CHAPTER II.

PHIL'S NEW FRIEND.

Old black Joe had not always been either a boot-black or fiddler. In his youthful days he had been a house-servant, and had prided himself on his many accomplishments--his dexterity at dinners, his grace at evening parties, the ease and unconcern with which he could meet embarrassing emergencies at either; but times had changed for him. His old employers had died, a scolding wife had made his home unhappy, he had lost the little money he had saved, and he was no longer the bright, cheerful young fellow he had been. Age and rheumatism had made him crusty; but beneath the outward manner, which sometimes was very cross, he had a tender heart and a pitiful nature.

Of late years he had picked up enough for his support in the many little ways incident to city life. He could whitewash, sweep chimneys, run on errands--or rather walk on them, and that, too, very slowly. He shovelled snow and carried coal, sawed wood and helped the servants at whose homes he was employed.

His occupations took him about to many houses, but he always irritated the people with whom he came in contact by invariably assuring them that their masters and mistresses were not of the real stuff that ladies and gentlemen of _his_ day were made of; that fine feathers did not make fine birds; that people nowadays were all alike, and had no manners.

He made one exception only, in favor of a maiden lady, whose parents he had known, whose servants were kind to him, and whose retired and dignified way of living quite suited his fastidiousness.

This was a Miss Schuyler; and nothing pleased Joe more than to have this one person, whom he regarded with unqualified admiration, send for him to bestow the monthly allowance she was in the habit of giving him. On the day that he expected this summons he always gave an extra touch to his toilet, exchanged his torn coat for a patched one, his slouch hat for a very much worn beaver adorned with a band of rusty crape, and out of the pocket of his coat, but never upon his hands, was to be seen an old pair of yellow kid gloves.

In the course of Joe's wanderings he had chanced to hear of the invalid boy Phil, who liked to listen to his fiddle, and it did not take long to strike up an acquaintance between them.

Often on a rainy day, or when work was dull, Joe would spend an hour or two with Phil, relieving his loneliness, soothing his pain, and cheering him with his music and his rambling talk about "old times" and the people he had seen.

It was the latter part of May, and had been very warm; but Joe buttoned up his best coat and donned his beaver, for his pay was due at Miss Schuyler's. She lived in a large house, rather imposing and handsome, and in the gayest part of the city; but she was by no means imposing or gay in her own person. A little figure, simply dressed, a kind face without beauty, a gentle manner, and a certain gracious kindliness and familiarity had endeared her to Joe. On this day she was not, as usual, sitting with her work in the library, where the sun poured in on the bronzes and richly bound volumes, on the old engravings and the frescoed ceiling--for Miss Schuyler liked light and warmth and color--but she was away up in the top of the house, directing her maids in the packing of blankets and woollens and furs, preparatory to leaving her house for the summer. Joe had mounted stair after stair seeking her, and by the time he reached her was quite out of breath; this, and the odor of camphor and cedar wood, made him sneeze and cough until Miss Schuyler said to one of the maids in a whisper, "The poor old soul would have been black in the face had he ever been white."

To Joe himself she said, very kindly, "My good old friend, you need not have taken so much trouble to see me; I could have come down to you."

"Laws, Miss Rachel, I knew you was busy, and nuffin's ever a trouble to do for you; I go to the tops of houses often--just come from one where poor Phil's a-groanin' with pain. That chile'll die if somebody don't do suthin fur him soon."

"What child?" asked Miss Schuyler, whose tender point was her love of children. "You haven't any grandchildren, Joe, have you?"

"No, Miss Rachel, de Lord nebber trusted me with any chil'en."

"Well, who is Phil?" said Miss Schuyler, absently; adding, to one of her maids, "Take care of that afghan; wrap it in an old linen sheet; it was knitted by a very dear friend, and I do not want it moth-eaten; I had rather lose a camel's-hair shawl." Which evidence of regard seemed very extravagant to the girl who was obeying instructions, but which Joe thought he appreciated.

"Haven't I tole ye about Phil, Miss Rachel?"

"I don't know. I don't think you have; but come down to my room, Joe, and then I can listen to your story."

Giving a few more directions, Miss Rachel led the way to a lovely sunny room, with flower baskets in the windows, soft blue draperies, and delicate appointments. Seating herself at a desk, and pointing Joe to a chair, upon which the old man carefully spread a silk handkerchief lest his clothes should soil the blue cushions, she counted out the money due him, and placed it in an envelope, saying, as she did so, "Now tell me about that child."

"It's a white chile, Miss Rachel."

"Well, I like white children, Joe, though I must confess the little colored ones are much more interesting," said Miss Rachel, smiling.

