Chapter 2

"North African pirates are out on the Mediterranean Sea; our budding commerce there is in danger; we _must_ have a navy to protect it," wrote a distinguished American in Europe to Alexander Hamilton. President Washington called the attention of Congress to the matter, and in the spring of 1794 he was authorized to have six frigates built, each carrying not less than thirty-two cannon. The keel of the _Constitution_ (yet afloat) was soon laid at Boston, and so the creation of the Navy of the United States was begun.

To the heroes of the Continental Navy the people looked for commanders of the new frigates, and Barry, Nicholson, Talbot, Barney, Dale, and Truxton, all of whom had done gallant service in the war for independence, were chosen.

The building of the frigates was unwisely suspended in the fall of 1795. "Pay me so many hundred thousand dollars every year, and I will let your ships alone," said the piratical ruler of Algiers. The terms were agreed to. Congress seemed to think that now all danger to commerce was overpast, and a navy would be an extravagant toy. But when, not long afterward, French cruisers seized American ships, and English cruisers claimed the right (and exercised it) to take seamen from our vessels without leave, Congress perceived the folly of their humiliating action.

War with France was threatened in the spring of 1798. The startled Congress ordered the six frigates to be finished, and more to be built or purchased. A Navy Department was organized, and a Secretary of the Navy appointed. Recruits were called for. The navy became very popular, and the ships were soon filled, with the sons of the best families in the land holding the rank of midshipmen.

The first vessel of the new navy that went to sea was the _Ganges_, twenty-four guns. She was to protect the ports of New York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore against French cruisers. Toward midsummer (1798), Congress authorized the seizure of French armed vessels found prowling along our coasts. For this purpose Truxton, with the _Constellation_, and Decatur the elder, with the _Delaware_, immediately went to sea. Decatur soon returned with the French cruiser _Le Croyable_ as a prize. She was added to the navy, named _Retaliation_, and put under the command of Lieutenant Bainbridge. Captain Barry, with the frigate _United States_, soon followed, with many young men who afterward became distinguished in their country's service. Before the end of the year nearly the whole American navy was among the West India Islands, engaged in convoying merchantmen to and from the United States. This sudden appearance on the sea of a new naval power astonished the English and the French, and made both more cautious.

Early in 1799, Truxton, with the _Constellation_, captured the famous French frigate _L'Insurgente_, near the island of Nevis, after a severe battle for an hour. This triumph made Truxton famous. His praises were on every lip. A song called "Truxton's Victory" was sung everywhere in public and private. A year later his fame was increased by his combat with another French frigate, which he had searched for among the islands of the West Indies. Off Guadeloupe he fell in with a large French vessel at twilight, and they fought desperately in the darkness that followed. Suddenly the stranger disappeared in the gloom of night. Some time afterward Truxton learned that the ship was the very one he was searching for--the frigate _La Vengeance_; that he had shattered her terribly; and that she ran away in the darkness to a friendly port to save her life.

These victories made the navy very popular. Truxton was the hero of this war with the French on the ocean. It soon ceased, and the little navy found ample employment in the Mediterranean.

In the year 1800 Bainbridge was sent, in command of the _George Washington_, to pay tribute to the Algerine ruler. The Dey, as he was called, commanded the Captain to take an Ambassador to Constantinople. Bainbridge refused. "You pay me tribute, and are my slave," said the haughty Dey; "you must do as I bid you;" and he pointed to the guns of the castle. The Captain was compelled to obey. The Sultan received him kindly, for the crescent moon on the Turkish banner, and the stars on the American flag, seemed to prophesy good-will between the two nations. He gave Bainbridge an order that made the insolent Dey tremble. With it in his hand, the Captain said to the turbaned ruler, "Release every Christian captive you have, without ransom." The astonished and humbled Dey obeyed, and Bainbridge sailed away with threescore liberated captives under the American flag.

Meanwhile the rulers of Tunis and Tripoli--other North African robbers--had exacted and received tribute from the United States. The treatment of Bainbridge made the latter resolve to pay tribute no longer, but to humble the piratical powers. In the spring of 1801 Commodore Dale was sent with a squadron on that errand. He captured a Tripolitan pirate ship, and appeared before Tunis, where the flag-staff before the house of the American Consul had been cut down. Dale threatened the ruler with chastisement. He was astonished and perplexed. Dale cruised in the Mediterranean until fall, effectually protecting American commerce, for the half-barbarian powers were made timid and cautious.

The following year a relief squadron was sent to the Mediterranean under Commodore Morris. The _Constellation_ blockaded the harbor of Tripoli. A flotilla of Tripolitan gun-boats tried to drive her away, but failed. At one time the _Constellation_ successfully fought seventeen of them, as well as troops of cavalry on shore. The other vessels of the squadron cruised along the northern shores of the Mediterranean, effectually protecting American commerce; and in January, 1803, all the vessels collected at Malta. In the spring they appeared off the ports of the Barbary States, as these African provinces were called, and effectually imprisoned their corsairs, or pirate ships, in their harbors. In May the _John Adams_, which had been blockading the harbor of Tunis, had a severe combat with Tunisian gun-boats and land batteries, and was much bruised. Very soon Tripolitan and Algerine corsairs appeared, and the whole American squadron was compelled to abandon the blockade of the African ports, after they had destroyed a cruiser from Tripoli. The squadron left the coast, the Africans regained their spirits, and very soon American commerce was again suffering from the depredations of corsairs.

