Part 3

Going home that night Johnnie bought an orange and a picture for his friend. He endeavored to be more than usually cheerful in his manner that evening. Pat was trying too, but it was such a faint smile that he gave that Johnnie had hard work to keep back the tears.

"But I did," he triumphantly said to his aunt. "I never mean to make Pat feel badly any more if I can help it. Oh, auntie"--this very eagerly--"may I let Pat take my money and go to school? I can wait a little longer, and Pat will help me in the evenings."

His aunt touched his sunshiny head tenderly. "You know best, my dear boy. It is your money. Use it to satisfy your own heart."

It was some time before Pat was well again, but after the first few days' struggle he never murmured. He seemed to accept and make the best of his circumstances. Every evening Johnnie remembered to bring him some token of his love--a banana, a paper, a bunch of gay flowers, or a box of bonbons; for his money was now all for Pat--his dear helpless Pat.

At last the eventful day arrived when Pat was to be up and dressed. Johnnie started home with more than usual speed, eager to see and congratulate him.

He had frequently noticed boys playing near and on a small tank used for mixing paint. They used to stir this, and inhale the fumes, which gave them a kind of half-dizzy but pleasant kind of feeling. It was rather a dangerous play, and Johnnie usually coaxed the boys away, and endeavored to persuade them not to return. As he was passing the tank this evening he saw two little boys leaning over it, and just at that moment one of them fell face downward into the tank; the other little boy sank down upon the steps, too much stupefied to render any assistance. Dropping his pail, Johnnie sprang up the steps, and into the tank. There was only a small quantity of liquid in it, but quite enough to cover the unconscious boy. Johnnie lifted him up, and called loudly for help. It soon came, for there were others who had seen the boy fall, though too far away to render the assistance that Johnnie did. For some time it was feared that the little victim would not revive.

After a while, however, they had the satisfaction of seeing him open his eyes. Johnnie wanted to go home now; he knew that his aunt and Pat were anxiously awaiting him. He was deliberating what to do, when a carriage drove up, and a lady and gentleman hurriedly alighting, came up to the still half-unconscious child. Johnnie heard one child cry, "Mamma!" and saw the look of glad recognition light up the face of the other, and then he was off with all speed for home. As he approached the house he saw his aunt, and--yes, it was, it was--Pat standing in the doorway, looking anxiously toward the factory. He waved his hat, and hastened forward yet faster, stopping at the gate quite out of breath from excitement, but looking so happy and smiling that their fears were calmed at once.

"Oh, I am so glad to see you, Pat! Don't touch me, auntie dear; I am all over paint and benzine. Just wait until I change my clothes and I will tell you all about it," he said, as he disappeared upstairs.

But the great surprise and pleasure came the next day. Johnnie had gone to work as usual, and was not expected home until evening. About noon, however, he entered the kitchen where his aunt was working.

"Come, aunt, into the room where Pat is. I have something nice to tell you."

But when there he could say nothing. He just put in her hand a crisp check for two hundred dollars.

"Oh. Johnnie! now you can go to school too," shouted the delighted Pat.

"What does it mean, dear?" asked his aunt, gazing in wonder at the check, at Johnnie, and then at the check again.

"The manager gave it to me this morning. It was his little boy who fell into the tank yesterday. He had heard about my wanting to go to school, and about Pat, so he gave me this. Oh, dear auntie! do you suppose anybody was ever so happy as I am? Here is the manager's carriage too. I am to have a half-holiday, and take you both out riding. Come, we will have some dinner, and then go down the deep hollow road."

HOW TO LAY OUT LAWN TENNIS COURTS.

BY SHERWOOD RYSE.

In an article on lawn tennis published in YOUNG PEOPLE last summer we pointed out how the game might be indulged in with a very small outlay of money--how some of the implements, indeed, might be of home manufacture and yet be serviceable. Accordingly we were obliged to limit the court to a size which the net supplied with cheap tennis sets would admit. As the game has now become so popular that it is likely to be, if it is not already, the game of games, we will take our readers a little further, and show them how to lay out a full-sized court both for single and double games.

As the double court measures 78 feet by 36, the lawn should be not less than 100 feet by 50, and the court should be laid out as in the accompanying diagram.

First, stake out the base line, E to F, 36 feet, with your string. Then carry it along the line F to D, 78 feet, and in the same manner make the line E to C, 78 feet. Then connect C, D, and if your figure is a parallelogram, this last line should be the same length as E to F, namely, 36 feet.

The whole area of the two courts is now marked out. Next for the divisions.

