Part 3

Clinton glanced up, and to his surprise saw that the lordly old tree had grown into a ragged pair of stairs, and the round robin nodded to him as if it said as plainly as possible, "Come up." So he began climbing up; but as fast as he climbed, it hopped on above him, and the stairs began to grow and grow. But he kept bravely on, for he knew the stairs would stop some time, and he was sure the round robin would, though he was somewhat astonished when he found the stairs making directly for the sun, and he was still more so when, as he came near the brilliant orb of day, he saw its mouth open like a great portcullis, and on its huge upper lip was written in long black letters,

THE GRAMMAR COURT.

And here the stairs stopped, and he saw the round robin go in with a crowd of gay and festive people; so, when he came up to the top of the stairs, he went in too. And he found himself in a lofty chamber of clouds, and away up at one end under a great rainbow sat a haughty-looking King, and the gay and festive people ranged themselves on either side of him. By-and-by the King called out in a loud voice:

"Where is little Article, our page?"

Immediately a small boy, in a pair of mighty slippers, who looked like a very little article indeed, stood trembling before the King.

"Come," roared the King, "don't stand loafing about, but run as fast as you can to the royal presence of Queen Noun, and tell her we request her attendance." Whereat the little Article, trembling a great deal, skipped backward to the door, and then ran off as fast as he could. "For how," said the King, trying to get off a poor joke, as kings are apt to--"how could King Verb be merry if the _object_ of his thoughts and the _subject_ of his affections be absent from the throne?"

And this seemed to tickle all the gay and festive people immensely, for they giggled a great deal, and were much annoyed because Clinton did not giggle too, though he could not for the world tell what they were having such fun about. One of them even would have spoken to him, had not his Majesty just then called out lustily to the man at the door, "Admit them instantly, Sir Preposition." And obediently Sir Preposition drew back the curtain, and led forward a lady enveloped in a long thick veil. The King hopped down from his throne, he was in such a hurry, exclaiming, as he went, in a very hoarse voice, "Allow thy lord to rend the midnight cloud, and behold the moon in all her glory." At the same time he lifted up the cloud, as he called it, and disclosed, not the slightest hint of a beauty, but the withered face of a hideous old woman.

Then the King, I am ashamed to say, turned round and shook his fist in the timid little Article's face. "How dare you, minion," shrieked he, "point out this ugly old Aunt Pronoun, placing her instead of the fairest princess living--Soldiers! soldiers!"--here he turned almost blue in the face, and pointed to the puny little Article as if he were a very lion--"soldiers, seize the traitor!" he hissed.

The soldiers were about to obey him, when a piercing scream rung out through the apartment. Everybody looked round to see what had happened; and sure enough, almost next to where Clinton stood, a very spare court lady had fallen into hysterics. "Oh! alas!" cried she, gasping all the while like any fish; "ah me! alack! fiddle-dee-dee! How--can--he--be--so--cruel!" Here she flung herself into somebody's arms, and was dragged from the room.

"Ho! ho!" said the King; "who's that?"

"Lady Interjection," squeaked the little Article, nervously touching his hat.

"Lady Interjection, is it? Well, she'd better stop this kind of business, as it is growing rather dreary. However, that won't hinder our making short work of Aunt Pronoun. Soldiers!"

Again the soldiers marched up in a most decorous way, when a handsome young courtier rushed forward, and threw himself at the feet of the King. "My dear brother-in-law--I mean your Majesty," he exclaimed--"can't you make up your royal mind to spare this dear old party, remembering her infirmities? Oh, do make up your mind to do so, and to spare also my sister, Queen Noun! Call to mind her many pleasing qualities. She is beautiful, charming, graceful, witty, loving, gentle--"

"Stop! stop! Adjective," shouted the King; "you'll drive me mad. Get up and listen to my Lord Adverb, and don't kneel there chattering like a magpie."

Immediately an aged and venerable man approached King Verb. As Adjective departed, he heard him whisper in the Prime Minister's ear, "Do your best to _modify_ him."

The old man nodded sagaciously, and then addressed his sovereign in a low, clear voice: "Your grace will pardon the rashness of an aged man if I say you have acted somewhat hastily. The advice I give you is to think slowly, coolly, deliberately, and wisely, and then act--kindly."