The government of the United States, annoyed by the failure of this naval campaign in the Mediterranean, resolved to act with more vigor in that direction. A squadron of seven vessels was placed under the command of Commodore Preble, and sent to the Mediterranean in 1803.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

THE STORY OF THE DAISIES.

BY MRS. MARGARET EYTINGE.

Daisies, golden-hearted, star-like, smiling daisies, all over the fields and meadows, all along the highways and by-ways--bonny wee flowers looking bravely up at the dazzling sun, and giving with child-like generosity their beauty to the loneliest spots and most desolate places. Close up to a fence that surrounded a garden where bloomed hundreds of rare and lovely blossoms they crowded, praising with sweet artlessness the grace and fragrance of their more precious sisters, and wondering every morning when the gardener came out at early dawn and collected many young plants together, and gathered roses, and pansies, and gladioles, and verbenas, and pinks, and other flowers by the basketful, to carry away, where he took them and what became of them.

"I will tell you," said a tall, graceful white lily that grew near the garden gate, one day, as she inclined her fair head toward them. "I have been where they are going--I and the tuberoses over yonder. (We are growing in pots sunk in the ground, and therefore can be taken up and moved from place to place without harm.) Once I helped deck a large, sunshiny room--I was a very young bud then--where a great many little children, looking like flowers themselves in their gay dresses, sang, and played, and laughed, and danced for joy, because a baby friend was three years old that day; and once I stood at the right hand of a gray-haired minister, in a crowded church, and heard him say, 'Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.' But, dear, simple, wee things, you don't understand that, do you? I forgot to whom I was talking. They go to a large city, where nothing is seen but brick and stone buildings and hosts of people, and nothing is heard but the sound of voices and footsteps, and the ringing of bells, and the tramping of horses, and rolling of wagons, and where there are no bees, nor butterflies, nor birds, save canaries that live in cages, and sparrows that can live anywhere."

"But the daisies are never taken to the city," said the daisies, after a short pause, "and they are flowers as well as the verbenas and pinks."

"Bless your innocent little hearts! I know they are," said the lily. "But the fact is, no one cares to buy daisies."

"So nobody cares for us in the big city," said the daisies to each other, "and yet the butterflies and birds tell us we are very pretty."

But the lily was mistaken, for the very next morning the gardener came out into the meadow with a trowel in his hand, and digging up some of the largest daisy plants, replanted them in a large flower-pot.

"Somebody wants us after all," they called to the grass, and the dandelions, and the other daisies, as they were carried away, "and we shall see the fine houses, and perhaps live with lilies, roses, and geraniums all the rest of our lives. Good-by, dear friends, good-by."

In a short time the daisies found themselves in a market-place--not among cabbages and tomatoes, but at the end of a row of blooming plants from the garden at which they had so often peeped through the fence. But they had scarcely had time to look about them when they saw a shabbily dressed boy coming slowly toward them--slowly, poor fellow, because one of his feet was sadly misshapen, and in his arms he carried a heavy bundle of newspapers. He looked eagerly at the gardener as he came near.

"I've got your daisies, my boy," the man called, cheerily. "Here they are, still wet with the dew, as handsome daisies as ever I saw. You must keep them in the shade a day or two, giving them a drink now and then, and I don't doubt they'll do finely. Will you take them now?"

"Yes, sir, thank you," said the boy, his whole face lighting up, and his pale cheeks flushing, "if you will let me leave my papers here a few minutes until I can run home with them. But you've brought so many--and they're in a nice pot, too--I'm afraid I haven't money enough to pay for them."

"Five cents was the price agreed on yesterday," said the good-natured gardener, "and I always stick to a bargain. And if there's more than you expected, all the better for you--some of 'em'll be sure to thrive anyhow. As for the pot, you're welcome to that. A flower-pot more or less won't make me or break me."

The boy threw down his bundle, took the daisies with another "thank you," and hurried away as fast as his poor foot would let him to an old, queer-looking wooden house near the market, where, hugging his treasure closely to his breast, he mounted the shaky stairs until he reached the garret. Pushing open a door here, he entered a neat little room with only one window in it, but that a dormer facing the south. The floor of this room was bare, with the exception of two or three round rag mats, and the walls were decorated in the oddest manner with pictures cut from old papers and magazines, bits of colored glass, strips of glittering tin twisted into grotesque shapes, and red and green motto-papers fashioned into some semblance of flowers.

On a bed near the window lay a little pale-faced, brown-haired girl, with wistful gray eyes, and a smile like sunshine breaking through a cloud. In her hands she held a pair of knitting-needles, with which she was knitting with marvellous quickness some coarse thread into wide, strong lace. Beside the bed stood a small table, holding a box of water-colors, a camel's-hair brush or two, a lead-pencil, a cup filled with water, and a piece of paper on which was a rude attempt at a painting of a bunch of daisies.

"See what I've brought you, Phemie!" cried her brother, joyfully. "To-day's your birthday: thirteen years old--almost as old as I am. Bet you thought I'd forgotten it; but I didn't, dearie; no, indeed."

"Daisies! daisies!" cried the girl, with a sweet glad laugh, dropping her work, and holding out her pretty slender hands. "Oh, brother--dear, good, _darling_ brother--will they live and grow?"

"The gardener says they will, and he ought to know," answered her brother. "And now you needn't be aching your poor little head any more trying to think exactly how they look, for you can study them all day long. But, good gracious! I must go and sell my papers, or we'll have no berries for dinner, and that would be dreadful." And giving his sister a kiss, he hurried away again, as happy, I believe, as any boy in that great city on that pleasant summer day.

