CHAPTER I.

"Well, miss, how can I serve you?"

Mr. Searle, the grocer of Nunsford, spoke rather sharply, bending over his counter in the twilight, and looking half contemptuously upon his customer.

She was a tall girl of fifteen, rather old-looking for her years, but with a face so evidently designed by Nature for blooming color, dimples, and good-humor, that its lines of care and want were peculiarly painful.

"Well, miss," repeated the grocer, as his customer hesitated.

"I should like a few things, Mr. Searle," said the young girl, speaking in a decidedly un-English although sweet, clear voice, "but I must tell you first it will have to be on credit--for just a little longer. I am sure we shall soon be able to pay you."

Mr. Searle's face was puckered into doubtful lines by this request. "Well, it's three weeks now," he said, slowly. "It's not usual, miss--"

"I know--I know," said the girl, eagerly, and looking at him with such a strained, wistful expression that Searle's heart melted. "I know, and I shall _very_ soon have something--"

"Well, then, we'll let it go," said Searle, with real good-humor; and he busied himself supplying his customer's modest wants--half a pound of tea, a pound of sugar, some dried herrings, and a few candles.

"There," he said, placing the parcels in her hands. "I hope your mother is better, miss," he added, kindly.

The girl's eyes were full of sudden tears. "A little, thank you, Mr. Searle," she said; and then, holding her small parcels carefully, she hurried away, disappearing in the wintry dusk, while Mr. Searle called out to his wife:

"That's the American young lady again. Hanged if I can understand it. They're high-born, I'm sure; but wot's keeping them starving here in Nunsford is wot _I_ can't tell."

"And you've give more credit?" said the sharp voice of his wife, as that lady's thin figure appeared in the doorway of the shop parlor. "Well, Searle, you _are_ easy took in."

"Never mind, Sairey," answered Searle. "I couldn't look at that child's white face, and let her go 'ungry."

Mrs. Searle slammed the parlor door expressively, while her husband turned to watch the arrival of some more distinguished customers.

Meanwhile the American girl was hurrying on in the wintry twilight down the High Street of the quaint old town, where the lamps were just beginning to be lighted, and where many people, hastening homeward with that expectant look that seems to mean a cheerful fireside and cozy supper, made the young girl think sadly of her own desolation. Nora Mayne had a stout little heart: she was accustomed to trying to feel brave, to forcing herself to think cheerfully both of the present and the future, but I am afraid that just then it seemed rather hard work. She and her mother were almost at the end of their resources, friendless and alone in a strange English town.

As she went along, slackening her pace a little as she passed the dear old Abbey Church, Nora thought over the last year, deciding in her own mind that it had been a great mistake to try their fortunes in England. Just a year before, Mr. Mayne's death left his widow and child with a few hundred dollars, and almost no friends, in a Connecticut village. Mr. Mayne had been a visionary man. Nora remembered brief periods of luxury, followed by want and loneliness. Her life had been a wandering one, for Mr. Mayne rarely staid long in any one place; and the girl was early accustomed to leading a lonely life among her books, not caring to make friends she might leave on the morrow. At her father's death Nora and her mother had come to England, hoping to find employment among some of the widow's early friends. Mrs. Mayne's girlhood had been spent in England--a bright, luxurious period, of which Nora never tired of hearing; but death, and the long silence of years, had scattered all traces of that happy past. The associations of twenty years before seemed to have vanished as though the whole story had been a dream. Months passed in London and in the little town of Nunsford, which Mrs. Mayne remembered in that happy "long ago," and now mother and daughter were living from week to week, no longer hopeful, only waiting for some chance to take them home again. Meanwhile illness had been added to their trials; Nora had the new misery of seeing her mother suffer while she vainly searched for some employment. Day after day she returned to their humble lodging tired and disappointed; yet even on this evening, feeling it so difficult to face the future with any hope, there lurked somewhere in the dim corner of her heart a confidence in "to-morrow."

Nora only allowed herself to linger a moment by the old church. It was her favorite haunt; the gray walls, the bit of cloister, the solemn pathway with its tombs and archway of leafless trees--how she loved it all! It was so like the pictures she had seen of England--so peaceful, when her heart was full of anxieties, so bright on the winter mornings, with sunshine among the fir-trees and the ivied door outside, and a flood of light from the old stained-glass windows within! Nora had learned to know every nook and corner near the old abbey; and how great was her delight the day she found a short-cut from the High Street, past the grayest wall, the end of the grammar school with its quaint bit of thatched roof, and around by the beautiful brick-walled Deanery garden.

