Chapter 2

Little Katy Kegan had the blackest hair and eyes you ever saw, and she was very pretty, with color like the cream and red of the lady-apples packed in tempting pyramids in the fruit stalls. She was the kind of girl who keeps you always expecting, without your knowing what it is you expect. Katy was very bright, quick as a dart in her motions, but as rough and sharp as a prickly-brier if things didn't go to suit her. She had all the bad habits which friendless little children learn from living on the streets, with no one to care what they do or how they feel. She was saucy and bold, and used very bad words, and thought it smart to steal fruit and pea-nuts when she could; and she would tell a lie about her thefts, or indeed about anything else, as glibly as a toad swallows a fly. If you ever saw that done, you know that it is pretty swiftly done; and just as a toad, when it has swallowed a fly, looks as if it had never so much as heard of such an insect, so Katy, when she told a lie, would look straight at you, and smile with an air of such innocence that you would find it hard to not believe her. These sad faults were Katy's misfortunes. She did not know how wrong they were.

But you can see, if you think a moment, that such habits would be a great trouble in the way of her finding a home, because good people would not like to take a little child with such naughty ways into their homes, to be with their own dear children. Still, Katy's pretty face and bright mind, and the love she was so quick to give to any one who was kind to her, made people feel like trying to see what they could do for her.

Three times Mr. Kennedy placed Katy in good homes, in the care of noble people, who wished to help him in such work. In each instance Katy had been loved, because she was so bright and sweet and lovable when she felt like being so; but her sudden fits of anger, and the strange and naughty things she would say and do, made her new friends feel anxious and troubled. Yet Katy had never been sent away from these homes. Perhaps she might have been, but she never waited for that; she ran away of her own accord each time, without saying a word about it, and nothing that Biddy or Mr. Kennedy could say could make Katy agree to go back when once she had run away.

One day Miss Kennedy, who had thought a great deal about this willful child, said to her brother, "Don't be discouraged about Katy; you and Biddy will save the dear little thing yet."

"But I do feel a little discouraged," said Mr. Kennedy. "You see, she is so uncertain; she's tricky as a kitten, and you can never tell what she'll be at next. If the trouble only all came to us, you know, we would be glad to bear it, for there is something very dear about little Katy that pays for care and bother. But how can I go on asking our friends to put up with such a little harum-scarum? And she _will_ take things that don't belong to her, and she will deny it. I really don't know what to do."

Biddy sat sewing, but she listened, and looked very earnest. Miss Kennedy smiled.

"I've thought of something, Phil," said she. "I think we have been making a mistake all along in fixing things too easy and pleasant for Katy. I think she needs to have a weight put on her."

"A weight? How do you mean?"

"Well, I mean this. Katy is very loving, and she is more full of active, bounding life than any one I ever saw. I don't think she wants to have things done for her; I think she wants to do things herself. I think she needs to feel that some one, in some real plain way, depends on her, needs her, so that she can not do without her. I have seen feelings in Katy that make me think a weight of this kind would hold her."

Mr. Kennedy looked pleased, and sat some moments thinking. Then he asked: "Well, sister, how will you find such a weight for Katy? I wouldn't like to have her bright wings too closely clipped."

"I've thought of that, Phil, and I've thought it would be well to let Biddy--Katy loves Biddy with all her warm little heart--to let Biddy coax her to go to Mrs. Raynor."

"Mrs. Raynor!" cried Phil.

"I know you are thinking of such a madcap as Katy in Jenny Baynor's sick-room. But that is just my reason. I've talked with Mrs. Raynor, and she is quite willing to try Katy, if we can only get her there to be tried. If there's any one in this world who can tame Katy's wild humors and turn them to good uses, it is Mrs. Raynor. And Jenny needs some one to care for her all the time. Katy can not help loving them, and between them I think they will find a way to hold Katy till she grows to see what a little girl's life means."

The very next day Biddy went out to look for wayward Katy, for it was Katy's having run away again from her third home which had led to this talk between Mr. Kennedy and his sister. Biddy found Katy sitting on some steps on Fulton Street, eating pea-nuts, and tossing up the shells. She looked so happy that Biddy felt a new wonder about her. She remembered how she had longed for a home, and here was Katy liking nothing so well as to run about the streets, and seeming to think home was a great bother. Suddenly a thought came to Biddy, and made her say, quickly, as she reached Katy, "Oh, Katy, did you ever have a doll?"