"Excellent!" said the testy monarch, for he had cooled down a great deal. "Let us hear what Aunt Pronoun can say for herself."

The old lady seemed very cross at the way she had been abused. She drew herself up, and made the King wince, she looked at him so hard. "I have nothing, sire, to say for myself," she said, "save that the Queen, on receiving your message, bid me come to you with the news that you have a young prince born to you."

How the people did shout for joy at this announcement, and how the King did smile, you can not imagine. At any rate Clinton couldn't.

"We thank you for this glorious news, Madam Pronoun," said King Verb, "and we beg you to pardon our sudden displeasure. In recompense, we will have to make you the Prince's godmother. Come, what shall his name be?"

Ladies of Pronoun's age are not so easy to make up with; so she looked very injured at first, but by-and-by began smiling. "King Verb," said she, "I was much grieved at your anger, for it was entirely unmerited; but I rejoice at your kindness, and in token of your having taken the Queen and myself again into court favor and your friendship, I will name the young Prince--Conjunction."

"Hurrah!" cried Clinton, he was so mightily pleased; "I see it all now."

* * * * *

"I am glad you do," said his teacher's voice, close beside him; "but you'd better get up now, else you'll take cold. It's pretty near sunset, and you've been sleeping on this grass nearly two hours."

Clinton sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked about him. There he was in the woods, as natural as life. Could it have been a dream? Ha! what was that? He happens to spy the round robin looking over his nest, and--yes--_winking at him_. He got up and meekly followed his teacher, never speaking a word. But from that day to this he firmly believes that what he saw was true, and from that day to this I don't believe he ever missed a grammar lesson.

HOW THE PRIZE KITTEN WON HER MEDAL.

BY AGNES CARR.

Pretty little Kitty Kimo was sent by her mistress to the cat show, where her silky fur, bright eyes like great yellow daisies, and pink sea-shell-like ears, soon won her a prize, and she came home with a beautiful silver medal hung round her neck by a blue ribbon, and just the proudest little kit in all catdom.

Oh, how Miss Alice petted her, and fed her on chicken and cream for a week afterward! and how all the poor black, white, and gray cats who had not been to the show watched her with envy as she promenaded up and down the fence with the pretty medal glittering on her neck, and turning her vain little head right and left that every one might see it.

"She puts on as many airs as though she had killed a dozen rats," said Tabby Tortoiseshell, a scraggy-looking old cat, who was blind in one eye.

"When she couldn't catch even a mouse to save her life," said Tommy Scratchclaw, a famous hunter and mouser.

"She hissed and spat at me this morning, when I met her in the violet bed," said Pussy Clover, "and then scampered off up the elm-tree to show her tin locket to Dandy Maltese, who presented her with the neck of a sparrow he had just killed on the spot."

"Silly kitten!" sniffed old Granny Grimalkin, taking a pinch of catnip snuff. "Beauty isn't everything. I once won a brass button on a cord by turning door handles and jumping over a cane; but she hasn't done a thing except look as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth."

"Let us take her medal away, and make her win it back," suggested Sancho Squaller, a powerful black cat, with eyes like buttercups.

"Hurrah! so we will," shouted Tommy Scratchclaw; and all the cats and kits purred a glad assent, and all set up such a mewing and caterwauling, as they discussed how it should be done, that the cook at the corner came rushing out with a broom to drive "those plaguey cats" off the fence.

Kitty Kimo meanwhile, quite unconscious of the plans of her enemies, had enjoyed her sparrow neck exceedingly, and then curled herself up in the shade of a rose-bush for a noon-day nap, and slept so soundly that she never even opened one eye when tiny Topsy Titmouse crept slyly up on her velvety paws, and with her little white teeth gnawed the blue ribbon, and bore off the medal in triumph. Fancy Kitty Kimo's dismay, when she awoke, to see her precious medal shining on the breast of ugly Tabby Tortoiseshell, while all the other cats sat round in a circle, twirling their whiskers and chuckling at the success of their trick.

"Me-ow! me-ow! me-ow!" she wailed. "Oh, give me back my medal, my beautiful medal!"