That Deanery garden was another source of comfort to little Nora. She fancied all manner of stories connected with it. She knew that once the house had been a monastery, and, later, a famous manor, and now it looked as if it might contain any romance, however picturesque or poetic.

It was a beautiful old house, with many turrets and gabled ends. It stood in the midst of a garden that even in winter-time seemed to have a bloom of its own. There are many winter flowers in Devonshire. These colored the Deanery garden faintly, and filled the girl's heart with pleasure as she caught glimpses of them on her lonely walks. Sometimes the garden gate stood open; often in passing, Nora saw the Dean's daughters with their governess going in or out. Once as she stood in the morning sunshine that fell warmly on the brick wall, Nora had seen an invalid lady carried out to a Bath-chair, followed by a tall servant in livery and a pretty, slim young girl. The lady had a beautiful face framed in white hair; she flashed a look on Nora in her shabby gown standing in the cruel sunlight--a wistful, pathetic little figure, with something worth remembering in her eager eyes. The young lady at her side was drawing on a long glove, and Nora saw the sparkle of her pretty rings. In spite of the lady's wan face, it all suggested comfort, and prosperity,' sunshine, warmth; the _green_ things of life seemed to little Nora to be shut in, and to come out of that quaint old garden. She stood still, fancying herself unseen, as the lady was placed in the Bath-chair, her young companion arranging her fur wraps comfortably.

"Thanks, dear," the lady said, in a sweet low voice. Then she glanced back at some one within the Deanery garden. "Penelope is with me," she said, smiling.

"That is her name, then," thought the little watcher, sighing, as the Bath-chair was wheeled away. "And what a lovely face! what a sweet way she had with the poor lady! Oh, but it is easy to take care of sick people who have plenty of money!" cried the poor child to herself, thinking of her mother in need at home.

But Nora never saw "Penelope" again. She watched often, wondering if the pretty young figure would not appear in the garden or out of the old wall door. Gradually she began to think of her as a "story-book" girl--some one to build up a romance about, while her own life was dragging on with such bitter anxieties.

Nora's destination was not very far from the Deanery. It was an old-fashioned Berlin wool shop, the upper floors of which were let in lodgings. She passed the shop window quickly, and entering by a side door, hurried up the old oak staircases to a room on the top floor. A fire was burning low, faintly illuminating the dreary room, with its stiff furniture and inartistic decoration. Mrs. Mayne was pillowed in an easy-chair before the fire.

"Here I am, mamma," said Nora, cheerfully; "and now you shall have a good cup of tea."

Mrs. Mayne answered with a faint smile; but it pleased her to watch her daughter's lithe figure moving quickly about, as she stirred the fire into a brighter blaze, made the tea, and wheeled a little table into the glow. Nora's languid looks were always reserved for the moments she was by herself. She kept up a cheerful flow of conversation while the kettle boiled, and she prepared a second cup of tea, and toasted a fresh round of bread to tempt her mother's appetite.

A sharp little knock sounded on the door.

"That is Mrs. Bruce," exclaimed Nora, bending over her mother's chair, as the door opened on the fat, good-humored-looking figure of their landlady.

"I beg your pardon, 'm," said Mrs. Bruce, standing still, with folded arms, "but _could_ miss do me a favor?"

"Certainly," exclaimed Nora.

"Then _would_ you mind stopping harf an hour in the shop for me? I must go hout, and there ain't a soul to leave in it. There won't be a many coming in at this hour. If you'll come down with me, I'll give you a hidea of some of the prices, though most of the things is marked."

Nora eagerly assented, and leaving the candle and a book near her mother, she followed Mrs. Bruce down the staircases to the Berlin wool shop, which was comfortably warmed and lighted. A broad window full of gay wares fronted the street. Within were the usual contents of such a shop--Berlin wools, fancy-work, patterns, and the like. Nothing out of the common, but for Nora Mayne the shop always possessed a curious fascination.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

UNION GROVE, WISCONSIN.

In one of the April numbers of YOUNG PEOPLE I noticed an article entitled, "How to Build a Catamaran." It reminded me of the catamarans I used to see on the surf at Madras, and I thought the boys would like to hear something about them. The name catamaran is taken from two Tamil words, meaning literally "tied trees." Along the coast of South India and Ceylon hundreds of catamarans may be seen dancing up and down the sparkling surf. They are made of three or four mango logs fastened together securely with ropes made from the palmyra-tree. Sitting on deck as our ice-ship, the _Robert_, approached Madras, it looked as if there were a great many dark figures standing on the water. The boats were invisible, and only the figures seemed coming closer, until they drew so near that we could see under the water the logs on which the fishermen were standing. Every man had a long pole in his hand, with which he guided his curious craft. The fishermen were nearly naked, so that getting wet did not trouble them very much. The hot Indian sun poured down on their heads, but they did not seem to mind it.