"Hallo! that you?" said Katy. "Want some pea-nuts? No, I never had no dawl--don't want no dawl--seen lots of 'em--think they're silly. Dawls is only pretendin'--Hallo! catch 'em;" and she tossed a handful of pea-nuts to Biddy.

Biddy sat down on the steps by Katy, and told her as kindly as she could that she wanted her to try once more to like a good home. She held a bit of Katy's skirt in her hand, for fear Katy would run; but she did not think Katy knew she had hold of her dress, till Katy said, "No need to hold on to me--ain't goin' to run."

"Oh, Katy, what have you done with your pretty shoes?" exclaimed Biddy.

"Guv 'em to gal 'at wanted 'em--likes to go barefoot," said Katy, promptly; then she turned her black eyes on Biddy with a queer, sharp look, and said, "Needn't ask no more queshshuns--sha'n't answer."

After a little more talk, in which Katy insisted that she didn't think she could stay in a home, though she was willin' to try, 'cause she liked to see insides of houses, they started off together.

The Raynors lived in a larger and more beautiful house than the Kennedys, and a well-behaved maid showed the children into a room which was so dark that Biddy and Katy could hardly see anything at first. Biddy felt Katy twitch at her hand as if she would dart off and rush out into the merry sunlight again. All the way up stairs Katy had been making droll faces at the maid, who went on before them, and mimicking her walk in the funniest manner. Biddy had not seemed to notice, though she had found it hard not to laugh right out at Katy's mischief. Now Biddy held fast to the little hand that wriggled in hers, and as their eyes grew used to the dimness, they saw a large bed with folds of lace hanging around, but drawn away at the sides, and in this bed lay the whitest little girl they had ever seen, with soft eyes looking at them kindly, and close to them was a tall, handsome lady. But what ailed Biddy?

She looked at the white-faced child in the bed, and she looked at the lady. A flush came in Biddy's cheek, and her eyes opened so wide they were almost as round as marbles. It was the most puzzled little face Mrs. Raynor had ever seen.

"I expected you, and I'm very glad to see you," said she.

In an instant Biddy turned and threw her arms around Katy, who stared, and looked as if she would "cut," as she called it when she ran away.

"Oh, Katy! Katy!" said Biddy, with a queer little quick shake in her voice, "it's the hospital lady, and the hospital little girl that gave me the flowers!" Jenny Raynor's eyes were getting to be as round as Biddy's had been. "Oh, don't you remember the little bit of a girl that was run over, and lay in the hospital on Christmas-day, ever and ever so long ago?" cried Biddy.

Biddy stopped, as had always been her way when feeling became very strong. Mrs. Raynor made her sit down by the bed, and then put out her hand to Katy, who stood so still in the centre of the room. All the bright color had gone out of Katy's cheeks, so that her black eyes looked darker than ever. She staid just where she was, she put her hands down in her apron pockets, raising her small shoulders in doing so. She was the picture of a little elf that might vanish if any one stirred. She looked at Biddy, and said, "Is that gal in the bed the hospital gal what guv ye the flowers?"

Biddy said, "Yes."

"What's matter of 'er?"

"She has been sick a long time," said Mrs. Raynor.

"Stay in bed all time?" asked Katy, still looking at Biddy.

"Oh yes; I shall never get up any more," said Jenny Raynor. "Will you come up here, close to me, little girl?" Katy came forward a little. "Miss Kennedy says you like to run about a great deal," said Jenny; "I used to like that very much."

Katy came close to the bed. She took her hands out of her pockets; they were full of pea-nuts. She laid them on the bed, and nodded to Biddy. "I'll stay here," said she.

And Katy Kegan kept her word. She didn't get over her faults right off. She had a hard fight with them; but for the first time in her life she tried hard to get rid of them, and soon showed she had great strength to do what she had made up her mind to do.

But Miss Kennedy was right. All Katy had needed was to _be needed_. This was her "weight."

