; and if mamma says it's so, it's so even if it isn't so!"

* * * * *

PRIDE GOETH BEFORE A FALL.

The following anecdote was new many years ago, but will bear repeating. A certain Spanish knight, very poor but proud, and rightly so, as his birth was as high as a King's, arrived late one very dark night at an inn in France. Riding up to the entrance on his forlorn nag, he fell to battering the gate. He finally awakened the landlord, who, peering out into the night, called,

"Who is there?"

"Don Juan Pedro Hernandez Rodriguez de Vellanova, Count of Malofra, Knight Santiago and Alcantara," replied the Spaniard.

"I am very sorry," shouted the landlord, "but I haven't room enough for all those gentlemen you mention." And he slammed the window and retired.

* * * * *

WELL TO REMEMBER.

What is good for one is not always good for another. This is illustrated in a short tale told some time ago about a French medical student. While in London on a visit the student lodged in the house with a man very sick with a fever, who was continually besieged by his nurse to drink very nauseating liquids which were lukewarm. The sick man found this almost impossible to do, until one day he whispered to his nurse,

"Bring me a salt herring and I will drink as much as you please."

The woman indulged him in his request; he ate the herring, drank the liquids, underwent the required perspiration, and recovered.

The French student, thinking this very clever, inserted in his journal, "Salt herring cures an Englishman of fever."

On his return to France he prescribed the same remedy to his first patient with a fever. The patient died. On which he inserted in his journal: "N.B.--A salt herring cures an Englishman, but kills a Frenchman."

* * * * *

A LONG CHASE.

It was noticed, at one of the boys' clubs over on the East Side, that a little negro who attended regularly always sought a certain book each evening, and laughed uproariously apparently at the same picture. One of the supervisors approached and saw that the picture represented a bull chasing a small colored boy across a field. He asked the little fellow what amused him so.

"Gosh!" answered the boy, "he 'ain't kotched him yet!"

* * * * *

A new pair of shoes came home for Davy, aged five. He was delighted with them until they had been put on his feet. Then he exclaimed, with a pout, "Oh, my! they're so tight I can't wink my toes!"

* * * * *

One of King George's ministers was once asked why he did not promote merit. "Because," replied the minister, "merit did not promote me!"

* * * * *

David Garrick, the celebrated actor, was once urged to become a candidate for Parliament. "No, I thank you," replied Garrick. "I would rather play the part of a great man on the stage than the part of a fool in Parliament."

* * * * *

Just before the sea fight between the fleets of Admiral Duncan and Admiral de Winter, the former called his men together, and said,

"Lads, there is a hard winter coming on; see that you keep up a good fire!"

* * * * *

"Now, boys," said the new school-teacher, "I want you to be so quiet that we can hear a pin drop."

There was a cavernous silence for a second, then a voice in the rear muttered, "Now, then, let her drop!"

* * * * *

MRS. DACHSHUND. "MY SON, HOW OFTEN MUST I TELL YOU NOT TO GET INTO AN ARGUMENT WITH THAT GOAT?"

SON. "WHY?"

MRS. DACHSHUND. "BECAUSE HE'S ENTIRELY TOO HEADSTRONG."

End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Round Table, October 13, 1896, by Various