Often when sitting on the veranda of our sea bungalow in Ceylon, looking over the blue waves of the Bay of Bengal, we would see the fishermen wade out from the shore, dragging their catamarans until they reached deep water, when, gracefully skipping on, off they would go, paddling skillfully over the white caps of the surf, till they almost disappeared in the blue distance. After a while they would come safely back, balancing their rudderless barks carefully till they were beached on the sand. Then they would go to the bazar or market with the fish they had caught, the long pole resting on their black shoulders. Probably the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE would not enjoy a sail on a catamaran in India, but the little Hindoo boys enjoy it very much, and are expert and daring in the management of their boats.

There is another queer craft, called a "dhomy," of which you may hear at another time.

ÉMILE DE R.

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OTTAWA, KANSAS.

We have a very kind cousin who sends YOUNG PEOPLE to my little sister. During the days of "Toby Tyler" one of our intimate friends came up every Thursday to read the story with us. One of us would read aloud, pausing now and then to wipe away the tears which _would_ come. Every morning when papa went down town my little three-year-old sister would say, "Don't forget to bring 'Toby' to-night." I am very glad Mr. Otis is writing another story.

We used to have a hen which we called Speck. In one of her broods was a white chick, whose name was Minnie. When Minnie was half grown, Speck had some more little ones, which Minnie seemed to think were as much hers as they were Speck's. Whenever she had anything to eat she called them to share it, and really took as good care of them as Speck did. While Speck was sitting on the eggs, Minnie would get on the nest behind her. One day papa went out to the chicken-coop, and Speck with her brood was on one of the nests, covering as many chicks as she could with one wing, while little Miss Minnie on the other side was covering as many as she could with _her_ wing.

The other day some little swallows fell down through the chimney into the fire-place in mamma's room. They were too young to fly, so we put them in a basket, and hung it on a tree. The mother bird heard their cries, and came and fed them, but in two days the poor things died.

It has been warmer here lately than ever before in Kansas.

EVELYN.

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LUZERNE, WARREN COUNTY, NEW YORK.

Although I wrote once before, and my letter was not published, I will try again; for I know the Editor must be very busy if he reads all the letters the young people send to Our Post-office Box. I enjoy all the stories very much. "Mildred's Bargain" was excellent.

An Indian was here lately who had three rattle-snakes. He got them from Lake George, and was trying to tame them, but one of them bit him. To cure him they had to give the poor man liquor to drink till he was intoxicated.

BELLE N.

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WILLIMANTIC, CONNECTICUT.

I must tell you about my poor pet kitty. She was black and white, and I thought her splendid, but she was run over by a train, and there were some very sober faces here that day, you may be sure. I have a dog now. His name is Prince, and as he does not like kittens, we have to get along without any. He is eight years old. We have had him about a year.

My brother George is six years old, and I am nine, and we both take great comfort in reading YOUNG PEOPLE.

MARY W. H.

We are very sorry so dreadful a fate befell your little kitty. If Prince were younger, you might teach him to be friendly with Madam Puss and her kits; but as he is eight years old, which is a quite dignified and "settled" age for a dog, you will have to let him keep his opinions. A kind, intelligent dog is, we think, as satisfactory a pet as a cat.

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EDNA, MINNESOTA.

I have been meaning for a long time to write to YOUNG PEOPLE, and thank the young friend who sends me the paper. I enjoy reading it very much, as I do all other good reading matter. I am driving three horses on a sulky plough. I have broken thirty acres of prairie this summer. I have to strap myself to the seat, as I have no legs to steady me. I like this work, and am very sorry the season is so nearly over.

ELMER P. BLANCHERD.

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The tragic fate of a family of bantams is touchingly told in these rhymes by a little correspondent:

THE LITTLE PRIZE BANTAM.

Nine little bantams were pecking at the shell; One got free too soon, and fell down the well.

Eight little bantams nestled close at night; A weasel snatched one, and fled out of sight.

Seven little bantams wandered in the lane; A hawk pounced on one; it ne'er was seen again.

Six little bantams were eating crumbs of bread; A greedy bantam took too much, and fell down dead.

Five little bantams were playing in the barn; The horse stepped on one of them, but did the rest no harm.