She was the very best thing that could have been brought into Jenny Raynor's sad and shut-up life. Jenny was a good little girl, but no little child can be easily content and cheerful who can not go out into the sunlight, and enjoy the sweet full life of the birds and flowers, and the merry games with other little girls and boys. It is very hard for a child to lie always in bed, and be shut out from all other children's lives. Now Katy Kegan was so wild, so merry, so constantly full and running over with bright ideas of how to get fun out of everything and anything, that she was a whole play-ground in her one little self; and she brought all this life into the room where Jenny lay, and made a new world for Jenny there. Katy was as good as a theatre, for she imitated people, and did it quite wonderfully, so that Jenny could tell just whom she meant; that is, if she had ever seen the person Katy was taking off. And Katy would show her all that she had seen or noticed on the street, in just this way by imitating, so that Jenny seemed almost to make new acquaintances with people whom she had never really seen, by means of Katy's droll mimicry. When Katy saw how all her pranks and fun made Jenny laugh and look so pleased, she took good care to find out some fresh thing to amuse her with whenever she went out.

When Jenny Raynor gave the flowers to poor Biddy in the hospital so long ago, she could not know that the little kindness would come back to her a thousandfold through another little girl whom she had then never seen at all.

Least of all would you imagine that an old broken-armed doll fished out of an ash-can could be the means of doing so much good, and leading to so much happiness in so many lives. For the good that began in these little things goes on, and may reach into countless lives in time to come. Nothing stops, and nothing stands quite apart by itself from other things. You will find this out, and think of it more and more, as you grow older. As for Biddy O'Dolan, she is quite a young woman now. Of course she does not play with her doll any more. But she keeps it. No money could buy it, with that little wooden arm on it which Charley made. She calls it her first friend, and I think it was a very good friend, don't you?

THE END.

ALICE'S QUESTION.

Softly, gently upward A strain from the organ floats, And the children at play in the nursery Listen awhile to the notes,

Stop, and are silent a moment-- They are almost tired of play, And the shadows of evening are falling, Making twilight out of the day.

Then down the broad old staircase Comes the patter of little feet, And in through the open doorway, Drawn by the sounds so sweet.

Then close to the organ stealing, With awe-struck eyes they gaze At the player, and listen mutely To the deep clear notes of praise.

Then drawing nearer and nearer, Made bold by the twilight gray, Little Alice looks up, and whispers, "Did God teach you how to play?"

THE CARE OF PARROTS.

Parrots are among the most intelligent of household pets, and much attention should be bestowed upon them. So large a bird suffers if kept constantly confined in a cage, but a parrot is so destructive that it is impossible to allow it the liberty of a house, as chairs, carpets, in short, every article of furniture, will soon show the marks of its strong beak. If there is a garden, the parrot should be given a daily promenade during warm weather. It is a necessity to this bird to exercise its beak, and if kept in a cage, it should often be given a chip of wood to tear to pieces. A parrot will amuse itself for hours biting a chip into small fragments. The cage and feed dishes should be thoroughly cleaned every day, and fresh gravel kept in the bottom of the cage.

Parrots are fond of canary and hemp seed, and should always have fresh water, in which a little cracker may be soaked. A little sweetened weak coffee and milk, with bread crumbed in it, may be given about once a week. Apples, pears, and oranges are healthy food, and should always have the seeds left in, as a parrot will eat those first, carefully peeling them, and devour the meat afterward. A slice of lemon and a small red pepper should be given occasionally, also English walnuts.

Cleanliness is essential to the health of a parrot, and as it will not bathe itself like most other birds, it should occasionally be stood in a pan containing an inch or two of tepid water, and its back sprinkled gently. The bird will scream and rebel, but will feel better after it. It should be left in its bath for a few moments only (as it easily gets chilled), and then placed on its perch, where it can not feel any wind, to dry and plume itself. During a warm summer shower it is well to stand the cage out-of-doors for a short time. The parrot will usually spread its wings to receive the drops, and scream with delight, as that is its natural way of bathing. Parrots have very tender feet, and they often suffer if their claws are not kept perfectly clean. The perch should on this account be wiped dry every day. Meat, or anything greasy, is harmful to a parrot, and parsley will kill it, although lettuce, and especially green peas in the pod, are healthy diet.