"I thought you liked my people, Miss Rachel; but this poor Phil's a gentleman's son, very much come down far's money goes. He is too young to know much about it, but the girl who takes care of him was brought up in his family, and she says they was well off once."

"But what about the boy?" asked Miss Schuyler, a little impatiently.

"He's a great sufferer, but he's a wonderful chile. He loves to have me play for him, and then he tells me the thoughts that come to him from the music. I's no great player, Miss Rachel," said Joe, modestly, "but you'd think I was, to hear him talk. He sees fairies, and he dreams beautiful things, and his big brown eyes look as if he could a'most see 'way up into heaven. Oh, he's a strange chile; but he'll die if he stays up in that garret room and nebber sees the green fields he's so hungry for."

Miss Rachel's eyes were moist, but she took a card and pencil from her desk. "Where does he live--in what street and what number?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Rachel-- You jess go up the Avenue, and turn down the fourth or fifth street, and up a block or two, and it's the fust house with a high stoop and green shutters. I allers go in the alleyway, so I forgit numbers."

Miss Schuyler bit her lip to keep from smiling, thought a moment, scribbled a memorandum, rang the bell, and gave some more directions; left the room, and came back with her bonnet on. "Can you show me the way to Phil's house, Joe?"

"Course I can, Miss Rachel," replied the old man, delighted that his words had aroused his listener's sympathies.

"It's not very far; he's all alone, 'cause Lisa has to be away all day. And I shouldn't wonder"--here he dropped his voice to a whisper--"if sometimes he was hungry; but he'd nebber say so."

This latter remark made Miss Schuyler bid Joe wait for her in the hall, while she went to a closet, found a basket, in which she placed a snowy napkin, some biscuit, some cold chicken, and a few delicious little cakes. In her pocket she put a little flask of some strong cordial she had found of service on her many errands of charity.

How proud Joe was to be her escort! but how meekly he walked behind the lady whose footsteps he thought were those of a real gentlewoman, the only one to whom he would accord this compliment, although he passed many elegant dames in gay attire.

The little gray figure, with its neat, quiet simplicity, was his embodiment of elegance, for somehow Joe had detected the delicate perfume of a sweet nature and a loving heart--a heart full of Christian charity and unselfishness.

They walked for some distance, and the day was so warm that Miss Schuyler moderated her usual rapid pace to suit the old man's feebler steps. Off the Avenue a long way, up another, down a side street, until, amidst a crowded, disagreeable neighborhood, Joe stopped.

"You had better lead me still, Joe. The boy might be frightened or annoyed at seeing a stranger: I dare say he's nervous. Go up, and I will wait outside the door while you ask him if I may come and see him. Wait, there's a flower stall a little way from here; I will get a bunch. Take my basket, and I will be back in a few moments. I am glad I thought of the flowers; children always like them."

She hastened off, while Joe leaned on his cane and muttered blessings upon her; but some rude boys beginning to chaff him, he turned on them with his usual crustiness, and quite forgot his beatitudes.

Miss Schuyler came back in a few minutes with a lovely bunch of bright blossoms embosomed in geranium leaves.

"Now, then, Joe, this shall be my card; take it in, and tell Phil I am coming."

"God bress you, Miss Rachel!" was all Joe could reply.

Miss Rachel had her own way of doing things. It was nothing new for her to carry flowers and dainties to the sick poor. She had been much with sick people, and she knew that those who have no luxuries and few necessaries care for the things which do not really sustain life quite as much as do those who can command both.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

MY MONKEY.

BY JIMMY BROWN.

There never was such luck. I've always thought that I'd rather have a monkey than be a million heir. There is nothing that could be half so splendid as a real live monkey, but of course I knew that I never could have one until I should grow up and go to sea and bring home monkeys and parrots and shawls to mother just as sailors always do. But I've actually got a monkey and if you don't believe it just look at these pictures of him that Mr. Travers made for me and told me to send to the YOUNG PEOPLE so that Mr. Harper would know that the monkey was genuine and unadulterated.

It was Mr. Travers that got the monkey for me. One day there came a woman with an organ and a monkey into our yard.

She was an Italian, but she could speak a sort of English and she said that the "murderin' spalpeen of a monkey was just wearing the life of her out." So says Mr. Travers "What will you take for him?" and says she, "It's five dollars I'd be after selling him for, and may good luck go wid ye!"

What did Mr. Travers do but give her the money and hand the monkey to me, saying, "Here, Jimmy! take him and be happy." Wasn't I just happy though?

Jocko--that's the monkey's name--is the loveliest monkey that ever lived. Toby Tyler may talk about his "Mr. Stubbs," and tell how he understands everything said to him, and begs for crullers, and all that; but I tell you "Mr. Stubbs" was just an ordinary illiterit monkey alongside of my Jocko. I hadn't had him an hour when he got out of my arms and was on the supper table before I could get him. The table was all set and Bridget was just going to ring the bell, but the monkey didn't wait for her.