"Not until you have earned it," replied black Sancho Squaller, with the sternness of a judge.

"What must I do?" she cried.

"Bring us the head of the wicked old rat who steals our meat and milk," said Tommy Scratchclaw, "and you shall have your prize."

And all the cats laughed a scornful "Ha! ha! ha!" for they well knew little Miss Kimo would stand no chance against his ratship, who was as strong as he was bad, and had fought and conquered the most renowned warriors in the block.

So at these words poor Kitty Kimo wailed louder than ever, and gave up her prize for lost, until Dandy Maltese, who sympathized with her, suggested that she should engage, the services of Ratty Terrier, a smart little dog that lived next door.

Now Kitty was rather afraid of Ratty, but she felt that she must make every effort to regain her lost trinket; so taking a wish-bone with her as a peace-offering, she that afternoon ventured to call on Mr. Terrier.

Not being very fond of cats, he showed his teeth at sight of her, and looked rather savage, but she quickly laid the chicken bone before him, and it so gratified him that he listened quite pleasantly to her petition.

"So you want me to kill Mr. Gray Rat for you?" he said. "He is a plucky old fellow, and has given me many a good laugh at the way he snips bits out of the cats' ears; but I think you have been badly treated, and if you will bring me a nice marrow-bone, I'll see what I can do for you."

Kitty looked very doleful at this, but as Ratty turned away, and began snapping at flies, she murmured, "I'll try," and tripped off round the corner to where a fat jolly butcher was chopping up meat.

"Mew, mew, mew," said Kitty, rubbing against his foot.

"Why, little cat, what do you want?" asked the butcher.

"Mew, mew, mew," cried Kitty again; but the butcher did not understand cat language, so she took hold of a big bone that lay on the counter, with her teeth, when he said,

"Oh no, Miss Kitty, you can't have that unless you pay me a penny for it."

This made Kitty very sad. "For where can I get a penny?" she thought, as she walked slowly out of the shop. But just outside she met a monkey who was dancing gayly to the sound of a hand-organ, and for doing so people gave him a great many pennies, which he slipped into his coat pocket. He sat down after a while to rest, and refresh himself with an apple, and then Kitty stole up, and begged:

"Please, Mr. Jack, give me one of your pennies to buy a marrow-bone for Ratty Terrier, and then he will kill the wicked old rat for me, and I shall get back the medal I won at the cat show."

"Chatter, chatter, chatter," said the monkey. "Most of these belong to my master; but I will give you one of mine if you will get me a handful of pea-nuts from yonder stand. I am very fond of them, and they sell very few for a cent."

This stand was kept by a toothless old woman, and Kitty knew it was useless to try and make her understand kitten talk; but she ran across the way, and heard the old lady mumbling to herself, "I'd give a lot of pea-nuts for a few drops of fresh milk to put in my tea."

At these words Kitty purred for joy, and fairly skipped over the ground, for she was acquainted with a goat, who, she thought, would be sure to give her some milk. But when she came to the pasture where the goat was feeding, she found Nanny as selfish as the rest of the world, and not a drop of milk would she give, unless Kitty brought her a head of green lettuce for her supper.

Poor Kitty felt terribly discouraged; but she thought, "I might as well keep on now," and pattered away once more on her tired little paws to a farm on the border of the town, where lay a beautiful field of young lettuce, watched over by a funny old scarecrow in a red waistcoat and shabby hat, who stood there to frighten away the birds that destroyed the delicate leaves.

"He looks rather cross," thought Kitty, as she approached this figure, and her heart went pitapat as she stopped, and began, "Mew! mew!"

"Hey! hey!" cried the scarecrow, whirling round, for he thought it was a cat-bird.

"Please, Mr. Crow, don't scare me," stammered Kitty; "for I am only a kitten; and, oh, do please give me a head of your nice lettuce for Nanny the goat."

"And what will she give you for it?" asked the scarecrow.

"Some milk for the pea-nut woman to put in her tea."

"And what will the pea-nut woman give you?"

"A handful of pea-nuts for Jack the monkey."

"And what will Master Jack give you?"

"A penny to buy a marrow-bone for Ratty Terrier."

"Who will probably bite off your head for your pains."