Parrots are almost always savage to strangers, but so affectionate to the person who tends them that they fully repay for the care bestowed upon them.

PENCIL DRAWING, No. 2.

Simple as it may seem to draw _leaves_, there must be care, and patience, and faithful effort. After a while, the young student who _succeeds_ will go on to _flower_ drawing, which is more difficult, but very delightful, and will be illustrated by-and-by.

At present we must try _easy leaves_. I make a few illustrations, enough to begin with. Nos. 1, 2, and 3 are fuchsia leaves; No. 4, oxalis. These may be drawn again and again. A whole page of fuchsia leaves of different sizes is very pretty, and so of any leaf. By a skillful hand they may be arranged with artistic grace.

Attention to a few points will give a precision and interest to the drawing. Let the drawing be _lightly_ rather than heavily done. Learn to draw the _double lines_ of _stems_ and _veins_ with great correctness. Make a darker line on the under edge of leaves, and on one side of the stems. By turning the leaf on the wrong side the veins can be distinctly seen, and easily drawn. Do not be discouraged, but _persevere_. Begin to-morrow, or to-day: these beginnings may help you to become a skillful sketcher, and will give to you a delightful occupation that will grow dearer to your heart every day of your life.

This number of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE completes the thirteen issues promised to subscribers to HARPER'S WEEKLY for 1880, and is therefore the last number to be sent out with that paper. Any one of our little friends who may thus be deprived of a weekly visit from HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, and who wishes to continue acquaintance with us, may receive the remaining thirty-two numbers of our first volume, which will conclude with the number dated October 26, 1880, by sending One Dollar to the publishers, who will, on receipt of that amount, forward these numbers weekly, postage free, to any address in the United States or Canada. Those who wish the back numbers, as well as the remainder of the volume, should send One Dollar and Fifty Cents, the price of a year's subscription. The publishers renew their assurance that they will make every effort to please their young patrons by providing weekly an attractive and instructive variety of illustrated reading.

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LOCKPORT, ILLINOIS.

I saw in YOUNG PEOPLE a letter from Edwin A. H., telling about his cabinet. Although I have been collecting only three years I have quite a cabinet. It contains a sea-cow, which measures fourteen inches from the tip of its tail to the nose. It is larger than any I have ever seen either in Chicago, New York, or Canada. That and a sea-horse came from Cuba. I have also some fine specimens of different corals and sponges; a box of agates and other stones from Africa; some beautiful specimens of quartz from the Rocky Mountains; a specimen from the Matanzas Cave in Cuba; a collection of Indian arrow-heads; a variety of petrifactions, among them a very large, perfect trilobite; a few very old coins, four of which, I think, are from Pompeii; a collection of foreign stamps; shells from California, Cuba, and other places; and other things I have no room to mention. Can any one tell me how I can obtain some really good specimens of minerals? And is the whale that arrived at the New York Aquarium last summer alive yet?

L. H. N.

Are any correspondents informed about the health and present condition of the whale?

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TALLAHASSEE, FLORIDA.

I write to tell you about my collection of minerals. I am now ten years old. I commenced to collect when I was nine. My minerals are very fine, and I took the three-dollar premium for them at the fair.

WILLIAM L. BETTON.

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CINCINNATI, OHIO.

I am a little girl thirteen years old. I live in Ann Arbor, Michigan, but I am spending the winter in Cincinnati. I take YOUNG PEOPLE, and like it very much. I am collecting curiosities, but I have no Proteus.

GRACE D. HALL.

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MACON, GEORGIA.

I will write and tell you what a warm winter we have had. There were strawberries and peach blossoms in January, and now we have many kinds of flowers blooming in the gardens. I am writing St. Valentine's Day, and I and my two sisters, Bessie and Kate, have had several pretty valentines.

LAURA C. PARMELEE (9 years).

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"BAY CLIFF," LONG ISLAND.

