Harper's Young People, December 27, 1881 An Illustrated Weekly

letter I said, "I will join you, Augusta, for I hate cats too.

Chapter 24,533 wordsPublic domain

ETTA M.

How delightful it must be to canter to school through the woods. If Daisy is sometimes a little frisky, her mistress must keep a steady and delicate hand on the rein, sit firmly in her saddle, and often pet and caress her horse, so that she will understand that her rider is her friend. It is possible to win the affection and confidence of a horse so that it will understand nearly every word you say to it.

Why not call your dolly Katrine, or Gretchen, or Fairy, or Maud? There are many pretty names for dolls, and as you are dolly's mamma, you should not neglect the duty of naming her.

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WILDWOOD, CATAHOULA PARISH, LOUISIANA.

Several weeks ago I wrote you proposing an exchange of deer horns, leaves, and mosses, never dreaming of having so many applications for the horns--all nice offers, too. As I am at home only one day of the week--boarding from home to attend school--I could not possibly reply to all; so I decided to answer through the Post-office Box. I wish to say I think Jackson Bechler's offer would best please me, if he would only name his curiosities, and the expense of my getting them. As we have no near express office, the horns would have to be sent by boat to New Orleans; the expense from here to New Jersey would be about $1.75. I forgot in my previous letter to say that one of the horns on one point was fractured by a shot. I have three pairs, the one just mentioned the largest, which measures twenty-four inches from head to tip--that is, _one shank_; fifteen inches from tip to tip; four points on each shank. The second pair is a little less, but not so pretty, as they were shot before the horns hardened, and instead of making a straight point, it is somewhat contorted. The third are little beauties, which we used on the bow of our boat when we had skiff races during high water. As I had only one offer for leaves, etc., I answered by postal. I hope to hear soon from my young friends.

MARIE LOUISE USHER.

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BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS.

In a recent number of YOUNG PEOPLE you said that some little New England girl could have a corner if she chose to write, and although I am not so very little, I hope I may have part of a corner in the Post-office Box.

In a letter from Viola B. a week or two ago she spoke of the names of Southern children, and afterward you said that you had seen an allusion to the same thing in a book you had read lately. Will you please tell me in what book you saw it, if you remember, as I wish to know if it is the same book I saw it in.

I agree with Miss Viola in regard to telling the age.

L. H.

The book was _Homoselle_, which belongs to the "No Name Series" of novels.

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KNOWLTON, CANADA.

I am a little girl six years old. The only pet I have is a little baby sister, whom I love very much. I went to a mill with papa a few weeks ago, and saw them card wool into rolls, and weave flannel. I live on a farm near Brome Lake, and there is a river runs through the pasture back of our house, and in warm weather we like to take off our shoes and stockings and go in wading. I had a little flower garden last summer. It was my very own. I had some petunias and sweet-peas, and some pretty gladioli; and I had some daisies and pansies, and sweet-williams too. My sister Connie helped me weed my garden. I have a wax doll which I often play with. Her name is May. The prettiest dress she has is a red one trimmed with fringe, and she wears a lace bib with it. Her every-day dress is gray, with little red bows all down the front of it. I have a carriage to push her around in. It was one of my Christmas presents last year. I read all the letters and most of the stories in YOUNG PEOPLE, but I can not write yet, so mamma is writing this for me. The stories I like best are "Susie Kingman's Decision," "Phil's Fairies," "Toby Tyler," and "The Cruise of the 'Ghost.'" I am tired now, so I will not write any more.

BESSIE C.

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WEEDVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA.

Please may some of the boys write in defense of the cats, as well as the girls? We think Augusta would like our cat if she could see it. It is white, with large black and yellow spots. We call it Popcorn. The white for the corn that is popped, the yellow for before it is popped, and the black for that that got burned. Popcorn and our little dog Felix go fishing with us down in the woods. She can follow as well as Felix. When Felix has to be punished, he cries; then Popcorn runs up to him and licks his face, and we know she is sorry for him. We think so much of both! We had to go a mile to school last summer, and Felix would start from home about four o'clock, and meet us sometimes nearly half of the way. We wondered how he knew when to start. He would be so glad to see us, he would jump nearly as high as our heads. When we got home, Popcorn would be waiting for us on the front steps. We like YOUNG PEOPLE, and are glad Tip didn't die.

