Part 4

My sister and I are going to write a letter together. We have not taken your paper very long, but like it very much. We have a little brother only a week old, and we all love him very much. We were all vaccinated a little while ago, and as there are nine of us children, we had a good many sore arms. I know Ina J. P., who wrote a letter to YOUNG PEOPLE for January 10; she lives next door to us. We have got a very nice cat; she catches a good many rats. A gentleman gave us a dog, but he became homesick, and cried so that we had to let him run away.

There is quite a large silk-mill here, and the silk looks very pretty while it is being woven. We go to school here, and like the school very much, though it is not very large. We have not read any of Jimmy Brown's stories, but think they must be very nice. We have read quite a good deal about dolls in the letters to YOUNG PEOPLE, but we don't care very much for them. We are collecting advertisement cards, and have about two hundred and fifty. We have a lovely grape arbor at the side of our house; it is very long, and in the summer it is very shady there, and the vine bears splendid grapes. We have a great big barn on our place, and we have lots of fun playing on the high lofts.

JULIA J. B. and EMILY L. B.

Nine children all vaccinated at once! Nine to sit under the grape arbor, and climb the hay lofts, and have a good time generally! The baby brother does not know what fun he will have when he is old enough to enjoy himself with his brothers and sisters, does he? Though there are so many of you, the Postmistress is sure father and mother could not spare even one.

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HOLLY SPRINGS, MISSISSIPPI.

I am a little boy, and can not write very nicely, so I have begged my mamma to write this letter for me. I live away down South in Mississippi. Sherwood Bonner, one of your contributors, lives near us on the same street. She and my mamma were school-mates. Her little daughter Lillian and I waited on a young lady and gentleman who were married, when we were only four years old.

This is a lovely spring-like day, and our hyacinths have all come up in the yard, and will bloom before long.

I have two sisters and one brother. My little sister, who is only four years old, enjoys your paper as much as any of us, and runs to be the first to take it from father when he brings it home. Then, when we are all gathered around a cheerful fire, mamma reads it aloud to us.

DABNEY H. C.

You and Lillian must have looked like dear little fairy pages at the wedding you speak of. We would have enjoyed a peep at you both.

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ORONOCO, MINNESOTA.

I live in the State of Minnesota, in the small village of Oronoco, which is situated on the banks of the Zumbro River. I live on the north side, and my school-house is situated on the south bank, and it is a very beautiful place here. The people from Rochester, which is a city eleven miles from here, visit here often to catch fish and have picnic dinners in the groves. Nearly every autumn I gather butternuts out of our grove; last autumn I gathered two bagfuls. There are a great many nice fish caught here--black bass, pickerel, and many other kinds--and in the winter you can see fish-houses scattered all along on the ice. I have taken HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE for three years, and I will take it three years more I guess.

BLANCHE A.

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BARCLAY, KANSAS.

My papa gave YOUNG PEOPLE to me for a birthday present when I was ten years old, and now I am eleven, and he has sent for it again, for we all think that we could not do without it. I have one sister named Virginia, after mamma's native State, and we call her Virgie. She is nine years old.

I have lots of pets. Our pigeons are so tame that they will eat out of my hand or lap. We have two cats, named Tom and Dick, and they are real cunning, but I can not tell all their tricks. It would take too much space. Our dog Shep will beg for apples and melons to eat. She comes into the house, and when pa plays the violin she sings or howls, and the higher the notes he makes, the louder she sings. Has anybody else a dog that can do that?

When we came to this farm, three years ago, we bought some hens. A speckled one sat, and hatched out a flock of chickens, and what do you think?--she tried to kill all but the black ones. Last summer we had a white hen that acted the same way. Was it not strange?

Every spring since we have lived here papa has found, while working, a number of grubs, dead and callous, and having sprouts--some of them six inches long--growing out of where their eyes had been. A gentleman explained it by saying that the worm was infested with a vegetable parasite, which caused its death.

I have solved a number of puzzles, but never sent any to you. I have been sick for two months, but am better now. We go a mile and a half to school. Most of our school-mates are Quakers, and our teachers are too. I should be so pleased if you would publish this letter. Good-by.