To see him eating the chicken salad was just wonderful. He finished the whole dish in about two minutes, and was washing it down with the oil out of the salad bottle when I caught him. Mother was awfully good about it and only said, "Poor little beast he must be half starved Susan how much he reminds me of your brother." A good mother is as good a thing as a boy deserves, no matter how good he is.

The salad someway did not seem to agree with Jocko for he was dreadfully sick that night. You should have seen how limp he was, just like a girl that has fainted away and her young man is trying to lift her up. Mother doctored him. She gave him castor oil as if he was her own son, and wrapped him up in a blanket and put a mustard plaster on his stomach and soaked the end of his tail in warm water. He was all right the next day and was real grateful. I know he was grateful because he showed it by trying to do good to others, at any rate to the cat. Our cat wouldn't speak to him at first, but he coaxed her with milk, just as he had seen me do and finally caught her. It must have been dreadfully aggravoking to the cat, for instead of letting her have the milk he insisted that she was sick and must have medicine. So he took Bridget's bottle of hair-oil and a big spoon and gave the cat such a dose. When I caught him and made him let the cat go there were about six table-spoonfuls of oil missing. Mr. Travers said it was a good thing for it would improve the cat's voice and make her yowl smoother, and that he had felt for a long time that she needed to be oiled. Mother said that the monkey was cruel and it was a shame but I know that he meant to be kind. He knew the oil mother gave him had done him good, and he wanted to do the cat good. I know just how he felt, for I've been blamed many a time for trying to do good, and I can tell you it always hurt my feelings.

The monkey was in the kitchen while Bridget was getting dinner yesterday and he watched her broil the steak as if he was meaning to learn to cook and help her in her work, he's that kind and thoughtful. The cat was outdoors, but two of her kittens were in the kitchen, and they were not old enough to be afraid of the monkey. When dinner was served Bridget went up stairs and by-and-by mother says "What's that dreadful smell sure's you're alive Susan the baby has fallen in to the fire." Everybody jumped up and ran up stairs, all but me, for I knew Jocko was in the kitchen and I was afraid it was he that was burning. When I got into the kitchen there was that lovely monkey broiling one of the kittens on the gridiron just as he had seen Bridget broil the steak. The kitten's fur was singeing and she was mewing, and the other kitten was sitting up on the floor licking her chops and enjoying it and Jocko was on his hind-legs as solemn and busy as an owl. I snatched the gridiron away from him and took the kitten off before she was burned any except her fur, and when mother and Susan came down stairs they couldn't understand what it was that had been burning and guessed the cook must have put egg-shell on the fire.

This is all the monkey has done since I got him day before yesterday. Father has been away for a week but is coming back in a few days, and won't he be delighted when he finds a monkey in the house?

ATHENS, GEORGIA.

I wish to say to the correspondents who wrote to me for exchange of postmarks that I can not answer all their letters right away, as I have received so many, but I will answer them as soon as I can.

LOUIS J. BRUMBY.

In justice to Master Louis, we state that the above letter was received at our office on December 14, 1880, but owing to the crowded state of our Post-office Box, has been pushed aside until now.

A large number of our correspondents are in the same trouble as this Georgia boy. The demands upon them are so large that they can not possibly obtain a sufficient supply of postmarks, stamps, or other things to meet them all promptly, and they are in distress, fearing that they will be thought dishonorable, when they are in reality overwhelmed by the great number of demands upon their boyish resources.

The explanation of this trouble is very simple. A boy possessing a small number of stamps and postmarks, or perhaps a shelf of pretty minerals, being anxious to obtain more, sends a request for exchange to YOUNG PEOPLE. Now the subscribers to YOUNG PEOPLE number many thousands, and the number of readers can not be estimated. A great many of these also have small collections which they are anxious to enlarge. The consequence is that the boy who has offered exchange receives to his astonishment a dozen or more letters daily, many of them containing specimens for which an immediate return is expected. Now he has started out with, say, three hundred postmarks--probably not so many--as his stock in trade, and has offered a given number from the State where he lives for the same number from any other State. The demands of the first week exhaust his small store, and even with the help of his friends he can not collect fast enough to satisfy his correspondents. He can not use those he has received, even were he willing to part with them, for they are not from the State from which he has promised specimens, so he is compelled to work slowly, and appear for the time to be neglectful and remiss in keeping his promises. Could he answer every letter, and explain how matters stood, of course all would be right. But he is a school-boy, and has lessons to learn, or is otherwise employed; and even if he has leisure, no one needs to be told that to answer a large number of letters every day is an impossible performance for a boy from ten to fifteen years old, the average limits of the age of those who offer exchange in our columns.