Four little bantams watched the ducks swim; One tumbled over the pond's grassy rim.

Three little bantams were in their mother's care; A rooster pecked one, and then were left a pair.

Two little bantams trod the world together; Cook killed one of them, and pulled out every feather.

One little bantam, brave in colors rare, Won the very highest prize at the county fair.

L. G. R., Louisville, Ky.

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CHELSEA, MASSACHUSETTS.

I would like to tell the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE about a pretty pair of white mice which my father gave me. About a month ago, when I went to feed them, I found a very cunning little one in the nest. He has grown to be almost as large as the big ones. Last Friday I was away all day, and when I came home I went to play with my pets, when I found five more little ones.

The next evening I heard a noise in the kitchen, and when I went to see what it was, I saw my cat with the poor little mother mouse in her mouth. When she saw me coming she started to run, but I caught her by the tail, and got it away from her. Alas! it only lived a few seconds. Oh! I felt dreadfully.

I tried to feed the little ones, but they were so young they could not eat, and they grew so weak that my mother said it would be a mercy to drown them. I felt very sad about this, but I put them in a box, and that in a pail of water, and they were soon out of their misery. I buried them in my garden, under my plum-tree. I have only two left.

My father would not allow me to punish the cat, because he said it was her nature. I have, besides my mice, two cats and a canary. My brother has three rabbits. He has gone this afternoon to get me a turtle.

L. B. G.

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BAY RIDGE, LONG ISLAND.

We have two dogs, and we call them Tip and Becky. We have a Polly, and she is sick. I had a paroquet, but a cruel dog killed it. This is my first letter to any paper, although I am twelve years old.

JENNIE B. F.

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NEWARK, NEW JERSEY.

I am a little boy ten years old. I have taken the YOUNG PEOPLE only three weeks, and I like it very much. "The Cruise of the 'Ghost'" is splendid. I liked it so well that I borrowed the back numbers, and read it all through. I am very sorry that the President was shot, and I want to tell you that he does not forget the boys and girls. I wrote him a letter telling him I was very glad that he was elected, and he in return sent me a handsome photograph of himself. I think all the more of it now, and if he should die, money could not buy it.

MILTON W. D.

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VERONA, ITALY.

When I was in Milan I went to the National Exposition, and there I saw how silk was made from the very beginning--a thing which interested me very much. The silk-worm was feeding upon the leaves of the mulberry-tree. Afterward it wound about itself an oval ball of silk, which is called a cocoon. The cocoon was then put into boiling water to kill the worm and find the end of the silk, which was wound off by machinery in large skeins. The natural colors of the cocoons are white, buff, and yellowish-green. The skeins are dyed to make the other colors of silk used. Some of the cocoons were saved until the worm changed into the butterfly, and then the butterfly was put into a lace bag to lay its eggs, which next spring will produce more silk-worms.

I saw ribbons of different colors of silk being made; also saw the manufacture of satins and velvets. All the women and girls who were working at the machines wore the same kind of head-dress; it was composed of silver pins, fastened at the back of the head, and standing out like a fan.

In the evening I went to the Gallery of Victor Emanuel, which is a favorite place for those who wish to promenade. It is several blocks long, and in the shape of a cross, with stores on all sides, and the buildings quite high. Over all is an arched roof of glass, which at night is brilliantly lighted by gas, making it look very pretty. I watched the way they lighted up the dome: a man wound up a little locomotive, which went round on a track with a lighted torch, and in a few minutes the gallery was as bright as day.

ALBERTO D. W.

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CHARDON, OHIO.

YOUNG PEOPLE is given me by my good grandpa. I gave him a pocket-knife which I found. I was five years old in April, and can not yet read, though I know all my letters, can make every one of them with a pencil, and can spell my name.

Both papa and mamma were formerly teachers. They and grandpa read the pretty stories aloud, and I look at the pictures.

My little sister, nearly two years old, has black eyes and curly hair. We play together, feed the chickens, make mud pies, and swing under the apple-tree. We have a steady horse named Betty, and a frisky two-year-old colt; two pussies, Tabby and Topsy; and Topsy has two kitties. Grandpa wants to go to New York, and get acquainted with Harper & Brothers.

BESSIE H.

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ORPHANS' HOME, ROCHESTER, BEAVER COUNTY, PENN.