"I am so glad, so very, _very_ glad that you have come," said Phemie to the daisies as soon as he was gone, as she set them on the table, and gazed at them with tears in her eyes, "and I beg of you to live, dear daisies. I am a poor weak little girl, and I can sit up but a few hours each day. But a long while ago I could run about like other little girls, and I lived in the country, where thousands of daisies grew, and I have never forgotten them. Mamma was alive then, but she's dead now, and father left us here a year after she died, and we have never seen him since. He didn't care for daisies or us. How good of Brother Frank to bring you to me, daisies! I shall knit so much better and faster, and earn so much more money, with your bright faces smiling at me. And some day I shall make a picture of you--I have been trying to paint one from memory--that shall be almost as pretty as your own dear selves." And she leaned back against her pillow, singing softly to herself; and while her fingers plied the knitting-needles, her spirit, led by the spirits of the meadow flowers, wandered to green fields, and listened to the hum of the bees and the song of the birds, and grew lighter and happier every moment. And Frank, coming in quietly at noon, saw her with closed eyes and clasped hands, and heard her say, "Dear God, a helpless child thanks Thee for daisies!"

And the daisies all lived, and increased in numbers until the room overflowed with them. On floor and shelves they bloomed in cracked pitchers, broken jars, old fruit cans, everything that Frank could find to fill with them. And Phemie did paint a beautiful picture of them at last, and through this picture came much good fortune to that garret home. For Frank, showing it, in his brotherly love and pride, to a kind gentleman whom he served with papers, was surprised to learn that it was worth more than his sister knitting lace for three long months could earn.

And now to end the story. The very prettiest New-Year's card that appeared to celebrate the birth of 1880 was one on which the New-Year's greeting was printed on a ribbon encircling the stems of a bunch of daisies. Those daisies are Phemie's daisies. And the young flower painter, growing stronger day by day, is the happy mistress of two pleasant rooms and a mite of a studio.

OLD HANNIBAL.

BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.

"No, mother," said Colonel Dunway to his wife, at the breakfast table, "I shall ride the black colt on parade to-day. Hannibal is too fat and too old."

"Too old? He and Barry are just of an age."

"And Barry's only a little colt yet? Well, you may bring him and Prue out to the grand review in the afternoon, but I guess I'll ride the black this morning. You can put Hannibal in the carry-all. Perhaps he'd like to take a look again at a regiment of troops in line."

Barry and Prue listened with all their ears.

They knew there was to be a grand parade of soldiers that day, and they were prouder than they knew how to tell of the fact that their father was to wear a uniform, and ride a horse, and give orders to some of the men.

"Prue," said Barry, "father's going to 'spect them."

"_In_-speck them," whispered Prue, correcting him. "Nobody else knows how."

That might be, for Colonel Dunway had been an officer of the regular army, and he was now Colonel of a regiment of militia; but there was one thing he had said that puzzled Barry and Prue dreadfully.

"Barry," said Prue, after breakfast, "is Nibble old?"

"Father says he is."

"And he said he was fat."

"Dr. Barnes is old, and he's fat."

"But his head's bare."

"Nibble isn't bald, and he isn't gray either."

"He's brown."

Mrs. Dunway had told the exact truth about Hannibal, or Nibble, as the children called him. He and Barry were just of an age, and he had been a mere two-year-old colt when Prue was a baby in her cradle.

It was after that that Colonel Dunway had taken Hannibal with him to the army, and brought him home again.

He had been a war-horse, the Colonel said, and so it would not do to turn him into a plough-horse, and the consequence was that Nibble did not have enough work to do, and he grew fat too fast.

Yet he and Barry were only nine years old apiece. That made eighteen years between them; and if you added seven years for Prue, it would only have made twenty-five, and everybody knows that is not very old, if you had given them all to Hannibal.

Barry and Prue would have given him almost anything they had, for he was a great friend and crony of theirs.

"Prue," said Barry, "let's go out to the barn. I've got an apple."

"He can have my bun."

What there was left of it, that meant, for Prue's little white teeth had been at work on that bun.

That had been a troubled morning for Hannibal. Before he had finished his breakfast a party of men rode by the house, and one of them was playing on a bugle. He had set Hannibal's mind at work upon army matters and war; so when Barry and Prue came to see him, he would not even nibble. He smelled of the apple, and he looked at the bun, but that was all.

"He's getting old," said Barry.

"And fat," added Prue.

"Tell you what, Prue, let's take him out into the lot. I know mother'd let us."

That was likely, for Mrs. Dunway always felt safer about them if Nibble were keeping them company.

"I'll get on his back."

"And I'll lead him. Wait till I fix the halter."

Prue climbed up on the side of the stall where Nibble was, and he stood perfectly still while she clambered over to her place on his back.

Barry knew exactly what to do, and the old war-horse began to think he did himself. He must have been thinking, for he half closed one eye as he was walking out, and opened the other very wide, with a wonderfully knowing look.

He was looking down the lane, and he saw that the front gate was open, and just at that moment there came up the road, very faint and sweet, the music of the cavalry bugle.

"Nibble! Nibble!" exclaimed Barry, "where are you going?"

Hannibal did not answer a word, but walked on down the lane very fast indeed, and Barry lost hold of the halter.

As for Prue, she was not scared a particle, for she had ridden in that way many a time, and her confidence in herself and old Nibble was unbounded.

"Cluck, cluck, cluck--get-ap."

"Stop, Prue, stop. He's going faster."