In view of the impossibility of promptly answering all communications, the Post-office Box is often requested to publish an explanation. Whenever it is possible, we print these boyish appeals for indulgence, but they are very often crowded out.

We are sorry to see so little reason and forbearance on the part of some boys who fail to receive answers from exchanges at the time they expect. We have received numerous complaints, to all of which we pay no attention, and which we often have positive proof are wholly unjust. We assure those boys from whom we have received such communications that they do not rise in our estimation by their hasty accusations of their correspondents, of whose circumstances or character they know nothing, beyond the mere fact that their letters to them have not been immediately answered. A boy who is himself honorable will seek excuses for his delinquent correspondent, and will never accuse him of unfairness, even in his own mind, unless he has positive proof that the charge is well founded. In future, all requests for exchange, accompanied by complaints of the delinquency of other parties, will not be noticed in our columns.

Considering the length of our exchange list, these misunderstandings have been so few that they may be classed as exceptions to the general rule. The majority of our correspondents speak in the highest terms of the fairness with which exchanges have been conducted, of the valuable additions they have made to their collections, and of the pleasant friendships they have formed.

In spite of all our good advice in the matter of full and distinctly written addresses, carelessness in this respect is still the source of some annoyance. We frequently receive letters from boys and girls who are troubled because they have received some specimen which they can not even acknowledge, as the sender omitted either name or address, sometimes both. We have no space to explain all these matters, and in such cases leave it for the careless correspondent to learn by experience the troublous results of inattention.

* * * * *

YOUNG MEN'S SOCIETY FOR HOME STUDY.--A very useful society has been formed in Cambridge, Massachusetts, for the purpose of aiding boys of fifteen years and upward in systematic study. It is organized under the lead of such gentlemen as Oliver Wendell Holmes, Henry W. Longfellow, William D. Howells, Charles Dudley Warner, and others, and is designed to guide and encourage the youth of America by opening to them, by means of correspondence, systematic courses of study in various subjects. Courses of reading and plans of work are arranged, from which subscribers to the society may select one or more, according to their taste and leisure, and aid is given them from time to time through directions and advice. The courses embrace history, natural science, mathematics, and literatures of different nations, divided into sections. No subscribers are admitted under fifteen years of age. Each member pays a fee of two dollars on entering. Full particulars may be obtained by addressing the secretary, Frederic Gardiner, Jun., Cambridge, Massachusetts, to whom all communications, marked Y. M. S. on a corner of the envelope, should be sent by all who desire further information on the subject, with postage stamp inclosed for the reply.

* * * * *

CHESTNUT HILL, MASSACHUSETTS.

We report willow "pussies" found on Sunday, January 16. As this may seem incredible, we inclose a sprig of the "pussies."

J. and M.

A fresh twig covered with soft, pearly aments accompanied this letter.

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FERGUS FALLS, MINNESOTA.

For two winters my gift from a lady who never forgets me is YOUNG PEOPLE. It is the greatest pleasure I have, for I am a helpless invalid. I can not stand or take a single step, and never shall until I walk in the golden streets. I have only the partial use of my left hand. I can read, and with great effort write a little. I know so well how to pity the sick and lame children who sometimes write to the Post-office Box! I want to thank YOUNG PEOPLE for brightening so many of my weary hours. I mean to have it always.

EDDIE S.

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CINCINNATI, OHIO.

I read in YOUNG PEOPLE about "An Empty Stocking" and the Toy Mission, and I want to tell the children what we did in our Kindergarten, Christmas. Our dear teacher told us each to bring a toy or some pretty thing, and together with some other kind Kindergarten teachers she made a beautiful tree for the poor children of the free Kindergartens of Cincinnati.

I love YOUNG PEOPLE. I am seven years old now, and I am going to take it until I am a young lady.

My brother has eight rabbits, and he calls them "The Bucktoot Family."

JULIA H. D.

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MIDDLE BAR, CALIFORNIA.

My grandma has made me a present of YOUNG PEOPLE.

My mother says there were some pictures of the place where we live in HARPER'S MAGAZINE once, and of men washing gold out of the river. Chinamen get gold out of it now.

I have never been to school, but I am going when I am twelve. I am eight now, and my mother teaches me. My brothers are learning German, and sometimes they talk it to me.

KATE S.

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BALTIMORE, MARYLAND.

Here are some pretty experiments for the Chemists' Club.

_Tin Tree_.--Pour about a pint of distilled or rain water into a common decanter; put in three drams of chloride of tin, and about ten drops of nitric acid. When the chloride of tin is dissolved, suspend a piece of zinc wire in the mixture, and set the whole where it will not be disturbed. In a few hours the wire will be covered with beautiful crystals of tin precipitated from the solution. In this experiment it is wonderful to see the laminæ, or thin plates, shoot out, as it were, from nothing.