We have coaxed mamma to write this for us.

DWIGHT, EDDIE, and CLARE A.

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WESTMORELAND COUNTY, VIRGINIA.

One of the little correspondents said she had a three-legged cat. I want to tell you of a kitten we had which had six legs, one on either side with the toes turning backward.

EMILY C. M.

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OVIEDO, ORANGE COUNTY, FLORIDA.

I am a little boy seven years old, and live in South Florida, on Lake Jessup--a large lake in Orange County. My father has a beautiful orange grove, and some of the trees are just loaded with oranges. We also have a pine-apple grove; but the strangest thing I ever saw is a pawpaw-tree; it is bearing and blooming at the same time, and the shape of the fruit is like a musk-melon in size, and my father could get a hundred dollars for it if he were to try. I have some pets and other things, but I won't write about them now. I have been taking YOUNG PEOPLE for nearly a year.

THEODORE A.

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QUEENSTOWN, MARYLAND.

I have wished for some time to write and thank you for the great pleasure YOUNG PEOPLE gives me. I love so its coming once a week.

I wish I had something to offer little Marie Louise Usher in exchange for her deer horns. We all read her letter with so much pleasure last week. One of my uncles went, some winters ago, to look after his interests in Hope Estate, Louisiana. It adjoins Dr. Usher's residence; and Uncle George says then Marie Louise was a little girl like I am now, not more than six or seven years old. He was so pleased to read her letter, for he enjoyed his visit to the sunny South.

My subscription to YOUNG PEOPLE runs out the 11th of December, but Aunt Kate, who is going to Baltimore in a few days, will renew it for another year. I made the money myself, selling "Stowell's Evergreen Corn." I have every number of this year, not one torn or soiled, and I want to have it bound by the Baltimore News Company, where I subscribe. It was a Christmas gift this year from my two aunts.

I have a nice little girl, Clara, from an orphan asylum, who plays with and reads to me. I go to school, and do not play much with dolls, though I have eighteen. Like most of the subscribers, I have a cat, Toby; for "Toby Tyler" was the very nicest continued story I ever read.

I was in a spelling-class yesterday of a dozen or more girls and boys, and I spelled "duenna" after it had passed almost all the others. I was so "clapped" (because I am so little), I thought the school-house was on fire; so I began to cry.

I shall think it a very nice Christmas gift if you will publish my letter. Good-by, Mr. Harper.

ANNA H. D.

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GEORGE H. P.--Your long trip must have been very delightful. There is nothing much pleasanter in life than a boy's journey under the care of a kind and indulgent father. But your mother must have felt a little anxious about her travellers while they were enduring 500 miles of staging, bathing in Salt Lake, and venturing into other dangerous places. No doubt she was very glad indeed when you both arrived safely at home. Your exchange will duly appear.

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MARIAN M.--The two kittens named Cenny and Tenny, after the Centennial year, in which they were born, must have been very amusing, from your description of them.

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FLORA S.--Carlo must be a little torment, and yet we do not wonder at your loving him dearly.

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C. Y. P. R. U.

We have pleasure in giving our readers this vivid description of the cruise of the adventurous little _Toby Tyler_ since we left her, some weeks ago, in the beautiful harbor of Norfolk, Virginia.

FIVE DAYS IN THE DISMAL SWAMP.

There is one portion of the journey of the _Toby Tyler_ which can hardly fail to interest the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE, although they might not care much for a record of the entire voyage. The trip through the Dismal Swamp occupied nearly five days, not because the little steamer could not have passed over the thirty miles of canal sooner, but because all on board were disposed to linger where the scenery was so novel and fascinating.

We will not try to give here a lesson in geography, nor to tell the exact size, location, and characteristics of these three hundred miles of submerged forest. This letter will simply contain an account of what the passengers of the _Toby Tyler_ saw after leaving Norfolk, sailing five miles up the Elizabeth River, and entering what is known as the Dismal Swamp Canal.