"Get-ap! Come, Barry. Oh, there's mother at the window!"

Mrs. Dunway was not frightened any more than Prue, for she said to herself, "Too old, indeed! Well, they're more like three children, when they're together, than anything else. I'm glad he is fat. He won't go too fast for Prue."

He was in the road now, and he seemed disposed to keep Barry from again getting hold of that halter.

"Oh dear," said Barry, "the parade-ground's down there."

Hannibal knew that, by the music, and he was almost trotting now.

In fact, he was looking younger and younger, somehow, every minute, and Barry felt more and more as if he ought to have hold of the halter, instead of merely running along-side and shouting to Prue.

The regiment was drawn up on the great bare field where the review was to be that afternoon, and they looked splendidly.

Colonel Dunway was saying so, as he sat in front of them, on his handsome black colt, and a number of other officers who were riding with him said the same, and so did the ladies who were keeping them company.

Just then the bugle sounded again, from the head of the column, and Prue had to hold on hard, for Hannibal suddenly began to canter, and he answered the music with a loud, clear whinny of delight.

Barry was half out of breath with running, but he kept up with the other two, and in a moment more Hannibal halted, proudly arching his neck, and treading daintily upon the grass, right in front of the regiment.

"I declare," exclaimed Colonel Dunway, "the old fellow has come to review the troops."

"So has Prue," said one of the officers.

Barry hardly knew whether to laugh or to cry, but the soldiers suddenly broke out in a grand "hurrah."

They were cheering Prue and her war-horse, and Colonel Dunway himself was compelled to let the "three children" stay and keep the place Hannibal chose for them at the head of the regiment.

There was plenty of apples for Nibble that day.

SEA-BREEZES.

LETTER No. 2 FROM BESSIE MAYNARD TO HER DOLL.

OLD ORCHARD BEACH, _July, 1880_.

The days must seem very long and lonely to you, my sweet Clytemnestra, and I will send you another letter, to "cheer you up a bit," as nursie used to say when she gave me a lump of sugar, after pulling my curls 'most out of my head, trying to get out the tangles.

How are you getting along all this time? and what do you find to amuse yourself with? Do you sit still in your own corner of the baby-house day after day, or does some kind fairy come in once in a while and wind you up, so that you can run round the room and get a little exercise? We will have lots of walks and talks when I get home, my Clytie. I heard mamma telling Cousin Frank last night that we should proberly go next month. If I did not know that you were at home expecting and wanting me, it would be awfully hard to think of leaving this place; for life by the sad sea waves is truly (as I heard a lady say yesterday) "fassernating and terancing."

There are so many people here it seems like a party all the time. There are not many children, though--at least not at _our_ hotel; only Fanny, Dora, and me for girls; Randolph Peyton, Jack Hunter, Charley Phillips, and Hal Davis for boys; Snip and Moppet for dogs; and the cunningest wee little mite of a pussykin, named Whitetoes, for cats. Not that cats and dogs are exactly _children_, either, but they are just as good, and sometimes better. I'm sure I would rather play any time with Snip and Whitetoes than with that horrid Randolph. He is the very unpolitest boy I ever knew. Let me tell you something he did yesterday, and then I guess you will agree with me. We seven children and the dogs had planned a beautiful picnic down on "the island," as we call it.

You know the geography says (or you _would_ know if you had ever been to school, poor child!) that "an island is a portion of land entirely surrounded by water." Well, _this_ "portion of land" runs out ever so far into the sea, and has a pretty grove on it; and at high tide the water covers the little strip of land where it really joins the beach, so that for a little while it _is_ an island, but the rest of the time it is a _peninsula_. That is a big word, and you don't know a bit what it means, and I can't tell you now; you shall learn about it when we begin our lessons.

But, oh dear, I was going to tell you about the picnic, and Randolph Peyton, the great disagreeable boy. Somehow or other, when I begin to write to you, there are so many things to essplain that I never seem to "come to the point," as papa says.

We had planned to start at eight o'clock, but what with Moppet's running away, and Snip's taking a nap behind a hay-cock down in the orchard, where we only found him by accident at the very last minute, we were not fairly on our way till almost nine. The boys carried the lunch baskets, Fan wheeled her baby carriage, with poor invalid Jane lying back on the pillows, looking too forlorn for anything, but really Fan seems to love her even more than she loved Lucille; and I do think, considering what Jane has been through, that she is the very best child in the world.

Sometimes when I look at her woe-begone face, and her poor little head without a single hair on it (she wears a lace cap, but we can see the _bald_ right through), and remember her cheeks as they used to be, and her lovely golden curls, and then think how gentle and kind she is, never complaining, nor speaking a single cross word, I can't help saying' right out to her, "You poor little dear thing. Solomon was right when he said 'Handsome is, that handsome does.'" Well, Fan wheeled her along, and I carried Moppet curled up in my arms like a white puff-ball, while Dora ran races all along the beach with Snip.

I forgot to tell you that Randolph had been behaving badly all the way, teasing us girls, pinching the dogs, and making fun of Jane; but the terrible thing of all did not happen till we were crossing over to the island. We always lay a board across from a rock on the beach side to a rock on the island side, and over that we girls walk, though the boys generally wade right through the water.

Fan and Jane went first on the board, then Dora and Snip, and last Moppet and me.

Now listen, my Clytie, though, without having seen it, you never can quite know how perfectly terrible it was. Just as Dora and Snip were in the very middle of the board, and _all_ of us were _on_ it, Randolph, who was standing in the water, gave a most unearthly screech, and at that very minute-- But, mercy me! there's the tea-bell, and you _must_ excuse me, my lamb, for leaving you right here, for how can I help it when I smell _waffles_?--waffles, and muffins too, I think.