_Silver Tree_.--Put into a decanter four drams of nitrate of silver, and fill up the decanter with distilled or rain water; then drop in about an ounce of mercury, suspend a piece of zinc wire, and place the mixture where it will not be moved. In a short time the silver will be precipitated in beautiful and sparkling arborescent forms.

JOHN E. H.

These metal trees make very beautiful ornaments, and it is very interesting to watch the formations. A recipe for a lead tree was given in the Post-office Box of YOUNG PEOPLE No. 48.

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OCEAN GROVE, NEW JERSEY.

My school-teacher has started a "Boys' and Girls' Lyceum" in our school. We prepare original pieces, and answer questions, and we speak, read, sing, and play on the piano.

There is a little snow on the ground, and it is very slippery. I fell off my sled to-day, and cut my cheek.

I have lots of dolls, and my pet doll is named Louise, after my mamma. I am nine years old.

MAUDE M.

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NEW YORK CITY.

I am a little boy seven years old. I am in the First Reader. What I like to do best is to fish. I often catch twenty in one day. I can swim under water and dive. I do all these things at my grandmother's in the country.

ARTHUR D. B.

My brother Arthur and I have a boat, and we row up the river which runs in front of our house in the country. Then one of us steers the boat, while the other sits in the bow with an oar raised, and the wind and the tide carry us home. I am nine years old.

FREDDIE C. B.

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SULLIVAN, INDIANA.

We think HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE is the best paper published. Mamma gave it to my sister for a birthday present. I am five years old. I can read a little, and can print a letter. I printed this.

We have a calf named Rosie that is only a year and two months old, and weighs eight hundred and eighty-five pounds. I have a dear baby brother.

HELEN M.

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NEW YORK CITY.

I enjoy reading HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE very much, although I am fifteen years old. I am employed in a large hardware house in this city. I think we boys ought to appreciate the privilege given us in this paper of exchanging our postage stamps and postmarks. And it is a satisfaction to feel that the same paper we receive and read is also received and read by so many other boys and girls in so many different parts of our own and other countries.

J. C. L.

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PROVIDENCE, RHODE ISLAND.

I want to tell you how near I came to being run over by an engine. It was one awful cold Saturday morning, and the sidewalk on the avenue where we slide was all covered with ice. I started at the top of the hill, and went down very swiftly. At the foot of the hill there is a railroad, and on one side of it there was a big snow-bank. When I got to that snow-bank, I could not stop my sled, and I went clear over it right in front of an engine that was standing on the track. I got up and took myself and the sled out of the way in a hurry, and just then the engine started.

HORACE G. B.

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COLUMBUS, MISSISSIPPI.

I am nine years old, and I go to school. We have a class of boys, and we read in YOUNG PEOPLE instead of a reader. We read all the stories, and like them very much. We expect to have a railroad here in a few years, and street cars too.

Charles W. W.

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LINCOLN, TENNESSEE, _January_ 18, 1881.

I have received over thirty applications for Egyptian stamps, and my supply is exhausted. Applicants will please wait until I can get more stamps from my sister, who is in Egypt.

AMBROSE STRANG.

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NEWPORT, DELAWARE.

I am very much pleased with YOUNG PEOPLE. My uncle sends it to me, and also to a little girl in Brooklyn, and one in Illinois. I am eight years old. My papa reads the stories to us, and also the letters in the Post-office Box. I think all the little people would like to hear again from Judith Wolff, of Barranquilla, in the United States of Colombia.

NELLIE B. F.

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I would like to exchange foreign postage stamps and some very old United States stamps, for coins, minerals, or insects. I am twelve years old.

L. A. V. Z., 52 University Place, New York City.

* * * * *

Last Christmas my mamma presented me with a year's subscription to YOUNG PEOPLE, and I like it so much I think it would be a good plan for every little boy's mamma to do the same.

I have a few postage stamps from New Zealand, Turkey, Hong-Kong, and other localities, which I would like to exchange for others. I am ten years old.

PERCY L. MCDERMOTT, 523 Marcy Avenue, Brooklyn, L. I.

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I wish to begin a collection of birds' eggs, and will give forty stamps for four eggs, or ten stamps for one egg. I am eleven years old.

FRANK L. BREWER, 108 West Fifty-seventh Street, New York City.

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I am trying to get a collection of shells and other curiosities, but as yet I have very few things.

I would like to exchange some shells, a wild boar's tooth, and a few other curiosities, for curiosities and birds' eggs.

ALICE E. THORP, P. O. Box 618, Newport, R. I.

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The following exchanges are also offered by correspondents:

Postmarks.