My uncle began sending me your paper last fall, and I like it very much. I am an orphan, and live at the Home in this place. It is a beautiful house, situated on a hill from which we have a very extensive view, seeing ten miles up and down the Ohio River. Last week we had examination in our school, and now we have vacation for two months. We have a large play-ground, several games of croquet, and a swing. I like "Paul Grayson," "Toby Tyler," "Mildred's Bargain," and "The Cruise of the 'Ghost'" best of all your stories. I was thirteen years old the 19th of March last. Can you or any of the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE inform me how many cities in Egypt spoke the language of Canaan?

LUELLA M. H.

The language of Canaan was substantially the same as Hebrew. In this sense it was spoken in no Egyptian city. The Phoenician language spoken in Carthage was closely allied to the Hebrew. The Egyptian language itself shows a similar resemblance both to the Phoenician and Hebrew.

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DETROIT, MICHIGAN.

I am deeply interested in the YOUNG PEOPLE, and think it is not only a paper from which much pleasure may be derived, but also one from which we can learn a great deal. I do not suppose this will find its way to the Post-office Box, but I shall feel much gratification if it does. I am thirteen years old. I have eight pretty rabbits, which are very cute.

FRANK L. W. B.

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VICTORIA, TEXAS.

If Mrs. Alice Richardson would like some numbers of YOUNG PEOPLE, she is welcome to some of mine. Jimmy Brown writes funny stories. I like "Toby Tyler," "Mildred's Bargain," "Susie Kingman's Decision," and "Aunt Ruth's Temptation" best of all. I would like to tell the little readers something about our birds. There is a mocking-bird that builds in our honeysuckle every spring. The dear little humming-bird sips the honey of our flowers.

SADIE E. S.

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GERMANTOWN, NEW YORK.

I am twelve years old, and this is my first letter to the Post-office Box. I think "The Cruise of the 'Ghost'" is splendid. My cousins were down from Albany, and we camped out for three or four days. We went fishing, and set our lines one night, and we caught an eel two and one-half feet long. Papa made me a present of a new set of harness. He lets me drive one of our horses, because it is gentle.

E. C. R.

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BURLINGTON, KANSAS.

I live on a farm. My papa has a sheep ranch. I have a little brother six years old. I am ten myself. I have a pony, and a pet bird that will fight with me. When he wants to fight, he chirps to let me know. It is quite warm here now, with little rain. I think Judith W.'s letter was splendid.

GRACIE MAY B.

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BROOKLYN, NEW YORK.

I have a little silver-fish for one of my pets, and every morning when I change the water I give him a fly. He has become so tame that he will take it out of my fingers, and as the fall is coming, I don't know what I shall feed him with. Will you please tell me what I can give him?

I think the Jimmy Brown stories are splendid. Papa asks me every Tuesday if there is anything by Jimmy, and if there is, he reads it aloud to us.

I am glad that Mr. Otis has written another story for YOUNG PEOPLE. His stories are so natural, and so very interesting! Can you tell me where Swaffham is? I think it must be in some of the British Possessions, for the postmark is on an English stamp. If you will please answer my questions, I shall be very much obliged.

MAMIE E. F.

A prepared fish food is sold at the bird stores. We have given it to gold and silver fish, and they like it. Swaffham is a town of England, in Norfolk. It is situated on a height, and is one of the best-built towns in the county.

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PLYMOUTH, NEW HAMPSHIRE.

I am a boy eleven and a half years old, and the son of a Methodist minister. We have a beautiful home at the foot of the White Mountains, on the banks of the Pemigewasset River, about one hundred miles south of Mount Washington, and over one hundred miles north of Boston. I am collecting curiosities. I have already nice specimens of zinc, lead, amethyst, beryl, gypsum, agate, etc., among the minerals, also arrow-head, ivory-nut, Florida moss, etc. I hail the coming of your paper with delight, and long for Tuesday to arrive and bring it.

FRED S. K.

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ABILENE, TAYLOR COUNTY, TEXAS.

I am a little girl nine years old, and I live out on the Texas and Pacific Railroad, sixty-five miles from Fort Concha. I often find very lovely butterflies, white with brown-streaked wings. We see beautiful antelopes when we are out riding. Mamma has a phaeton, and a gentle horse called Frank. Josie and Earle (my two baby brothers) and I take long drives with mamma. There are many tarantulas here, resembling large hairy spiders. I have killed several. We sometimes see whole families of prairie-dogs--papa, mamma, and the little ones--on top of the hill, beside their holes, as we pass, and they bark loudly till we are close to them, when they wag their tails, and scamper off into their hiding-places.

We had to go out and fight prairie fire the other day. It came within a dozen rods of our home. We beat it out with coffee sacks.

I wish to exchange Texas moss, soil, and stones, for shells.

HATTIE W. MCELROY.