In greatest haste, Your own mamma, BESSIE.

P.S.--It _was_ waffles I smelled, and I thought of you, dear Clytie, as I ate them. Now I shall have to leave my story of Randolph at its very smilax (or climax, which is it?), and finish it in my next letter, for I have written so much my fingers are all cramped up; so good-night.

THE PITIFUL HARE.

FROM THE JAPANESE, BY W. E. GRIFFIS.

Hares are always treated kindly by the Chinese and Japanese people, who make household pets of them. The Chinese believe that the hare lives to be a thousand years old, and that at the end of five centuries its hair becomes white. Instead of seeing a man in the moon, they imagine they see a hare standing on its hind-legs, and pounding drugs in a mortar. There are great creatures like gigantic men, called genii, who live in the moon, and make "the elixir of life," a draught of which confers very long life. The hare is their steward, and spends his time in pounding the precious roots and bark of the "tree of the king of drugs," from which the elixir is made. In the Japanese fairy tales, whoever smells, touches, or tastes of this tree is immediately healed of all disease.

The country folks in Japan believe a great deal more in the influence of the moon on crops, and good luck, and the weather, than our farmers do, and some of the Japanese almanacs are very funny to read. It is for these reasons that the people do not injure the hare, for fear of hindering the good influence of the moon.

The hare is considered above all others the faithful animal, and in the story which the picture tells he is comforting his master.

It would seem very queer to you, my readers, to see tame hares running about the house instead of your pet dogs and cats? But this is what the little Japanese see.

MEREDITH, NEW HAMPSHIRE.

I thought some of the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE would like to hear about a young robin my papa found under a cherry-tree near the house. He thought I could raise him, and take him back to New York for a pet. But after I had kept him two days in my room, he would chirp so mournfully when he heard the other birds singing merrily outside that it made me feel so sorry, I took him and put him on a branch of the tree. Oh, I wish you could have seen him flap his wings with delight. Then the old birds came, so glad to greet him. And how glad I was then that I had given him his freedom!

ALBERTO A. DAL M.

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MEADVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA.

I am a subscriber to YOUNG PEOPLE, and am much pleased with it. It is the only pet I have.

I live near the Alleghany College, and I like to see the students drilling. On Commencement afternoon they had a regular sham battle. The military is composed of four companies, all under the command of Major H----. The Major ordered out two companies for the sham battle. One company he sent around the base of a hill, and up through a ravine. The other company turned the cannon round, and made the attacking party surrender as they came out in sight.

WILLIE V.

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ST. LOUIS COUNTY, MISSOURI.

I caught some turtles, which I keep in a tub. I feed them on meat, bread, and carrots. Last summer I hatched out two land turtles. Now I have fifteen turtles' eggs, and I think they will hatch. We found a land turtle that had July 3, 1776, carved on its back. I hope "The Moral Pirates" will catch some turtles. I am nine years old.

C. G. R.

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WELLSBURG, WEST VIRGINIA.

I was up in the woods a few days ago, and I saw a woodchuck go in a hole. Having heard that they had a great deal of curiosity, I hid behind a heap of dirt real close to the hole, and in a minute out the woodchuck came to get a better look at me. Just then Dick, a little dog, came scampering up, ran by the hole, turned round, and crept softly back and stopped, watching, with eyes and ears on the alert. But I made a noise, so the woodchuck did not come out again.

Once Dick was watching on the top of a steep bank, and a great big woodchuck stuck its head out of a hole. Dick grabbed it, and together they rolled to the bottom of the bank, where, if somebody had not killed the woodchuck, Dick would have had the worst of the fight, as he was the smallest.

Are ground-squirrels, chipmunks, and gophers the same kind of animals?

I have a barrel sunk in the ground, with cold water running in and out, and about two hundred minnows in it. Please tell me something good to feed them on.

SAMUEL J.

The ground-squirrel and chipmunk are the same animal, but the gopher, or Canada pouched rat, belongs to a different family.--Feed your minnows by throwing bread-crumbs, and flies, and other small insects on the surface of the water.

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CHIMACUM VALLEY, WASHINGTON TERRITORY.

I live on a farm. I take YOUNG PEOPLE, and I think it is a very nice little paper.

I have had the rheumatism since Christmas so bad that I could not walk nor turn myself in bed. Do you know what will get me well? I am thirteen years old.

A lady gave me eight ducks' eggs. I set them under a hen, and now I have five little ducks. The old hen looks so frightened when her little ones go swimming in a pan of water! I suppose she thinks they are strange chickens. I have a dog named Prince. He knows so much he comes very near talking. Whenever I go away and come back, he will pick up a stick in his mouth and run toward me. I have a hen with nine little chicks. Whenever they get hungry, the mamma hen will come to the door of the house and cluck. My father milks twenty-eight cows. They give a bucket of milk apiece.

ARTHUR S. R.

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YOSEMITE VALLEY, CALIFORNIA.

I live in Philadelphia, but it is so hot there in the summer that we decided to spend a few weeks in this beautiful Californian valley, camping out.

We travelled from Merced to this place in our own wagons, pitching our tents every night. I like camp life very much, sleeping in tents and eating in the open air. Sometimes we build a camp fire in the evening, and all sit around it, telling stories and singing. It is very warm in the daytime here, and cold at night; and there is such a strong wind almost all the time that if you go too near the water-falls the spray is blown over you like rain. We make excursions every day to mountains and water-falls near by.