SAM G. SMITH, Heckatoo, Lincoln County, Ark.

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Stamps from Sweden and Switzerland, for stamps from Germany.

ALICE V. SMITH, Holly Tree Coffee Rooms, Newport, R. I.

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A Swedish coin of 1871, for ten foreign stamps, or for the same number of the United States Treasury or Naval Departments.

JAY H. MALTBY, Detroit, Becker County, Minn.

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Postmarks, United States and foreign stamps, silver and copper coins, Indian relics, and other curiosities.

E. L. BRICE, Sunbury, Penn.

* * * * *

Postmarks, for German, French, Italian, or Spanish stamps.

B. C. G., P. O. Box 1138, Mankato, Minn.

* * * * *

Stamps, postmarks, birds' eggs, or minerals, for sea-shells, Florida moss, or any curiosity from the South or far West.

JEAN C. PORTER, Warren, Trumbull County, Ohio.

* * * * *

Minerals.

JOHNNIE SEELEY, Potsdam, St. Lawrence County, N. Y.

* * * * *

Indian arrow-heads, for coins.

CHARLES F. JENKINS, West Chester, Chester County, Penn.

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Foreign stamps, for Indian arrow-heads or birds' eggs.

HOWARD G. CHASE, 19 Woodland Terrace, West Philadelphia, Penn.

* * * * *

One hundred stamps from Brazil, Spain, Australia, and other foreign countries, for fifteen coins.

HOWARD J. VAN DOREN, 89 State Street, Brooklyn, L. I.

* * * * *

Foreign, United States, and internal revenue stamps, postmarks, and United States and foreign coins, for birds' eggs, minerals, or coins.

WILLARD BARNES, Wellsville, Allegany County, N. Y.

* * * * *

Twenty-five postmarks, for four birds' eggs.

CLAUDE N. COMSTOCK, Albany, Gentry County, Mo.

* * * * *

A rock from Missouri, for one from any other State except Colorado.

HARRY LEE, Warrensburg, Johnson County, Mo.

* * * * *

Postmarks.

FRANK H. PAYNE, P. O. Box C, Titusville, Penn.

* * * * *

Rare birds' eggs, for others.

EDDY LOOMIS, P. O. Box 191, Geneva, N. Y.

* * * * *

Stamps, for Indian arrow-heads or other relics, old coins, ocean curiosities, or South American stamps. Twenty foreign stamps, for a good specimen of gold ore.

R. H. REDDISH, 98 Court Street, Brooklyn, L. I.

* * * * *

Postmarks.

CHARLES H. DAILEY, Dayton, Campbell County, Ky.

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Curious rocks from Indiana, for Indian arrow-heads or sea-shells.

CLARENCE MARSHALL, Economy, Wayne County, Ind.

* * * * *

Patterns for knitted lace.

HELEN A. SEARING, Saugerties, Ulster County, N. Y.

* * * * *

Postmarks.

ADOLPH VALOIS, 267 First Street, Jersey City, N. J.

* * * * *

Rock from Italy, for European postage stamps.

A. J. DENT, Care of J. E. Dent, Columbia, S. C.

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Calcite, dog-tooth-spar, amygdaloid, and Roxbury pudding-stone, for other minerals. Specimens from Nova Scotia especially desired.

CHARLES GARRISON, 32 Linwood Street, Roxbury, Mass.

* * * * *

Foreign postage stamps, for birds' eggs, Indian relics, ocean curiosities, or minerals.

JENNIE DENISON, Bay City, Mich.

* * * * *

Stamps and monograms, for birds' eggs.

CHARLES G. CARTER, P. O. Box 1167, Titusville, Penn.

* * * * *

Postmarks, for United States and foreign postage stamps.

CHARLES J. LIVINGOOD, P. O. Box 200, Reading, Penn.

* * * * *

Postage stamps.

HARRY F. SINCLAIR, 109 East Seventy-ninth Street, New York city.

* * * * *

C. N. C.--The specimen you send is a postmark. For purposes of exchange it is better to cut the postmark square, as it is more easily pasted in an album in the manner described in an article on "Stamp Collecting" in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 54, which has been applied by many of our readers to postmarks as well.

* * * * *

We have been requested to bring to the notice of those correspondents who may write to Judith Wolff, of Barranquilla, that they can not receive answers to their letters sooner than six or eight weeks.

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"ELECTRICITY."--"The Brave Swiss Boy" has not been published in book form. The entire story, however, is contained in the first nine numbers of YOUNG PEOPLE, Vol. I.

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VIRGIE MCL.--We are very sorry to disappoint you, but our Post-office Box is so crowded that we can not give up space to your poem. Neither can we print your offer of exchange, for reasons which were given in the introductory paragraph to the Post-office Box of YOUNG PEOPLE No. 45.