"Oh no, indeed. He has promised to kill the wicked rat that steals our food for me; and then Tabby and Sancho will give me back the beautiful medal I won at the cat show."

"You are winning it twice, I think; but can you frighten birds?"

"Oh yes, indeed."

"Well, then, just scare away that old crow over there, who has no respect for me, and feasts in the field here under my very eyes, and I will give you a head of lettuce."

"That I will, right gladly," said Kitty; and she rushed the crow with such vigor that he almost choked to death in his fright, and flew away so far that he could never find his way back again.

"Thank you very much," said the scarecrow, when Kitty came back quite breathless from the race, and with her nose as red as a rose-bud. "I can manage all the other birds myself. Now help yourself to a head of lettuce."

Kitty did as she was told; and bidding the old scarecrow, who was so much kinder than he looked, "good-night," hurried away to Nanny the goat, who shook her horns with delight at sight of the fresh young leaves, and gave the kitten some milk in an egg-shell, and also a drink for herself.

The toothless old woman, who had just made up her mind to take her tea clear, was as pleased as she was surprised at the milk pussy brought her, but forgot all about the pea-nuts, until Kitty patted them with her paw. "Oh! Do you want pea-nuts? You shall have them; help yourself to a good handful. You deserve them for being such a smart little cat, and bringing me just what I wanted."

Away went Kitty with her mouth and paws full of nuts, at receiving which the monkey chattered like a whole flock of magpies, and gave her the brightest penny he had in his pocket.

"So you've brought the penny!" exclaimed the butcher, in open-mouthed astonishment, as Kitty laid it in front of him, and seizing the marrow-bone, made off before he could say so much as "Scat!"

"Bow-wow-wow! you deserve a medal, and that's a fact," said Ratty Terrier, wagging his tail at sight of the bone which fairly made his mouth water. And after he had devoured half of it, and hidden the rest in his under-ground store-house, he set out on the promised rat-hunt.

And oh! a fierce battle took place that night, for the old thief fought bravely, and the terrier received many a deep scratch on his saucy little nose, but he came off victor at last, and the rat's head, carefully wrapped in a large leaf, was sent next morning to little Kitty Kimo, who gayly delivered it to the other cats, all of whom rejoiced over the death of their enemy.

"You have well earned your prize at last," said Granny Grimalkin, after Kitty had related her adventures, "for you are as persevering as you are pretty." And Tabby Tortoiseshell herself tied the blue ribbon round Kitty Kimo's neck, while Mademoiselle Catalina Squallita led off in a gay chorus in which all joined, the principal burden of which was, "Me-ow, me-ow-ow, me-ow-ow-ow."

Kitty Kimo was never known to put on airs again, but was always willing to lend her medal to Pussy Clover or Topsy Titmouse to wear to balls or serenades, and she was known far and wide as the Prize Kitten, and the brightest and prettiest cat of the square.

DEDHAM, MASSACHUSETTS.

I am a grandmother, eighty-four years old, and I wish to tell the dear readers of YOUNG PEOPLE of an episode in the life of my three little grandchildren.

The youngest, a boy, when two years old, had a canary given him. He and two sisters older than he delighted in watching and feeding the little pet, seeing him plunge into his bowl of water to wash, and then sitting on his perch to brush his bright plumage and give them a sweet morning song.

One hot morning his cage was hung out under the portico. The bees, attracted by his sweet food, flew into the cage for some honey to fill the curious cells they had made. The birdie looked upon them as intruders, and probably pecked at them, but the little busy bees, claiming their right to gather honey anywhere in God's wide domain, covered him with stings. Hearing a loud buzzing, we went out to see what had happened. The bird was covered with bees, and before we could rescue it, they had poisoned it so badly that it gasped a few minutes, and died.

When the children found their pet was dead, after gazing very sorrowfully for a while, they got a spade, and without saying a word, took the dead bird and marched slowly to the garden. The sisters dug a grave, and the little boy laid his pet in its last resting-place, and silently covered it with earth.

S. H.

* * * * *

RICHMOND, STATEN ISLAND.

This is the first letter I ever wrote to any paper. I am only seven years old.

Papa has one of the funniest crows you ever saw. He tries to talk. We had to cut his wing, because he used to fly away.