On the way here we saw a tree so large that it took fourteen of us to get our arms round it.

If any of the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE ever get a chance to go camping, I advise them to do it, for I think it is a great deal of fun.

I like to read YOUNG PEOPLE very much, and I am so glad I take it. I am twelve years old.

ALICE W. S.

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GLENORA, MISSISSIPPI.

My grandma gives YOUNG PEOPLE to my brother and myself, and we like it very much. I have no pets to write about, for my little pet deer, named Nettie, died. We live in the country, on the banks of a beautiful lake, and have a nice time fishing and taking skiff rides. I wish you could see the lovely magnolia-trees in my grandma's yard; and she has so many pretty roses too.

LOUISE B.

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BRIDGEPORT, CONNECTICUT.

My papa is in Europe this summer, and he writes me very funny letters. His last one was from Paris, and he told me what people did when they wanted to take a bath in their room at the hotel. You touch an electric bell, and the man in the office telegraphs to a station, and a cart carrying a round boiler with hot and cold water, and drawn by a horse, comes dashing up to the hotel just like a fire engine; a man rushes up to your room with a tub and towels, and before you know it you are taking a nice warm bath. Papa said one day, just for fun, he rang for two baths at the same time, and it was very comical to see the two Frenchmen fight to see which bath should be used first. Papa makes little sketches all through his letters, so I know just how things look. I guess we shall all go to Europe another year, and then I will write you a letter from London or Paris.

PAUL S.

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DANSVILLE, NEW YORK.

I am four and a half years old, and I can not read or write, but mamma is writing this for me. Papa has taken HARPER'S WEEKLY since 1865, and binds it himself, and now he takes YOUNG PEOPLE for me, and is going to bind that too. I love to look at the pictures and hear mamma read the stories in my paper as soon as it is sewed and cut.

I have many nice toys and playthings, and two pet kittens; their names are Dick and Spot.

Papa plays on the violin, and mamma plays the organ, and I play on my triangle with them. I have a little violin, too, that grandpa gave me, but I don't play on it much when papa and mamma play. I can sing a great many pieces. I like music.

We live in a pleasant farm-house south of Dansville. I do lots of chores for papa and mamma, and I ride our horse to water nearly every day. We have plenty of nice fruit and flowers.

I think the Post-office Box is nice.

CLYDE H.

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HASTINGS, MINNESOTA.

I take YOUNG PEOPLE, and I like it so much. I always read the letters the very first thing when I get my paper. Almost all the boys and girls write about their pets. I have no pets except my dolls. I have eight dolls. The largest is wax, and I call her Bessie.

As I was trying to paint, the other day, I saw a large ant run along. I touched it with my brush, and then it was a green ant instead of a black one.

I tried the recipe for cup-cake that Bessie L. S. sent, and it was just splendid.

I think the story of "The Moral Pirates" is very nice. When I get a whole volume of YOUNG PEOPLE, I am going to have it bound. I am ten years old.

MABEL I.

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JENKINTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA.

Our school closed on the last day of June, and the 1st of July we had a picnic, and we all enjoyed ourselves very much.

I like YOUNG PEOPLE, especially the Post-office Box. The story of "The Moral Pirates" is splendid, and I hope it will be a good long one.

I have no tame pets, but there are some chipping sparrows around our house. One pair built a nest in the honeysuckles by the kitchen door, and another pair built in the grape arbor.

Here is a recipe for cake for the Cooking Club: One and a half cups of sugar; one egg; two table-spoonfuls of butter; three cups of sifted flour; one cup of sweet milk; two tea-spoonfuls of cream of tartar; one of soda; a little essence of either lemon or almond--I like almond best. This will make a good big cake.

ELLA B. R.

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I found fifty-five new flowers in June. Among them was the _Ceanothus americanus_, or New Jersey tea, the leaves of which, mamma read to me, were used for tea during the American Revolution. It is a pretty shrub with white flowers.

I have two pet kittens, named Puck and Blossom.

I would like to send Carrie Harding some pressed arbutus, but it has done blooming for this year. I would be glad to exchange other kinds of pressed flowers with her, if she would like to do so.

HARRY H. MOORE, Windsor, Connecticut.

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ANACOSTIA, D. C.

On the 10th of July I was nine years old. Although it is vacation now, I practice writing in my copy-book, for it is very important to be a good writer.

I have a butterfly net, and have caught some very pretty specimens. If Walter H. P. would use benzine to kill his butterflies, he would find it quite as good as cyanide of potassium, which is so poisonous. Benzine can be bought by the quart at the paint shops at a low price, and one or two drops on the head of a butterfly will kill it at once.

I have a bantam rooster so tame that he will allow me to pick him up and carry him in my arms. I have a kitchen-garden, too. In it there are potatoes, corn, tomatoes, water-melons, a pea-nut vine, and two fine tobacco plants. One of my tomato vines has fruit on it. There are no weeds in my garden.

I think HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE is the best paper published for children.

WILLIE C. S.

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HARSHMANVILLE, OHIO.

Papa takes HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE for my brother. Mamma made him a pie from Helen's recipe. It was very nice. Mamma says some little girls are born cooks.

When my brother reads the fairy stories in YOUNG PEOPLE, he says he would like to wade the Atlantic Ocean, and put a few whales in his pocket for his minnow tank. Now he wants to go fishing in a boat. He is almost ten, and I am seven.