The single courts are of the same length as the double, but only 27 feet wide, that is 9 feet less than the double. Mark out, therefore, the positions of G and H, which will be 4-1/2 feet from E and F respectively; and in the same manner, and at the same distances from the side lines, mark the positions of J and K. Then extend your string from G to J, and from H to K.

Now for the net, which is shown by the broad line A to B, extended three feet on each side of the boundary of the court. From the net line measure 21 feet to N, O, P, Q respectively, and join N and O, P and Q. These last lines are 27 feet long: divide them in half, so that the distance from N to L, for instance, is 13-1/2 feet, and mark the line L to M.

You will think, and rightly, that if you are to stake all these lines at the same time with string, you will require several hundred feet of string; but this is not necessary. Cut sixteen stakes about six inches long, sharpened at one end and broad at the other, so that they can be easily driven into the ground and yet not easily be trodden out of sight. As you measure off each point you will drive a stake to mark it; thus you will need as many stakes as there are letters in the diagram.

As the court on the one side of the net is exactly similar to that on the other, if you grow tired of measuring and driving stakes, you may mark the lines of the one court before completing the laying out of the other. This you must do with "whitening" and a brush not less than two inches wide. Each line that is to be marked must be shown by a string stretched over it as a guide: otherwise the lines will be far from straight. As each line is finished, the string is taken up and used to guide the marking of the next line. Care should be taken to mark all the lines equally distinct, and to renew them as they get worn out.

Here is a handy table of distances from point to point in the diagram.

Double court { Base line E to F = 36 feet. { Side line F to D = 78 feet. { Side line E to C = 78 feet. { Base line C to D = 36 feet.

Single court { Base line G to H = 27 feet. { Base line J to K = 27 feet. { Side line G to J = 78 feet. { Side line H to K = 78 feet.

Service court { Net to service lines = 21 feet. { Central line, L to M = 42 feet.

Between net posts A to B = 42 feet.

PARSEE MERCHANTS OF BOMBAY.

BY THOMAS W. KNOX.

Among all the races and religions of India there are none more curious than the Parsees. They are sometimes called Fire-Worshippers, on account of their reverence for the sun, and consequently of the fire that comes from it. The founder of their religion was Zoroaster, who was supposed to have brought fire from heaven, and placed it on their altars, and to this day it is kept burning in their temples.

The Parsees belonged originally in Persia, and were persecuted by the Saracens more than a thousand years ago, so that many of them embraced the Mohammedan religion. The few that clung to the worship of the sun were driven into the most barren parts of the country, or compelled to leave it altogether. Many settled in the province of Guzerat in Hindostan, bringing the sacred fire with them. They were again persecuted by the Mohammedans, but for the last two hundred years have enjoyed religious freedom.

It is thought that there are about two hundred thousand of them now in India. In Bombay alone there are seventy thousand Parsees, and the rest are principally in Guzerat and along the western coast. They are intelligent and enterprising, pay great attention to the education of their children, give liberally to all public charities, and their merchants are considered the shrewdest business men in the world. More than three-fourths of the business of Bombay is in their control, and for this reason the place is often called "the City of the Parsees."

The cotton market of Bombay is an excellent place in which to study these strange people, and in the height of the season it is often crowded with them. They go among the bales and bags of cotton examining the fibre, and talking busily with each other in their efforts to buy or sell. When making a bargain they are rarely in a hurry, and it is not an unusual sight to see a couple of them seated on a bale of cotton, each with a sample in his hands, arguing with great earnestness over a difference of a few cents on a transaction amounting to thousands of dollars. From the closeness of their bargains they are sometimes called "the Jews of the East." It has been said that the Israelites of Europe can not compete successfully with the Parsees in matters of trade.

These people adhere to the dress of their ancestors. Their ordinary costume consists of a white frock falling below the knee, over trousers of the same material, and for head-coverings they wear a curiously shaped hat of spotted muslin, without a brim. Their priests wear a hat of the same shape, but of pure white, the rest of their dress being similar to that of the ordinary Parsee. They take care of their poor so thoroughly that a Parsee beggar is never seen. The men rarely accompany their wives in public, and very few Europeans have ever seen the inside of a Parsee house, so as to learn the domestic life of the family. Parsee boys and girls are frequently very handsome, but their beauty fades while they are yet young. Their parents are very fond of them, and a father will often deny himself many things in order to spend freely on the education or amusement of his children.

Notwithstanding their habit of driving close bargains, the Parsee merchants have a high reputation for honesty. They may be a long time closing a transaction, but when the word has been given, they adhere closely to their agreements. The wealthiest men of Bombay are among the Parsees, and they are as noted for their charities as for their great fortunes. One of these merchants, who had gained an enormous fortune in trade with China, devoted the closing years of his life to works of charity. He connected the island of Bombay with the mainland by a causeway at his own expense, he built and endowed two hospitals, and he gave a large amount of money for the relief of British soldiers during the Crimean war. The Queen conferred on him the honor of knighthood, and afterward made him a baronet. Since his death his son has inherited not only the title but the charities of his father.