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AGNES S.--If you have no acquaintances living near any of the historical trees mentioned in the article in No. 83, you might write to the postmaster of the place nearest the tree from which you wish to obtain a leaf, and ask him if his little daughter or sister will kindly procure one for you. A polite note, inclosing a stamped envelope, addressed to yourself, for the reply, will probably receive attention. You must not try this plan, however, until you have inquired among your friends, and ascertained that none of them know anybody to whom they can apply.

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C. WHITTY.--The specimen you inclosed in your note was sulphate of copper, commonly known as vitriol.

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STUDENT.--SHORT-HAND.--_Graham's Hand-Book of Standard Phonography_ is an excellent guide to the art of rapid writing. If you study hard, and follow the ample directions of Mr. Graham, taking every opportunity to practice "short-hand" reporting, you will become an adept. You can order this book through any bookseller, but Mr. Graham has an office at the Bible House, Fourth Avenue, New York.

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AURORA J. M. C.--The authors of whom you inquire are not related.

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"NORTH STAR."--The President of the L. A. W. is Mr. Charles E. Pratt, 597 Washington Street, Boston, Massachusetts. The badge of the League can only be procured by members.

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J. WILMER COX.--A 36-inch bicycle will be large enough for you. You had better get a bicycle known as the "Mustang."

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John M. Faglon, 25 Columbia Street, Brooklyn, New York, changes his offer for a bicycle from 36 to 40 inches to 42 to 46 inches.

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HARRY R. H.--Fiske & Co., 98 Fulton Street, or Ben Day, 48 Beekman Street, New York city, will give you the necessary information.

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Willie and James Dudley withdraw from our exchange list.

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MISS MARY T., W. F., AND OTHERS.--The address of Miss Judith Wolff is care of Mr. D. A. De Lima, 68 William Street, New York city.

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WASHINGTON.--The site of our national capital was selected by General Washington, after whom it was named, and he laid out its general plan. It seemed desirable that the capital of the entire country should not be located in any State, and therefore the District of Columbia was set apart for the purpose of holding it. Your history will tell you that the District is formed of a portion of territory ceded by Maryland and Virginia. The situation was a very convenient one at the time the site of Washington was selected, and it still seems wisely chosen for many reasons, though in the summer season it is subject to malarial influences.

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MISS J. F. B.--The answer to the Geographical Puzzle in No. 85 appeared in No. 88.

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L. G. R. wishes to beg D. Van Buren's pardon for having sent the wrong stamps. She has just begun collecting stamps, and supposed those she sent were official. She discovered her mistake after having sent her letter. She will try to procure some real official stamps, and will send them if successful.

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Leola C. Carter's address is changed from Ashland, Nebraska, to Rosebud Agency, Dakota Territory.

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The following is a list of donations received previous to August 4 for the Young People's Cot in St. Mary's Free Hospital for Children, 407 West Thirty-fourth Street, New York city. The next list will be published October 4.