I am a little boy ten years old, and live by the water. I have a nice little row-boat named _Broadbill_, with patent oars. I have a Shetland pony named Fanny. She is about three feet high, and is very kind and gentle, and I can ride or drive her. My guinea-pig is also a pet. I feed it cabbage leaves, carrots, boiled potatoes, and lettuce.

E. T. I.

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BROOKLYN, NEW YORK.

My most cunning pet is a guinea-pig named Tip, who creeps under my arm and goes to sleep. I put cabbage and celery in a train of cars and run across the floor; Tip gallops after and steals the leaves, stops to munch them, and then races for more.

ARTHUR A. CRANDELL.

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MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN.

I have had experience with guinea-pigs, and I thought I would tell Mark Francis what mine eat. They like all kinds of green vegetables, such as lettuce and cabbage, but they like grass better than anything else; I can not give them enough. The only cooked food they like is Graham bread and oatmeal mush. Sometimes they eat oats and apples. My auntie has kept them for fifteen years, and she never gave them any water. She says if they want water, they are sick. They are always very sensitive to the cold.

GRACE B. PETERSON.

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NEW YORK CITY.

I have been reading all the letters from little girls and boys about their pets, and I must tell them about mine. I have a little kitten named "Buttercup," and she is just as sweet and pretty as any buttercup that ever grew, and so good and so cunning. She will jump upon the bureau and watch the canary, and he will peck at her with his little bill, and she does not even look cross at him, and we know she would not ruffle a feather for all the world. I wonder if any other little girl can leave her kitten with her birds, and know she will not hurt them? And you should see her go to the mirror and look at herself--just like any lady--and she seems to think herself so pretty, I am really afraid she is vain. There are so many other things I could tell about her, but mamma says you will not print my letter if I write any more.

ELLA SELWYN.

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BRADLEY, MICHIGAN, _February 18_.

I found a willow bush covered with "pussies" yesterday. The rabbits never run up to me when I whistle, like the one Laura B. wrote about. They stop and turn around and look at me, and then they just snap their eyes and scoot.

FRANK C. NOURSE.

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I am only seven years old, and I live way out in Fort Klamath, Oregon, and I can't write a very good letter, but I like the stories in YOUNG PEOPLE, and the letters in the Post-office from little children so much. It is nice to be out here where there is so much snow to have fun with. I have a pair of snow-shoes, a little brother, and a pet dog to play with, besides lots of other things. I don't go to school, because there is no school here, but I say my lessons to mamma every day.

SOPHIE L. W.

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DAVENPORT, IOWA.

I am going to write this all myself. I have a pony. His name is Dick. We all love him dearly. He shakes hands. We say, "Shake hands, Dick," and he puts up his right foot. He is just as sweet as honey. He is white. We used to live on a farm, and my sister and I used to go after the cows on Dick. We carried a long whip. Some cows would lag behind, and we would say, "Bite the cow, Dick," and the dear little fellow would lay back his white ears and just bite her awful hard. We are going to have a cabinet picture taken of him.

GRACE H. (9 years).

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SCHENECTADY, NEW YORK.

I am five years old. I have a blue terrier--Wax. He plays hide-and-seek. Mamma covers his eyes with her hand, and I hide. When I say, "Coop," mamma lets him go. Then he rushes all round, standing on his hind-legs to look on tables, and peeping under the couch, and looking upon chairs. When he finds me, he begins to bark loud, and tries to bite my toes, but he has very few teeth. He is old.

ROGER GRISWOLD PERKINS.

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ALBANY, NEW YORK.

I am a boy who have recently come to the city from the country. I have a young Skye-terrier, and he gives me much trouble by running away every time the hall door is opened. Then I have to run after him. As he can run the fastest, it is hard work for me, but fun for him. People must think I have two dogs, for when he goes out he is a blue dog, and when he comes back he is mud-color. When we give him a good washing, he is blue again. He likes to play, and I would be lonesome without him.

DWIGHT RUGGLES.

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PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA.

I saw in the Post-office letters one from a little boy who had two Maltese cats, and one of them was very fond of pea-nuts. I had a beautiful black and white kitty, in Centennial year, that would follow me round whenever I came from the Exhibition, begging for the sugared balls of pop-corn I always brought home with me. I had another kitty afterward that was just as fond of candy. They are both dead now, and I have no pets. I am nine years old.