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NELLIE A. B.--See answer to William D. in the Post-office Box of No. 64.

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NEW SUBSCRIBER.--The article you inquire about is entitled "A Cheap Canoe," and is contained in No. 26, page 350, of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, Vol. I.

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A. C.--The price of the cover for HARPER'S MAGAZINE is fifty cents.

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OTIS S.--We can not give the description you desire.

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C. P. J.--It is now so late in the season that the information you ask for will not be given in YOUNG PEOPLE until next winter.

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SCHOOL-BOY.--Ferdinand De Soto, who discovered the Mississippi River, was born in Estremadura, Spain, about 1495. He came to America when very young, and was one of the most daring companions of Pizarro in the conquest of Peru. In 1538 he attempted the conquest of Florida, believing that he should find heaps of gold there, instead of which he and his men had a very sad time, and after many misfortunes, gave up their fruitless search. De Soto died on the banks of the Mississippi in 1542, and his companions, wishing to conceal his death from the Indians, sunk his body by night in the middle of the river.

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JULIE J. B.--Juggernaut, the holy city of the Hindoos, is situated on the Bay of Bengal. Its main street is composed of temples and other religious edifices, and at the southern end is an immense structure, said to have been built during the twelfth century, which is dedicated to the idol Juggernaut--a word signifying "lord of the world." This idol has an enormous chariot forty-five feet high, and mounted on sixteen wheels, and during the great festival, which occurs in March, it is taken from the temple, and being placed on the chariot, is dragged about the streets by the thousands of pilgrims who come from all parts of India to this yearly celebration. So terrible are the ignorance and superstition of these idol-worshippers that, until prevented by the British authorities, hundreds threw themselves beneath the wheels of this enormous car during its passage through the city, and were crushed to death. Even mothers would throw their infants to be killed in this horrible manner, thinking in this way to secure for them eternal happiness and favor in the eyes of the hideous idol. Although this absurd worship is still carried on to a large extent, the sacrifice of victims is no longer possible.

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WILLIE PARKHURST.--"How to Build an Ice-Boat" was published in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 56.

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FRED B. AND FRED W.--A set of Dallemeyer lenses, even of the smallest size, is somewhat expensive. You can get good portrait lenses from eight dollars a set to a very high price. There are other and cheaper kinds which would, no doubt, answer your purpose. The best thing for you to do is to go to some large dealer in photographic instruments, and get a list of styles and prices of lenses and materials.--"The Moral Pirates" began in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 31, and was concluded in No. 45.

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Favors are acknowledged from Freddie L. Foster, Kirk Haddock, E. H. Brown, Mary L. Shober, Maggie A. E., Ettie C. I., Lee M. Hopper, Maud P. Abbott, John Demarest, Mamie Valentine, William G. Moore, B. F. Corey, Minnie C. M., Bessie W., Maud C., Samuel K. B., B. T. H., L. Jay E., Martie W. H., Willie C. C., Lewis H., Pickey and Quinea Francis, Marion Ellis, Irene McM., Willie Lloyd, "Starlight," Ned Beck, Ina H. Bartlett, Josephine Beekman, Mertie W. L., Gertrude G., Jimmie Canfield, Stella L. Paine, Aseneth Michener, Mary Lawrence, David Baker Rushmore, A. G. D., Willie C. Whetton, Mary L. McCullock.

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Correct answers to puzzles have been received from Roe Stewart, Howard B. Lent, Eddie and Willie Kendel, Louise Smith, Bessie Winans, G. J. Broome, Jun., Charles Gaylor, E. J. W., Carrie M. Pike, "Starry Flag," Isobel and Harry Jacobs, E. E. Harris, Daisy Mitchell, Allie Maxwell, Andrew C. De Motte, Charlie Haight.

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PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

ENIGMA.

In frequent, not in oft. In liquid, not in soft. In laugh, not in scream. In vision, not in dream. In channel, not in strait. In door, not in gate. In poach, not in plunder. In stumble, not in blunder. In pliant, not in tough. In coarse, not in rough. In cycle, not in year. My whole a season drawing near.

DAME DURDEN.

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No. 2.

RHOMBOID.

Across.--A cut. A germ. To rip. To pull. In the body.

Down.--A letter from Washington. In the same manner. Regular. To notice. To venture. A fish. A pronoun. Another letter from Washington.

WALTER.

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No. 3.

DIAMOND.

In ride. A character in music. Parts of the body. Suspended. To loose. A Latin numeral. In ride.

MARK MARCY.

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No. 4.

EASY SQUARES.

1. First, a musical instrument. Second, a tree found in the East Indies. Third, a bog. Fourth, a town in Upper Egypt.

JOHNNIE.