Otis M. Freeman, $3; Willie and Daisy Hinman, Brooklyn, N. Y., 70 cents; V. N. Appleton, Boonton, N. J., 50 cents; Richard P. Appleton, Boonton, N. J., $2; "Our Baby" Appleton, Boonton, N. J., $2; Bonnie T. Roodhouse, Washington, D. C., $1; Edith B. Hanson, Damariscotta, Me., 25 cents; Willie Lanksbury, Rochester, N. Y., 10 cents; Charlotte Jamieson, Alexandria, Va., 10 cents; Elaine Massett, Plainfield, N. J., $1; "Daisy," New York, 25 cents; Helena Carroll Frazier, Rye Beach, N. H., $1; James G. King, New York, 25 cents; Georgie Sherer, Scranton, Penn., 25 cents; Bessie Sherer, Scranton, Penn., 25 cents; Mina and Aggie Hall, Greenfield, Mass., $2; Alexander and Agnes Horsburgh, Christina and Kittie Schmidt, and Hiram H. and Mary P. Bice, Utica, N. Y., $1.50; Bessie Deming, Arlington, Vt., 25 cents; Julia Cracraft, Wheeling, W. Va., $1; Lou ----, Summit, N. J., $1; Edith Worden, Meadville, Penn., $1; Anna and Levi Paxson, Reading, Penn., $1; Carl, New York, $2; John P. Morrow, Cooperstown, N. Y., $1; Louis P. Dains, East Litchfield, Conn., $1; Lillian E. Dains, East Litchfield, Conn., $1; Allie Mitchell, Davenport, Iowa, 20 cents; Daisy Mitchell, Davenport, Iowa, 10 cents; Willie, Josie, and Georgie Chamberlain, Mount Olivet, 60 cents; Charlie W. Munson, Litchfield, Conn., 20 cents; Bessie W. Bolton, $1; Ora J. Kinney, Chebause, Ill., $1; Eva V. C. Morris, Barton-on-Sound, $1; Newbold Morris, Barton-on-Sound, $1; Lena Hutchins, Landaff, N. H., 25 cents; Allie and Lou, Lockport, N. Y., $1; Lussie Benedict, Norwalk, Ohio, $1.25; Grace G. Cordell, Pleasant Hill, 25 cents; Bernard Major, Jun., Petersburg, Va., $1; Lulu M. Noyes, Franklin, N. H., 25 cents; Florence N. Nolan, Plainfield, N. J., $1; Evelyn W. Craft, Portchester, N. Y., 50 cents; Charles Cruger Pyne, Morris Cove, $1; Bertha E. Smith, Philadelphia, Penn., $1; Lewis Balch, Jun., Kingston, R. I., $1; Nellie M. Nelson, Cold Spring, N. Y., 25 cents; H. S. Pernot, Bowling Green, Ohio. 75 cents; Helen M. Prescot, Ticonderoga, N. Y., $1; Mary Leeket, Chicago, Ill., 50 cents; Carl F. Moll, Tunnel City, Wis., 50 cents; Arthur H. Moll, Tunnel City, Wis., 50 cents; Milly R. Noble, Menomonee, Wis., $1; Lottie Noble, Menomonee, Wis., 50 cents; Jennie Noble, Menomonee, Wis., 50 cents; Jimmie Noble, Menomonee, Wis., 3 cents; Connie Rich, Red Wing, Minn., $1. Total, $45.53.

E. A. FANSHAWE, Treasurer.

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From the many letters received by the Treasurer of the fund for the Young People's Cot in St. Mary's Hospital, the following are published to show how great an interest has been aroused among our readers by this appeal to their sympathy:

TUNNEL CITY, WISCONSIN.

We read your letter in HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, and wanted to help endow the Young People's Cot right off; so my brother and I went and picked huckleberries and sold them, and we each send you fifty cents to help now. Perhaps we may get more after a while, and then we will send it.

CARL F. M. (age 9 years). ARTHUR H. M. (age 7 years).

P.S.--We inclose a one-dollar bill.

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TICONDEROGA, NEW YORK.

I take HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. Saw notice of July 26, with reference to Young People's Cot. Inclosed please find my contribution of one dollar for that purpose. I have agreed to go without candy for one month, so that I may send my mite, with the hope that it may do some trifling good at least.

HELEN M. P.

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MEADVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA.

I only received my little paper last night, and as I always read the little letters, yours was the first I saw. I send you one dollar--all I have of my own. I had saved it to get me a doll; but mamma says perhaps Santa Claus will bring me one if I am good. I cheerfully give this to help endow a cot for the poor little sick children, and hope you will get enough. I think HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE is splendid. I read it all.

EDITH W.

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DAMARISCOTTA, MAINE.

I received my HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE two hours ago, and I am very much pleased with your plan about the Children's Cot. I am eight years old, and I send twenty-five cents that I have earned myself. I wish it was more. Yours truly,

EDITH B. H.

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Answers to Railroad Puzzle in No. 91 have been received from Frank A. Reilly, Hattie S. Becker, C. H. Nichols, "Rip Van Winkle," W. S. Beekman, E. H. L. Randolph, Archibald E. Dietz, Edgar P. Earle, Walter W. Norton, F. C. G., F. N. C., and F. P. Prindle, H. N. K., William A. Bird, Jun., Ira B. Keeler.

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Correct answers to puzzles have been received from J. B. Senior, George Sylvester, _Frank L. Davis_, Clara M. Burt, "North Star," _Bert B. Basset_, "Vi O. Let," Agnes G. Fletcher, "Starry Flag," Frank Lomas, Eddie S. Hequembourg, Mabel Wilson, Howard A. Smith, "Princess Daisie," Susie Howes, _Augusta Low Parke_, Milton W. Dunn, H. N. Pleis, Fannie L. Dard, "A. U. GUSTA," Edward L. Haines, Edward L. Hunt, Bessie W. Bolton, Willie Jackson, "Pansy," "The Chums," Mima Gurnie, Agnes L. Fletcher, "Phil I. Pene," "René," "Will O. Tree," N. G. Yerburg, Emma Roehm, "Dandy," Lizzie C. Carnahan, J. Pendergast.