FLORENCE OZIAS.

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C. H. WILLIAMSON.--All of Jacob Abbott's books for the young are in print. Valuable works on Long Island history have been published by the Long Island Historical Society of Brooklyn. Hitchcock's _Geology_ and Gray's _Lessons in Botany_ will be of service to you.

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C. F. ALLEN.--Danger Island is in the Chagos Archipelago, on the west end of the great Chagos Bank, Indian Ocean.

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Here is a very pretty experiment, sent by F. V. G., Madison, Wisconsin: "Take an ordinary water-pail. Lay across the top two pieces of stout wire, about two inches apart. Then lay a lump of ice on the wires. In about half an hour go and look at it, and you will find that the wires pass through the middle of the lump of ice, but you can not see how they came there."

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The following tribute to the egg tombola is from Ella W.:

From an egg, shot, and tallow, with care, A merry tombola I soon did prepare; I brushed up his locks in a very fine way, And dressed him in garments of nice sober gray; And when he was ready all came to admire, So portly was he that I called him the Squire.

I then laid him down to measure, and see Whether standing or lying the tallest he'd be; When he lifted himself with a nod and a bound, Rocked backward and forward and balanced around. The giddy tombola! he will not lie down; It's useless to urge such a funny old clown.

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MADISON COOPER.--The direction given to Charley D. M., in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 18, will probably apply to your fish.

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ELLA FULLER and HELEN THOMPSON.--We fear there is no remedy for your unfortunate animals.

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HENRY B. H.--Excellent directions for the construction of a cheap telescope are given in YOUNG PEOPLE No. 1.

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CHARLES CONNER.--We can not undertake any such commissions.

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J. R. FOSTER.--Pages of advertisements are almost always given in weekly papers. You will find them in every bound volume of HARPER'S WEEKLY, and similar publications.

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"NORTH STAR."--You understand the art of making puzzles, but you must be more careful with your spelling. There is only one "e" in cathedral.

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ALBERT MULLEN.--Box-wood only is used by engravers on wood, as it has a fine grain and the requisite hardness. It can be got out in small pieces only, and these are either glued or screwed together to form large blocks. When a picture is to be engraved in haste, the block is taken apart and the pieces are given to several engravers, in order to save time. Sometimes thirty or more engravers are employed at once on a single block.

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LEONARD S. E.--If you send four cents in postage stamps to the publishers the number you require will be forwarded to you.

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A. H. ELLARD.--Your handwriting is very neat and distinct for a boy of your age. In a Numerical Charade each figure represents a letter of the solution. Supposing the answer to be "America," you could make "car" from the sixth, seventh, and fourth letters, and proceed in this way until you had used every letter of the solution.

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JAMES W. C., H. W. G., and OTHERS.--Thanks for your kind letters, but we have decided to use no more puzzles referring in any way to ourselves. We also wish to remind some of you that enigmas must be in rhyme, otherwise they can not be printed. Do not take your own name nor the names of any of your friends to form a puzzle, because children to whom you are entire strangers could never guess it. Be careful to use new solutions in making puzzles; and when you see that we have already published one on Washington, Bonaparte, or the name of any other celebrated man, do not send us a repetition. We pay no attention to puzzles not accompanied by full answers.

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Willow "pussies" are to be found now in almost all localities, judging from the many reports sent us by our youthful correspondents. Crocuses have pushed upward to the spring sunshine, and rose bushes are beginning to send out tender green shoots. "Pussies" have been reported by C. H. W., Mary M. R., Joe Ward, and many others; and Louis C. Vogt sends a twig of these pretty downy tokens of spring, which he accompanies with a very neatly printed letter. It is now time to begin to watch for violets and anemones, and other early flowers.

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Answers to question by S. R. W. in Post-office Box, No. 17, are received from "North Star," W. F. Bruns, Harry V. G., Florence B., E. L. M., Freddie H., Kittie A. R., "Mystic," and others. Eight words have been sent. They are Scion, Suspicion, Coercion, Pernicion, Epinicion, Internecion, Ostracion, Cestracion; these are all to be found in Worcester's Dictionary. There is also Cion, which is synonymous with Scion. There are, besides, several obsolete words with the same ending not to be found in modern English dictionaries.