My little sister Lucy, who is almost four years old, sends YOUNG PEOPLE a picture she drew. It has four kisses on it. We love the Post-office Box best of all.

HALLETT S.

I have a garden of my own. I fixed it all myself, and I planted seeds in it. They are coming up nicely.

I went eeling with my little brother Hallett, and we caught enough for dinner.

WILLIE S.

* * * * *

NEW CASTLE, KENTUCKY.

I live out in the country four miles. I read all the letters in the Post-office Box, and I am so much interested in them! I am reading _Robinson Crusoe_ now, and I like it so much!

We had a very long winter. It snowed fifty or sixty times. We have such nice times in the summer. Sometimes we all go down to Drennon Creek, and take our dinners, and stay all day.

I wrote a composition on Toby Tyler.

CHARLIE S.

* * * * *

PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA.

I live here with my aunt, and I go to school. I have not seen my mother or father for two years, but mother is coming soon. My father is Captain of Company H, Eleventh United States Infantry. He is in Montana Territory, at Fort Custer, not far from the place where General Custer was killed by Sitting Bull and his tribe. The fort is on a hill between the Little and Big Horn rivers. Bismarck is the nearest railroad station, but a railroad is going to be built nearer. Then the station will be Big Horn City or Terry's Landing. Big Horn City is a small place, with only one store and a few houses. Terry's Landing is a kind of fort. It has breastworks and a stockade. It is a landing-place for boats, and one company is stationed there. It is near Fort Custer, and every year the company there is changed.

I have the skin of a wild-cat that was killed out in the Big Horn Mountains. It is a great deal bigger than that of an ordinary cat. It measures three feet three inches from head to tail, and fourteen inches round. It has claws like a cat.

WILLIAM S. G.

* * * * *

WOODBURY, NEW JERSEY.

I have two cunning little gray squirrels, named Frisky and Fluff. They are not tame enough to be let out of their cage. The other day somebody left the cage door open, and the window in the room was wide open. When mamma came up stairs, there sat Mr. Frisky on the door-sill, looking very much as if he meant to run away. When he saw mamma, he scampered into his bed, and she locked the cage door pretty quickly. I am only six years old, and my hand is tired writing.

FLORENCE R. H.

* * * * *

PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA.

I wish to notify correspondents that I have no more stamps to exchange. I have had over one hundred letters to answer, and each day brings more. Several have sent stamps, but no address, so that I can not return them.

YOUNG PEOPLE must go to all parts of the world, as the answers to my offer of exchange testify.

MADGIE B. RAUCH.

* * * * *

My old issues of United States stamps are all gone, but I will exchange some green 2-cent revenue stamps, and foreign postage stamps, for 7, 12, 24, 30, or 90 cent stamps of any issue, for coins, stamps from Africa, China, or South or Central America, or for any department stamps except 1, 3, and 6 cent Treasury.

CHARLES W. TALLMAN, P. O. Drawer 5, Hillsdale, Mich.

* * * * *

I have had so many applications for my Sandwich Island stamps that my stock is exhausted.

I will now exchange stamps from Porto Rico, Cuba, Jamaica, Barbadoes, Hong-Kong, Japan, Cape of Good Hope, Egypt, India, Bavaria, and "Thurn und Taxis," for other rare stamps and for coins; South American and African stamps particularly desired. I will also give twenty-five foreign stamps for two good arrow-heads.

SHEPPARD G. SCHERMERHORN, 46 West Nineteenth Street, New York City.

* * * * *

I wish to notify correspondents that I have no more postmarks left.

I have a number of Jules Verne's stories in pamphlet form which I would like to exchange. I will give one for a United States cent, date 1840 or 1846, or for a half-cent of any date but 1851. I will send the complete story of _A Voyage Around the World_ for the cents between 1833 and 1837.

ROLAND GODFREY, Gardner, Centre P. O., Worcester Co., Mass.

* * * * *

My stock of foreign stamps is exhausted. I will now give ten United States postmarks for five from any foreign country, or from Nevada, Arizona, Idaho, or Washington Territory. I will exchange even for postmarks from other States.

LAWRENCE B. JONES, P. O. Box 1036, Wilkesbarre, Penn.