2. First, prospect. Second, inactive. Third, a girl's name. Fourth, feeble.

T. K. P.

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No. 5.

ENIGMA.

In bold, not in shy. In run, not in fly. In tongue, not in head. In white, not in red. In shore, not in land. In arm, not in hand. In fire, not in water. In lime, not in mortar. In type, not in feature. My whole a short-lived creature.

JOHN N. H.

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ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 64.

No. 1.

P R K E G J O T P E N N Y - R O Y A L G N U T A G Y L

No. 2.

P R A T E H A B I T R I P E N A B O D E A P A R T B O H E A T E R S E I D E A L E N T E R T E A L S

H I G H C R A B I D L E R O B E G L E E A B E L H E E D B E L T

No. 3.

Potash.

No. 4.

Kentucky.

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Charade, on page 192--Crowbar.

HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE.

SINGLE COPIES, 4 cents; ONE SUBSCRIPTION, one year, $1.50; FIVE SUBSCRIPTIONS, one year, $7.00--_payable in advance, postage free_.

The Volumes of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE commence with the first Number in November of each year.

Subscriptions may begin with any Number. When no time is specified, it will be understood that the subscriber desires to commence with the Number issued after the receipt of the order.

Remittances should be made by POST-OFFICE MONEY-ORDER OR DRAFT, to avoid risk of loss.

HARPER & BROTHERS, Franklin Square, N. Y.

SOLUTION TO TUMBLER TRICK.

Interlock the prongs of two forks as represented in the engraving; then firmly wedge the match between one of the lower prongs and the fork above it, and you will find you can easily balance the match in the desired position, and also drink the water.

PREDICAMENTS.

BY G. B. BARTLETT.

This funny game comes from our German cousins, who know how to have a good time, in spite of their gravity. In the evening they like to join with their children in merry games around the cheerful lamp and by the flashing fire, and it is from them that the ideas, or turning points, of many of our best games come. This one will be found easy enough for the little ones, and amusing enough for their parents and older friends.

Any number of people can play. All sit around the room, and each one whispers to his right-hand neighbor some situation in the form of a question; for example, "What would you do if your manuscript was left at your home, forty miles away, and you had not discovered the fact until you had arisen to lecture?" Or any imaginary predicament may be suggested; as, "What if you were driving a load of ashes over a steep hill, and found that you had forgotten to put up the backboard of the cart?" These questions may also touch upon sentiment; as follows, "If you were talking sentimentally to a young lady in the woods, what if the bank on which you were seated proved to be previously occupied by a red ants' nest?"

These situations must be as quaint, funny, and varied as possible; and when one has been whispered to each person, all communicate in the same manner, to the one on the left, some remedy, which, as well as the question, must be remembered. These may be of a healing nature, like Russia salve, soothing syrup, poor man's plaster; or serious, like a gunshot, a halter, or an elopement; and when recited, are prefixed with the words, "I should try," or some appropriate beginning.

When all are provided with a situation and a remedy, the game is begun by some one, who calls upon a lady or gentleman by name, and then asks, "What would you do if--" and adds the predicament which has been given to the speaker. The person addressed then replies, "I should try--" and gives the remedy which has been whispered to him.

The combination seldom fails to prove very amusing, either from the exceedingly apt or the eccentric nature of the dialogue. The player who gave the remedy proceeds at once to call out another name, the gentlemen usually naming a lady, and the ladies a gentleman, and thus the game goes merrily on. In order to make it perfectly clear to the children, it may be well to give a few connected questions and answers:

"Mr. Smith, what would you do if you were up in a balloon, and should break your head against the tail of a comet?"

"I should buy a cabbage."--"Miss Johnson, if you were dancing the heel-and-toe polka, and should fall in the middle of the ball-room, what would you do?"

"I should preserve my equilibrium."--"Mr. Roberts, if your heart were broken, what would you do?"

"Bind her over to keep the peace."--"Miss Lewis, what would you do if you were compelled to use the same glass as a beggar?"

"I should say, 'Drink to me only with thine eyes.'"--"Mr. Brown, what if you failed to make an impression?"

"I should try indelible ink."

A CHARADE.

BY H.

My first may grace the festive board With rosy colors bright, And from the pantry's spicy hoard 'Tis often brought to light.

But shared beside the mountain stream, Or by old ocean's swell, Where many happy lovers dream, Its value who can tell?

My second is what you, I hope, Will never do to me; But lest you should, your Bible ope, And there your fate you'll see.

But in my whole what happy hours, What moments rare, are spent, Kissed by the breeze to which the flowers Their savors sweet have lent!

Through fairy-land, unknowing care, The spirit wanders free, While birds with music fill the air-- Oh, give my whole to me!

End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Young People, February 8, 1881, by Various