Mamma says, Tell Puss Hunter to set her bread to rise in a deep vessel, as the less surface exposed, the better it is, as the gas is kept confined in the dough. A flannel cloth to cover it with is best, for the same reason. Mamma says she is a friend to all little bakers.

MYRTIE BELLE E.

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I would like to exchange dried grasses, Southern moss, birds' eggs and nests, for sea-shells, with any reader of YOUNG PEOPLE.

HORACE L. BARLOW, Refugio, Refugio County, Texas.

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I would be glad to exchange birds' eggs with any correspondent of YOUNG PEOPLE.

S. E. STRONG, 1394 Euclid Avenue, Cleveland, Ohio.

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I am eleven years old. I have a pony, some rabbits, guinea-pigs, and ferrets. Not long ago my pony went into the bantam-house, and ate up a whole boxful of oats which was standing there. Then he pulled down a bag of oats, and scattered them all over the floor. I have two canaries which have set twice this spring, but have not raised a bird.

I would like to exchange pressed flowers with some little girl in California.

WINNIE WALDRON, Care of Mr. E. H. Waldron, Lafayette, Indiana.

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Will Harry Starr Kealhofer, of Memphis, Tennessee, please send his full address, and a list of stamps he wishes to exchange, to M. C. Stryker, corner of Argyle Avenue and Biddle Street, Baltimore, Maryland?

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CHICAGO, ILLINOIS.

Will you please tell me the origin of the name of strawberries? I take YOUNG PEOPLE, and like it very much, and my little cousins in Louisiana take it too. I am eight years old.

WINNIE S. G.

The word strawberry is from the Anglo-Saxon, and was formerly written _streawberie_. The reason for applying the name to the delicious little fruit is undecided. Some authorities hold that it should be written strayberry, and that it refers to the creeping or straying habit of the vines.

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C. L. B.--Alwur, sometimes written Alwar or Alvar, is a town of India, eighty-five miles southwest of Delhi.

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BONANZA, IDAHO.

I have heard that there are a great many towns in the United States named Vicksburg. Can you tell me how many?

My sister tried Helen's recipe for lemon pie, in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 32, and it was very nice.

F. M. G.

There are five towns and cities named Vicksburg, one in each of the following States: Kansas, Michigan, Minnesota, Pennsylvania, Mississippi.

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WILLIE M.--Directions for making an ordinary kite were given in Post-office Box No. 19. "Sim Vedder's Kite," in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 25, also contained some valuable suggestions.

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WAVE.--Common sunfish can not injure the gold-fish and other inhabitants of your aquarium.

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OTTAWA, CANADA.

I am nine years old, and I have two sisters and one brother, Ruth, Alonzo, and baby Vera.

There was a boy who wrote to YOUNG PEOPLE and said he was very fond of history. So am I. I have read _Peter Parley's History of the United States_ five times, and now I am reading Charles Dickens's _Child's History of England_. I don't know what to read next. I wish you would tell me the names of some child's histories, for I do not understand very well those written for older people.

PERCY R.

All of Abbott's Illustrated Histories would interest you. Then there are some good histories for young readers by Miss Yonge; and child's histories of the United States, of Greece, and of Rome, by Bonner; an interesting child's history of the United States, by T. W. Higginson; and many other books referring to special periods, like Mr. Coffin's _Story of Liberty_ and _Boys of '76_, where you will find much valuable information. The works by Abbott, Bonner, and Coffin are published by Harper & Brothers.

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ELLA W.--The date of the invention of gun-powder is unknown. Tradition says that it was used in China as early as A.D. 85, for fire-works and blasting, and that the Arabs employed it at the siege of Mecca in 690. Roger Bacon is supposed to allude to its explosive force, and it is said that Berthold Schwartz, a monk, about 1336, discovered the mode of manufacturing it. It is also said that the knowledge of it was conveyed to Europe by the returning Crusaders.

Tempt your parrot with English walnuts, bits of apple and pear, and canary and hemp seed, and also give it a red pepper to pick to pieces. Let it out of its cage to climb about an hour or more every morning. A parrot can not be healthy without some exercise.

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GEORGE F.--Directions for "Model Yacht Building" were given in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 23.

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F. H. L.--Any hardware merchant will send to New York city for a catalogue of toy steam-engines for you, which will give you full information in regard to styles, prices, and how and where the engine you require can be obtained.

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FRED H. H.--You can purchase turtles at any store where gold-fish and materials for an aquarium are sold. They will cost you very little--ten or fifteen cents apiece, perhaps, for small ones. If you are going to the country, you can catch plenty of them yourself. By reading former numbers of Our Post-office Box you will find many directions for the care of turtles. A water turtle needs clean water, and also stones to climb up on.

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Flavors are acknowledged from Anna Stuart, John Parr, Lulu A. Sacchi, Helen E. H., Ed. Walshe, Edith Haigh, Blanche C., H. Krause, Fannie L. D., Eddie A. Leet.

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Correct answers to puzzles are received from Joseph Roome, Philip E. Ide, William I. Coleman, Harry Louis, May L. Davis, R. H. King, W. Fowler, J. H. Shaw, Otis L. How, John W., Harry E. Furber, George W. Raymond, W. Callaghan, Leon Munroe, Beryl Abbott, Willie Miner, Eddie Wheeler, H. M. P., Helen W. Dean, Howard Rathbone, Daisy Violet, Paul Sterling, F. and B. Haigh, M. C. Stryker, Winnie Waldron, George Francis, Carrie and Cora, Wilfred H. Warner, Lucie Ruprecht, H. H. Gottleben, Lillian Clark, Minnie Lewis, Eddie S. Hequembourg, G. Volckhausen, Alfred Jaquith, A. H. Ellard, Nannie S. S., Hallie S. Morgan, Jessie and Gertie Evans.