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Favors are acknowledged from Charlie Markward, Willie H. McVean, Amy L. Orr, Harry C. Peck, Edward L. Haines, Percy and George, Alma Hoffmann, Rebecca Hedges, Willie C. S., Alice E. Stephenson, Lottie C. Underhill, Bessie L. Stewart, Jennie Clark, Charlie A. Mather, H. H. Pitcairn, Nellie G. Vaughn, J. D., Willie R. H., Frank Coniston, Mina L. C., Lyman C., Willie B. A., Leonie Young, Mamie Brooke, James Walker, Katie Black, Henry Koehler, G. Walter Burnham, Effie E. P., Geraldine Watson, Ray Bennett, Anabel Turner, Freddie C., Arthur B., R. L. R.

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Numerous correspondents have sent new answers to our Puzzle Picture in No. 14; and although many have given nine names, but two, Florence Ozias and Mark Robbins, have found D-rill, the mischievous monkey concealed by our artist.

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Correct answers to puzzles received from E. T. Smith, George H. Churchill, Mamie E. F., Herbert N. Twing, Fannie T., and Belle M., Leonard S. E., Effie K. Talboys, E. P. Walker, J. F. Sullivan, H. S. T., Gracie Flint, W. Robertson, Katie Wentz, Millie Benson, Ella W., Nellie Bartlett, Goldie Williams, W. H. Kurtz, Henry Cullyford, J. H. Crosman, Jun., Stella, Jay H. M., L. L. Lee, Marie Doyle, Gracie K. Richards.

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Answer to Charade in No. 17, on page 216--Fishball.

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PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

NUMERICAL CHARADE.

I am composed of 12 letters. My 1, 3, 4 is a measure. My 6, 2, 9, 12 is a girl's name. My 11, 10, 4, 8, 3, 6, 5 is a young reptile. My 1, 7, 11 is a small animal. My whole is a South American river.

CHESLY B. H.

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No. 2.

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

A small rope. A scent. A question often asked. Variegated. To clasp. Water. Answer--two English poets.

M. L.

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No. 3.

ENIGMA.

My first is in loss, but not in gain. My second is in France, but not in Spain. My third is in sling, but not in stung. My fourth is in old, and also in young. My fifth is in Venus, but not in Mars. My whole is composed of beautiful stars.

ALFRED W. S.

* * * * *

No. 4.

RHOMBOID.

Across--A descent; a bench; to clip; to hold. Down--In flap; a preposition; to allow; a bird; a knot; a pronoun; in flap.

N. L. COLLAMER.

* * * * *

No. 5.

WORD SQUARE.

First, manner of walking. Second, a movement of the ocean. Third, to manage a publication. Fourth, tame animals.

NELLIE B.

* * * * *

No. 6.

DIAMOND PUZZLE.

A vowel. An animal. A well-known fruit. A man's name. A vowel.

H. N. T.

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A Fool's Errand.

By One of the Fools.

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The Child's Book of Nature.

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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. Part II. Animals. Part III. Air, Water, Heat, Light, &c. By WORTHINGTON HOOKER, M.D. Illustrated. The Three Parts complete in One Volume, Small 4to, Half Leather, $1.31; or, separately, in Cloth, Part I., 53 cents; Part II., 56 cents; Part III., 56 cents.

* * * * *

A beautiful and useful work. It presents a general survey of the kingdom of nature in a manner adapted to attract the attention of the child, and at the same time to furnish him with accurate and important scientific information. While the work is well suited as a class-book for schools, its fresh and simple style cannot fail to render it a great favorite for family reading.

The Three Parts of this book can be had in separate volumes by those who desire it. This will be advisable when the book is to be used in teaching quite young children, especially in schools.

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Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York.

_Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, on receipt of the price._

BOOKS FOR YOUNG MEN.

* * * * *

Character.

Character. By SAMUEL SMILES. 12mo, Cloth, $1.00.