Each one had expected to see a veritable swamp, where the trees would appear to be growing in the water, and where it would be impossible to walk, even a few paces, save at the risk of sinking deep in the mud. But dismal as the swamp is, it is not quite as bad as had been imagined. To be sure, there are miles and miles of territory where one would find it impossible to walk, owing both to the water and tangle of brake and vine; but along the banks of the canal the land is not only quite as firm as elsewhere, but there are several villages, where were found children who had read of the coming of the _Toby Tyler_, and were watching for the little steamer.

At those points where the marshy portions of the great swamp extend fully out to the canal, hedges of cane and flags have been trained, so that one sees only the masses of verdure which seem to have been cut apart by the narrow ribbon of water on which floated great barges and steamers, past which it seemed impossible the _Toby_ could go, from sheer lack of space.

And the water in the canal looked so very strange, because, instead of being clear, it is exactly the color of strong tea, owing to the juniper-trees, which grow in the swamp in such profusion as to discolor it. But it tastes like the purest of spring water despite its queer look, and the ships of war sailing from the Portsmouth Navy-yard carry it for drinking purposes, because it will keep sweet and fresh six or eight months.

The charm and beauty of the swamp are not to be seen as one sails through its brown water-way; if one wishes to see it in all its dismal waste, he should do as did the voyagers on the _Toby_, and that is, explore some of the small rivers that cross the canal by means of a boat. The one belonging to the _Toby_ is fourteen feet long, and can sail where the water is not more than five or six inches deep; it may also interest some of your readers to know that it is named _Mr. Stubbs_. In this little craft the writer and the artist almost forced their way up what is known as Old River, pushing aside branches of trees and clinging vines that seemed doing their best to prevent any one from entering the retreat they guarded.

Fifty yards in from the canal it was as if one had gotten miles away from all traces of civilization; not a sound was to be heard save the hooting of an owl or the twitter of the small birds; on a log just ahead an assembly of terrapin were holding a convention, probably to protest against being considered such a delicacy in the way of food; while just beyond, under the roots of an overturned tree, could be seen the head of a small bear, that was trying to make up his mind whether it would be better to run away, or stay and find out what the intruders wanted. He concluded to leave, however, and the terrapin followed his example by rolling off the log with a great splash, thus leaving the two explorers alone in a river that seemed all trees and but little water. It was indeed a swamp, or rather a submerged forest, this river, and it was only with the greatest difficulty the little boat could be forced along. After the banks of the canal were left astern it was no longer possible to distinguish the course of this river, for it stretched out in one broad body of water, which so mingled with the swamp that no one could say it had banks, or even a channel.

Perhaps a mile was passed over by alternate rowing and pulling, and then further progress was impeded by huge trees that had fallen into the water, completely blocking the way. Ahead, astern, and on either hand could be seen the dark, shallow water, thickly studded with trees from which hung the gray trailing moss so plentiful here. No sound broke the silence, no sign of life could be seen, no traces of man anywhere. It was certainly as wild a place as can be imagined, and the two exploring it thought they had seen the most dismal portion of this wonderful swamp.

In this, however, they found they were mistaken, when, on the following day, the _Toby_ was anchored in the main canal, and in _Mr. Stubbs_ the party rowed up a smaller canal into the lake of the swamp--Lake Drummond. Imagine this vast swamp (for up this last canal there was no question as to the swampy nature of the place), in the heart of which is a large body of water separated from that around it by an army of tree trunks bleached to a light gray by the sun and weather. Back of this ashen-colored border the juniper and pine trees lift their heads so high that the sun only illumines the water at noonday, while at other times the shadows cast by the trees on the brown water lend to all objects a purplish hue that is at least startling when first seen. It is a strange, weird-looking place, where one involuntarily whispers, as if he feared to waken nature from its solemn repose.

To describe this body of water in the midst of the vast swamp is impossible, so strange is the sensation the visitor has when seeing it for the first time. It was early in the morning when the passengers from the _Toby_ arrived at the lake, and it was late in the afternoon before any of them remembered that they must return to the little steamer. Then it was almost a race to get back to the yacht in order that the village of South Mills could be reached before dark.