The Parsees do not bury or burn their dead like the Hindoos and Mohammedans around them, but expose the bodies to be eaten by birds. One of their most prominent merchants explained this custom as follows:

"We consider fire sacred, and would not use it for burning the dead, as the Hindoos do, or for any other ignoble office. The earth is the mother of mankind, and the producer of the fruits and other things on which we live, and the burial of the dead would be a defilement and an injury. Cemeteries are everywhere considered unhealthy, and our mode of sepulture is open to none of the objections that are made to cremation or burial."

The Parsees are not by any means confined to Bombay and its vicinity; there are several Parsee houses in Calcutta, Madras, and other cities of India, and they can also be found in Hong-Kong, Shanghai, Yokohama, and other cities of Asia. Some of the Bombay houses have branches in London, and a few in New York and San Francisco, and year by year their business is spreading throughout the world. Twelve hundred years ago they numbered but a few thousand refugees; now they have become an influential people, respecting the religions of others, but clinging tenaciously to their own. The sacred fire burns in their temples, as it has burned for centuries, and from present indications it will continue to glow for many centuries to come.

A CHERRY-TREE LESSON.

BY S. S. CONANT.

A naughty little city boy was taken to a farm, To spend the summer holidays, away from heat and harm; Where he could roll upon the grass, or chase the little chicks, Or tease the piggies in the pen by poking them with sticks.

To pull the peacock's feathers out to him was lots of fun; The geese stretched out their necks and hissed, and made him turn and run; He didn't dare to plague the dog, for fear that he would bite; But he was in all sorts of scrapes from morning until night.

One day he climbed a cherry-tree that in the garden grew, Because it was the very thing he'd been told not to do; The cherries they were red and ripe, and tasted very sweet-- That naughty boy he swallowed them as fast as he could eat.

But when he'd eaten all he could, and scrambled down again, He sat upon the ground, and soon began to scream with pain; And when at last the doctor came he very grimly said, "Give him a dose of castor-oil, and put him right to bed."

"It isn't nice," said his mamma, "to lie in bed all day; I hope 'twill be a lesson, Tom, and teach you to obey." Tom promised solemnly no more that cherry-tree to climb; And his mamma was very sure he meant it--at the time.

A CHEAP CANOE.

So many lads have written to Our Post-office Box asking for advice and information as to how to build a cheap canoe, that Messrs. Harper & Brothers have just reprinted in a circular the article on this subject which appeared in HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE April 27, 1880. Messrs. Harper & Brothers will mail the circular and working plans to any address on receipt of a three-cent postage stamp.

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WARM WEATHER.--Why, of course, dears. But we need the sunshine to ripen the corn, and make the apples round and red, and paint the yellow pears, and kiss the green grapes until they grow large and purple. Let me tell you a secret. It isn't worth while to fan, and fan, and keep saying "Oh, dear! I wish a breeze would come! When will this heat be over?" Neither is it a good plan to drink a great deal of ice-water. The more you drink, the more you will want. Try to forget the heat, and get some pleasant thing to do, sitting in the coolest place you can find. Paint a picture, draw some Wiggles, make a puzzle for HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, or write a letter to Our Post-office Box; help auntie dust the parlor, gather flowers to fill the vases, read an interesting book, arrange your specimens or stamps, or tell a story to please your little sister. If you do something that you like to do, or that will make others happy, the warm day will be gone before you know it.

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FORT BAYARD, NEW MEXICO.

I am a little boy eight years old. I have taken YOUNG PEOPLE for over a year. I like New Mexico very much. I have a little burro (that is Mexican for donkey) that I ride or drive. My father has three deer-hounds and one stag-hound. One of the deer-hounds is mine; I call him Thor. The names of the rest of the hounds are Hilda, Maida, and Jarl; Jarl is the stag-hound. Day before yesterday Hilda was hooked by a cow, Thor had a cut in his foot, and Jarl had a sliver in his leg two inches long. When Jarl was a puppy, he had a bad fall from a railroad trestle. Papa was going to shoot him, but one of the soldiers said, "Don't shoot, sir; he is all right." We have a pointer called Roy. I have been to the Santa Rita copper mines, and have seen the stamps that they crush the ore with. I take German lessons from the librarian of the Twenty-third Infantry. My mother has twelve hens--two sitting, and two with little chickens. I have nothing more to tell about now, but I will write again. I liked "Toby Tyler" and "Tim and Tip," and I like "Mr. Stubbs's Brother" very much; and oh, I liked "Scrap" so much! and "The Boys' Tea Party" was splendid. I would like to send my love to the Postmistress.