It is, in design and execution, more like his "Self-Help" than any of his other works. Mr. Smiles always writes pleasantly, but he writes best when he is telling anecdotes, and using them to enforce a moral that he is too wise to preach about, although he is not afraid to state it plainly. By means of it "Self-Help" at once became a standard book, and "Character" is, in its way, quite as good as "Self-Help." It is a wonderful storehouse of anecdotes and biographical illustrations.--_Examiner_, London.

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Self-Help.

Self-Help; with Illustrations of Character, Conduct, and Perseverance. By SAMUEL SMILES. New Edition, Revised and Enlarged. 12mo, Cloth, $1.00.

The writings of Samuel Smiles are a valuable aid in the education of boys. His style seems to have been constructed entirely for their tastes; his topics are admirably selected, and his mode of communicating excellent lessons of enterprise, truth, and self-reliance might be called insidious and ensnaring if these words did not convey an idea which is only applicable to lessons of an opposite character and tendency taught in the same attractive style. The popularity of this book, "Self-Help," abroad has made it a powerful instrument of good, and many an English boy has risen from its perusal determined that his life will be moulded after that of some of those set before him in this volume. It was written for the youth of another country, but its wealth of instruction has been recognized by its translation into more than one European language, and it is not too much to predict for it a popularity among American boys.--_N. Y. World._

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Thrift.

Thrift. By SAMUEL SMILES. 12mo, Cloth, $1.00.

The mechanic, farmer, apprentice, clerk, merchant, and a large circle of readers outside of these classes will find in the volume a wide range of counsel and advice, presented in perspicuous language, and marked throughout by vigorous good sense; and who, while deriving from it useful lessons for the guidance of their personal affairs, will also be imbibing valuable instruction in an important branch of political economy. We wish it could be placed in the hands of all our youth--especially those who expect to be merchants, artisans, or farmers.--_Christian Intelligencer_, N. Y.

In this useful and sensible work, which should be in the hands of all classes of readers, especially of those whose means are slender, the author does for private economy what Smith and Ricardo and Bastiat have done for national economy. * * * The one step which separates civilization from savagery--which renders civilization possible--is labor done in excess of immediate necessity. * * * To inculcate this most necessary and most homely of all virtues, we have met with no better teacher than this book.--_N. Y. World._

* * * * *

Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York.

_Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, on receipt of the price._

THE TRAMP PUZZLE.

With one straight cut of the scissors get out of this tramp a handsome Persian and a sea-cow.

A PERSONATION: WHO AM I?

My enemies declare I was alike faithless to friend or foe; my partisans, that I was a martyr. In either case, I expiated my follies and weaknesses with my life, as had my grandmother before me. I was born at Dunfermline, November 19, 1600, and died January 30, 1649--not an old man, as you see. I was heir to great possessions, and held a high position, but I lost land, fortune, and honor. When young, my great friend, also a favorite with my father, obtained a hold on me, and induced me, as soon as I succeeded my father in my inheritance, to begin my career by paying no heed to my people's wishes. I was very obstinate, and as determined as my people to carry my point, and we soon fell out. What I could not gain fairly, I tried to obtain by treachery, and the result can be readily guessed. I introduced many measures; none of them were liked, and the struggle as to who would conquer--the one or the many--began. My habits were extravagant, but then I had fine tastes; collected many beautiful pictures, which, alas! at my death, were scattered, never again to be a collection. The painter Vandyck was a favorite of mine, and when he lay dying I sent my own doctor to attend him, but in vain. He painted several likenesses of me and my family. I had very warm friends, who stood by me in all my troubles, but nothing could save me; and at last, January 15, 1649, I was put on trial for my life. My judges were prejudiced against me, and I was not allowed to plead my own cause, so was adjudged worthy of death. All agree, friends and foes, that I met my fate bravely, and when you find out who I am, "remember" the last word I spoke. My family were scattered and poor. Afterward my eldest son avenged my "murder," as he considered it, but three of my judges escaped, and found shelter in America. There was, however, a taint of falsehood in all of us, and my children's children were at last dispossessed of what had been my inheritance.

What most grieved me was not my losses, but remembering how many friends suffered with me; and, spite of all my faults, few have been more loved.

End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Young People, March 16, 1880, by Various