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PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

NUMERICAL ENIGMA.

I am composed of 14 letters. I am the name of one who was a great and good man. My 1 and 5 is an exclamation. My 2, 6, 3 is a term used in music. My 4, 13, 8 is the whole. My 11, 12, 9, 10 is hard money. My 11, 12, 3, 14 is a vegetable.

PRINCESS DAISIE.

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No. 2.

EASY WORD SQUARES.

1. A poet. A river in Asia. To ramble. A tower.

2. A fertilizing earth. A disease. Destruction. Transferred for a time.

MABEL WILSON.

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No. 3.

DIAMOND.

1. Last letter of that English word of one syllable which contains the greatest number of consonants. 2. A weight. 3. Outward wrappings of fruits or grains. 4. What is left when something is removed. 5. An invigorating medicine. 6. An insect. 7. Fourth preceding letter from the vowel used most frequently in the English language.

LILIAN ESTELLE.

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No. 4.

THREE CHARADES.

My first is always. My second is durable. My whole is without an end.

W. E. A. W.

My first goes dancing down the hill To grind the corn that comes to mill. My second grows by night and morn, And home at last is gayly borne. My whole is beautiful to see, And every boy is fond of me.

JOE.

My whole is an ornament to the garden. My first is famous for cunning. My second is usually prized by young ladies, and disdained by school-boys, and is an article in common use.

ARTHUR HOPE.

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ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 91.

No. 1.

Connecticut.

No. 2.

Daisies.

No. 3.

Leopard. Ape. Cat. Bat. Badger. Saw-fish. Rabbit. Grebe. Hen. Herring.

No. 4.

L E I S U R E P F O U N D L A L E R A K I S A A R B I B S Y N C O P A T E I E T G T E R V D C A T S A E P I T C H L L I B E R T Y

No. 5.

T R E E R I G A E G G S E A S T

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The following is the solution of Railroad Puzzle, on page 624:

1. The "first half" of the passenger train (including the engine) goes down, and backs up on the switch.

2. The freight train goes up by the switch, and lets the "first half" of the passenger train out on the main track below.

3. The freight train couples on to the "last half" of the passenger train, goes down, then pushes up on the switch, and leaves it.

4. The freight train backs off the switch, and then goes ahead about its business.

5. The "first half" of the passenger train backs upon the switch and gets the "last half" of itself, and goes on about its business.

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[_For exchanges, see third page of cover._]

A STRING TRICK.

BY HELEN P. STRONG.

Here is a wonder in which there can be no danger of imposition, for in this you may let your audience have literally a finger. You ought to practice this--and indeed every string trick--somewhat before you venture to show off much; but having learned to do it quickly and easily, you may with considerable confidence ask some one to hold up a forefinger, as in Fig. 1. Slipping one end of your string over the offered finger, and holding the other end by your own little finger, catch up the left-hand string with the little finger of the right hand, thrusting your middle finger between the strings precisely as shown in Fig. 1. Now place the third finger of the left hand in the position indicated by the dotted hand, using it to draw both strings to the left at that point, while you draw the right hand in the opposite direction, and finally place the middle finger of your right hand upon the end of your neighbor's finger.

The hands will now be somewhat in the position shown in Fig. 2, and the string will seem hopelessly entangled. The apparent complication, however, has only prepared the way for unravelling the tangle, as will appear if you loosen your hold of all parts of the string save the end first taken, that which passes over the little finger of your left hand, by which the string may be freely drawn away, though you still keep your finger resting upon that of your neighbor. Your satisfaction in accomplishing this feat will be enhanced by the fact that any false move will result in fastening the borrowed finger in a slip-knot.

MOTHER'S DEAR TREASURE.

BY A. L. A. SMITH.

Down stairs in the kitchen is mother's dear treasure, Desirous of helping, for "Topsy" is out; Her face is lit up with the rainbow of pleasure, And mother knows not what her darling's about.

"Oh my! dis 'tove's dirty--I fink I 'ill clean it." So, taking the blacking and brush by her side, She laid it on thick till, oh my! had you seen it And her, I am sure you'd have laughed till you cried.

"Oh dear, I's so tired! I dess I'll be doing Up 'tairs to my mamma, and tell her tome see; I dess she can 'top for a minute her sewing, And pay just a 'ittle bit 'tention to me."

But when this fond mother espied her wee daughter Come toddling in, with her hands and face black, She burst into laughter, then ran for some water To see if her darling or Topsy'd come back.

End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Young People, August 16, 1881, by Various