In this attempt, however, the voyagers were unsuccessful, owing to an exciting hunt which a party of gentlemen were having after a deer. They succeeded in their murderous design, for they killed him as he attempted to swim across the canal just under the bow of the _Toby_.

Late that night, when the little steamer was made fast to the pier at the village that marks the southern end of the canal, the voyagers on the yacht had venison steaks for supper that were cut from the deer they had seen killed, and all hands retired, almost sad that the journey through the swamp was ended, but anticipating very much from the trip down the Pasquotank River to Albemarle Sound.

JAMES OTIS.

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HOWARD B.--You could have no more appropriate name for your dancing club than the one you have selected, "Lads and Lasses." All sorts of pretty and tasteful trifles may be used for favors, such as little bells, rosettes, flags, stars, butterflies, sashes, pictures, and flowers. At present tiny Japanese fans, umbrellas, cups, and vases are fashionable. Flowers are always appropriate as favors. The German affords scope for individual taste, and the favors may be very simple or very costly, as circumstances may regulate the affair. But while in some cases gold or silver jewelry has been given in the way of favors, it will be better for a club of young people to confine themselves to trinkets which, while of small money value, may still be pretty enough to be kept as souvenirs of a happy evening.

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DEAR POSTMISTRESS,--We have had a little discussion as to the proper method of hanging our pictures, and as we can not agree, will you kindly settle the question. We have hung them about on a level with our eyes, and are satisfied that that arrangement is good. The trouble is to know the proper angle of inclination. We had the tops of the frames about four inches from the wall; but a friend came in the other evening, and deliberately told us that that was all wrong. He then made rolls of stiff paper and, with them behind the pictures, forced the top of each frame about eighteen inches from the wall. Some of the family like the effect, and some declare it hideous. Which plan is considered the correct one by those who ought to know?

TRENTON.

In hanging pictures it is well to have the middle of the picture in line with the eye. Let all small pictures be as flat as possible against the wall, and for larger ones let the angle of inclination depend upon size, making it invariably as small as you can. Only for a very large picture would an angle of eighteen inches be admissible. I would advise you to take away the stiff rolls of paper, and trust to your own sense of the beautiful and becoming rather than, in this instance, to your friend's judgment.

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ELSIE.--Your question whether it is ever right to make other people the subject of conversation is easily answered. It is right to speak of our friends and acquaintances, if we do so kindly, and talk of their good qualities. Nothing is so mean as to speak unkindly of the absent, who can not defend themselves. Conversation, if restricted to historical facts, as you propose, would be very dull.

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CONSTANT READER.--It would be better to meet on some evening in the week than to confine yourselves to Sunday evening. But if you are engaged every other evening, why not meet from four to six on Sunday afternoon, and leave the evening free to go to church? You might take up some good book of Eastern travel, or the life of some noble man like Garfield or Lincoln, and read it together. Call yourselves the Inquirers, if your aim is, as I imagine it to be, to find out what is worthy, and follow it. I do not think boys of your age should stay away from church on Sunday evening either to read or hold debates. You will learn much more, both mentally and spiritually, by attending regularly on the ministry of some clergyman whom you enjoy hearing.

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FLAVEL S. M., New Brighton, New York, found a dandelion in an exposed place, as bright as ever, and in full bloom, on December 5.

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GRACIE M.--The Postmistress knows of nothing which will remove superfluous hair from the face or arms.

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This week we would call the attention of the C. Y. P. R. U. to the comprehensive little article on John Bright under the head of "People We Hear About"; to the "Chat on Philately," which carries us away to the northern coast of South America; and to the charming article on foreign travel, entitled "Tom Fairweather's Holiday in Madeira." Then we want them all to read the story called "Sam Jenkins's Dream." Not that any of them are like the Sam of the Old Year, but because every one of us, no matter how good we are already, wants to take a new and a fresh and a better start in the New Year to come.

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PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

TWO ENIGMAS.

1.

My first is in snow, but not in rain. My second in nip, but not in bite. My third is in mount, but not in plain. My fourth is in weasel, but not in kite. My fifth is in butter, but not in cheese, My sixth is in ice, but not in freeze. My seventh is in rosy, but not in pale. My eighth is in dimple, but not in veil. My whole is as lovely as well can be Anything half so wild and free.