W. SWIFT M.

The Postmistress sends you hers in return.

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GLASSBOROUGH.

I have begun to make a collection of curiosities, and have three butterflies, one moth, a hornets' nest, and two birds' nests; in them are three eggs. My only pet is a kitten named Bunthorne, but I am lamenting the loss of a horned toad from Mexico. It refused to eat, and after three months of captivity it quietly died. They are called by the Mexicans _el taurusita del Vergita_, meaning the little bull of the little Virgin.

P.S.--Will you tell me the difference between a maiden and a spinster?

H. S. W.

What a pity about the poor toad! Perhaps he pined for home.

Any unmarried woman is a maiden. A spinster is a person who spins. In olden times the young ladies of the family used to spin and weave the household linen, and so they were called spinsters. Really a maiden and a spinster are the same.

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GALLIPOLIS, OHIO.

I am a little girl twelve years old. I have been taking HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE two years, and like it very much. I have been afflicted for years, and have to walk on crutches. I have two sisters, who are away at school; a week more and they will be at home, and I will be happy. I have a canary-bird; his name is Pedro. The bottom of his cage dropped out, and he flew away, and was gone a day and night; a boy caught him, and brought him back to me. I have a tortoise-shell cat and kitten. The old cat is named Spot, and the kitten Hot. I will exchange twelve foreign and United States stamps for the same number of gilt cards or glass buttons. I have a button string of over a thousand glass buttons; I have also six hundred cards.

MARY V. COX.

Although you have to walk on crutches, you have happy times, I am sure, for a contented heart triumphs over all difficulties.

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SHERBURNE FOUR CORNERS, NEW YORK.

I am a girl twelve years old, and am not very large for my age. I have five sisters and one brother. Two of my sisters are married, and each has a little boy. The oldest boy is four years old, and the youngest is not two weeks old yet. My birthday was last May, on Decoration-day. I am collecting cards, and now have 370. We have four horses and two colts; and I have a very nice cat.

FANNIE A. H.

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A very little girl with a very big hat, And a dear little boy with a pail, They were going to the beach to play in the sand, And then off with papa for a sail.

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LITTLE CONFECTIONERS.--Several little girls have asked me to give them some receipts for making chocolate caramels and other candies. I hope they will remember that in candy-making, as in other cooking, it is necessary to be very exact in measuring the different ingredients; neither sugar nor flavoring can be left to chance. And the little cook must keep a sharp eye on her fire, and watch her pan and its contents, so as to remove them at just the right moment. Sugar must be made into a syrup by adding water to it, and boiling it until it is smooth and thick. It is then called clarified sugar.

_Chocolate Caramels_.--Dissolve four ounces of chocolate in as little water as possible, and add it to one pound of clarified sugar, stirring it for a few minutes before taking it off. If you wish a richer caramel mixture, then take half a pound of chocolate, two cups of sugar, half a cup of milk, and a small lump of butter. Scrape the chocolate in the milk, add it to the boiled sugar, and stir in the butter. When your caramels are done pour them into a flat pan or a sheet of tin which you have oiled or buttered, so that they will not stick fast to it. When cool enough to be dented with the finger, cut the caramels into the shape you desire with a knife. If you do not eat your caramels on the day they are made, keep them in a tightly closed jar.

Everton taffy is a favorite with children. It is made in this way:

_Everton Taffy_.--Melt three ounces of butter in a brass skillet, and add one pound of brown sugar; boil the mixture over a clear fire until the syrup, when dropped into cold water, breaks between the teeth without sticking to them. Pour it into pans which have been rubbed with buttered paper, and set it away to cool. If you wish, you may add the grated rind of a lemon when the sugar is half done.

_Plain Taffy_.--Boil a quart of molasses slowly for half an hour over not too fierce a fire, stirring it constantly. Add to it half a tea-spoonful of bicarbonate of soda (baking-soda). Try the candy by dropping a spoonful in cold water. If brittle, it is done.

You may, if you wish, make molasses candy very white by pulling it in your hands, first flouring them or buttering them, so that the candy will not stick fast to your fingers.

Now, dear little housekeepers, although I have given you these receipts, I do not advise you to spend a great deal of time in candy-making in midsummer. I would rather hear that you had been riding on the hay, or gathering apples, fishing with your brothers, or going over the hills for blackberries. But if you do make candy, be sure to write me word whether or not it turns out finely and tastes good.

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WEATHERFORD, TEXAS.