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PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

NUMERICAL CHARADE.

I am composed of 16 letters. My 11, 8, 15, 5 is used in winter. My 7, 12, 9, 2, 8 is found on the sea-shore. My 1, 3, 14, 6, 10 is a flock of birds. My 2, 3, 5, 15 is a vein of metal. My 1, 16, 13, 4, 5 is floating vapor. My whole was a noted British admiral.

"TOUT OU RIEN."

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No. 2.

WORD SQUARE.

First, a division of time. Second, a girl's name. Third, disagreeable. Fourth, beams of light.

M. E. N.

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No. 3.

HIDDEN CITIES AND COUNTRIES.

1. I know the girls have nice new gloves. 2. Yes, I am going to start for Europe to-morrow. 3. The hero met his comrades. 4. At the sale many people were present. 5. The ox for David was brought home yesterday. 6. When you go to Ceylon, do not neglect to write often to mother. 7. Near the foxes' den marks of feet were seen. 8. When Johnny whispers, I always tell him to speak louder. 9. Being unjustly accused by our teachers, we deny having disobeyed the rules. 10. There were so many people, I thought the procession would never pass.

S. B.

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No. 4.

ENIGMA.

My first is in float, but not in sink. My second is in write, but not in ink. My third is in barn, but not in store. My fourth is in nickel, but not in ore. My fifth is in garden, but not in walk. My sixth is in stem, but not in stalk. My whole is a delicious fruit.

W. H. L.

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No. 5.

DIAMOND PUZZLE.

In soprano. A mineral. A musical instrument. A verb. In soprano.

WILLIE.

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No. 6.

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

A period of time. A measurement. An animal. A river in the United States. To signify. Answer--Two of the United States.

JUPITER.

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ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN NO. 36.

No. 1.

1. Black, bl_o_ck, b_r_ock, br_i_ck, _t_rick, tric_e_, tri_t_e, _w_rite, w_h_ite. 2. Rose, r_i_se, ri_l_e, _w_ile, wil_y_, _l_ily. 3. Beef, _r_eef, ree_l_, re_a_l, _v_eal. 4. Lamb, lam_e_, la_n_e, lan_d_, _b_and, b_o_nd, bo_l_d, _w_old, wol_f_. 5. Sick, si_l_k, sil_l_, _w_ill, w_e_ll. 6. Moon, _b_oon, boo_r_, bo_a_r, _s_oar, s_t_ar. 7. Town, to_r_n, _m_orn, mor_e_, mo_t_e, m_i_te, _c_ite, cit_y_. 8. Hawk, ha_r_k, _b_ark, bar_d_, b_i_rd. 9. Sew, se_t_, s_i_t, si_p_, _r_ip. 10. Page, _r_age, ra_c_e, rac_k_, r_o_ck, ro_o_k, _b_ook.

No. 2.

Alabama.

No. 3.

M S E T M E L O N T O P N

No. 4.

A rolling stone gathers no moss.

No. 5.

P E A L E N V Y A V E R L Y R E

No. 6.

Pudding.

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The extent and character of the circulation of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE will render it a first-class medium for advertising. A limited number of approved advertisements will be inserted on two inside pages at 75 cents per line.

Address HARPER & BROTHERS, Franklin Square, N. Y.

OUR CHILDREN'S SONGS.

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Our Children's Songs. Illustrated. 8vo, Ornamental Cover, $1.00.

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Songs for the nursery, songs for childhood, for girlhood, boyhood, and sacred songs--the whole melody of childhood and youth bound in one cover. Full of lovely pictures; sweet mother and baby faces; charming bits of scenery, and the dear old Bible story-telling pictures.--_Churchman_, N. Y.

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Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York.

HARPER & BROTHERS _will send the above work by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, on receipt of the price_.

ELEMENTARY EDUCATION.

Books for the School and Family.

* * * * *

ARITHMETIC.

FRENCH'S FIRST LESSONS IN NUMBERS. First Lessons in Numbers, in their Natural Order: First, _Visible Objects_; Second, _Concrete Numbers_; Third, _Abstract Numbers_. By JOHN H. FRENCH, LL.D. Illustrated. 16mo, Half Leather, 25 cents.

FRENCH'S ELEMENTARY ARITHMETIC FOR THE SLATE. Elementary Arithmetic for the Slate, in which Methods and Rules are based upon Principles established by Induction. By JOHN H. FRENCH, LL.D. Ill'd. 16mo, Half Leather, 37 cts.

FRENCH'S MENTAL ARITHMETIC. Mental Arithmetic, in which Combinations of Numbers, Solutions of Problems, and Principles of Arithmetical Analysis are based upon the Laws of Mental Development. By JOHN H. FRENCH, LL.D. Illustrated. 16mo, Half Leather, 36 cents.

NATURAL SCIENCE.

FIRST LESSONS IN NATURAL HISTORY AND LANGUAGE. Entertaining and Instructive Lessons in Natural History and Language for Primary and Grammar Schools. 12mo, Cloth, 35 cents.

THE CHILD'S BOOK OF NATURE. The Child's Book of Nature, for the Use of Families and Schools: intended to aid Mothers and Teachers in Training Children in the Observation of Nature. In Three Parts. Part I. Plants.