2.

In scatter, not in plant. In polish, not in rub. In arrow, not in bow. In ripple, not in flow. In river, not in tub. In ocean, not in lake. In ewer, not in dish. Of me now, what do you make? Am I bird, or bee, or fish?

SUSAN NIPPER.

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No. 2.

NUMERICAL ENIGMA.

My first is the initial letter of a city in Illinois. My second, of a city in Connecticut. My third, of a river in Virginia. My fourth, of one of the Territories. My fifth, of a city in Georgia. My sixth, of a city in Florida. My seventh, of a State in New England. My eighth, of a city in Texas. My ninth, of a river in Pennsylvania. My whole was delightful to us all.

C. C. R.

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No. 3.

EASY DIAMOND.

1. A letter. 2. To wager. 3. A spiral line. 4. A metal. 5. A letter.

TOBY TYLER.

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ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 110.

No. 1.

1.

U ru S N es T I ow A T ar T E as E D og S

2.

M ai L A si A R ai N Y ar D

No. 2.

Z O N E S C E D A R C O B R A B L U R T E X T R A

No. 3. Evil communications corrupt good manners.

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Correct answers to puzzles have been received from Effie M. Laurence, Florence Chambers, Elvira Urisarri, Gracie S., J. H., Jessie and Willie Martin, "Fill Buster," Forrest F., "Queen Bess," Rita Harris, Olive A. McAdams. "Lodestar," Frank G. Ames, Clara, Percy L. McDermott, Roy W. Osborne, A. E. Cressingham, Bob, Frank M. Scott, "Toby Tyler," Willie Curtis, William A. Lewis, George Sylvester, Annetta Jackson, "Day Z." M. L. H., "No Name."

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The answer to the Enigma published on the concluding page of No. 111 is Comb.

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The prize puzzle and the name of the successful puzzler will be given in No. 114.

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

A DIRE CATASTROPHE.

"'Tis very true I'm dressed in silk, But I must have A drink of milk."

A sudden fall: What has been done? Too much, alas! Is worse than none.

SCIENTIFIC PUZZLES.

The experiment represented in Fig. 1 illustrates the pressure of the atmosphere. Fill a goblet with water up to the brim, and then cover it with a sheet of paper which touches both the edge of the glass and the surface of the water. Turn the glass upside down, and the sheet of paper, held in its place by the pressure of the air, will prevent the water from running out. It frequently happens that this experiment is only successfully performed after a series of fruitless attempts on the part of the operator. We therefore suggest that it shall be made over a basin, and not where there are expensive articles to be ruined by a douche of water.

Fig. 2 represents another illustration of atmospheric pressure. Light a piece of paper, and when it begins to burn brightly, thrust it into an empty water bottle. Within a few seconds close the neck of the bottle with a hard-boiled egg from which the shell has been removed. The burning of the paper exhausts the air in the bottle, and the egg is gradually thrust in by the pressure of the outside atmosphere. It will finally pass completely through the neck of the bottle, giving a little explosive sound.

In Fig. 3 we have an experiment illustrating the laws of force. A dime is placed on a table covered with a cloth or napkin. The coin can be drawn from beneath the glass without touching it or slipping anything under it. If the cloth near by be simply scratched with the nail of the forefinger, the elasticity of the material communicates the motion to the dime, which moves slowly in the direction of the finger, until it finally comes out entirely from beneath the glass.

The experiment shown in Fig. 4 is certain to result in the smashing of several eggs; we therefore advise that they should be hard-boiled in order to avoid serious catastrophes. By blowing into a claret glass containing an egg, it is possible to cause it to jump out of the glass, and with practice it may be made to pass from one glass into another.

WHAT IS A CHRISTMAS-BOX?

This question is not so easily answered as you may suppose; for though all little folk know that a Christmas-box is a gift made at Christmas-tide, such was not the original meaning of the word. Christmas-boxes were at first what we now call money-boxes. They were known as thrift-boxes, and consisted of small wide clay bottles with imitation stoppers, the upper part covered with a kind of green glaze. On the side was a slit into which money could be put, and as the money was collected at Christmas, the boxes in the course of time gave the name to the present.