L. PEARLIE S.

Well, dear, the Postmistress thinks those were very naughty hens. The other day she was reading about a great man, named Bishop Thirlwall. The good Bishop was very fond of animals, and very kind to them. In a pond on his grounds were three pike, which are rather savage fish. One morning when the Bishop went to look at them there were only two fish there. Mr. P. had devoured his wife, and was swimming about with his daughter. A day or two after, Miss P. shared her mother's fate. The Bishop wrote sadly to a friend: "I shall never look at the pike again. I can not endure a monster who would eat up his own family." Your dog must be quite musical, but we fancy at times your papa would prefer somebody else to sing to his accompaniment. The Postmistress hopes that you will acquire the gentle ways of the Friends, and imitate their quietness and patience, since you have them for teachers. Be sure and send the answers you find to the puzzles next time.

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MILLIE'S DREAM.

BY J. L. R. (AGED TWELVE).

"I don't believe it ever will be spring, the flowers take so long to bloom; but I am going out into the woods to see if I can just find a few," said Millie Horton to her bosom-friend Dora Merton.

"I'm not going," said Dora. "We will only get tired out. Our feet will be muddy. There are no flowers yet."

"Well, I'm going. I'll see how near they are to blooming." And Millie turned and walked away in the direction of the woods.

She walked on and on, and after reaching the woods and going a little way in, she saw a number of little crocus flowers.

"Oh, you lovely little darlings!" she cried. "I knew I would find some of you in bloom, and here you are, yellow, purple, and white."

She gathered them all, and ran on until she found some violets, then some pussy willow near a little stream, and then under some pine needles the sweet trailing arbutus. At last, tired out, she seated herself upon a log, and fell asleep.

Suddenly she heard a little shrill voice call out, "Say, you Bluebell you, move over a little; you are leaning over on my little sister."

Millie thought she opened her eyes wide, and looked into the basket, and there were the flowers all turned into little ladies and gentlemen.

She was just going to utter an exclamation, when another voice called out: "This is a very close place; I never was so crowded before, and the sun is just pouring in on me. Do take your feet off my face; and if that Spring-beauty does not stop screaming at the top of his voice just because he happens to have the ear-ache, I do not know what I shall do." And a cross yellow Buttercup gave the little Spring-beauty a very rude push.

"Let's have a concert," said a peace-making Dog-tooth violet, lifting up her little head.

"All right," "All right," came from all the flowers.

"Well, then," continued little Miss Dog-tooth, laughing, "you all seem to want to take part, so let Mr. Jack-in-the-pulpit make a speech."

"I am not well prepared to make a speech, but I will do my best," said Mr. Jack, looking very much flattered, as he straightened his collar. And thus he began, "My dear friends--ahem! ahem!--I want you all to do your best--"

He had gone no farther, when the shrill voice of a wild Columbine called out: "I'd like to know what you know about it, telling us to do our best, indeed! Better 'practice what you preach,' I say. You talk as though you knew everything, when you don't know any more than that baby Cowslip there!" and Mother Columbine subsided, her voice trembling with rage.

A little Anemone then cried out, "We did not want to have a quarrel right away, Madam Columbine."

"Noa; boot of course Matham Columpine con't vell rest unless she's quarrelling," retorted a fat little Dutch Tulip in white breeches and striped coat.

"Well, I won't make a speech before such an audience," cried Mr. Jack, as he stepped down from his pulpit.

Then everything was in confusion from top to bottom of the basket, and suddenly Millie felt herself lifted up, and heard her father saying, "She is found." She opened her eyes, and saw the stars twinkling, and she knew that it was night.

She was too tired to tell anything that night, but she related her dream the next day, and they laughed at her; but still Millie feels quite sure that she did hear the flowers talk.

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RACINE, WISCONSIN.

At the Taylor Orphan Asylum, where I live, I have very nice times. Christmas we had a lovely tree, all lit up with candles, and a great many presents on it. I got a very large bag of candy and a book. My brother and sister gave me something too.

We have a new little baby here, a little boy. He is a very brave little boy. When he falls down he begins to laugh as hard as he can. He is so funny! He was brought here a week ago, and seems very happy to be here. When he comes down to his meals he begins to scream out and laugh.

I am getting along nicely in school studying Long Division, and can do the examples very well. I have learned all of the United States and Mexico, and most all of British America.

There is a very large pond out here, and we have so much fun on it! Sometimes we chase each other all over. By-and-by we take off our skates, and run around and play. We enjoy ourselves ever so much. They are all very kind to me here. We have not had any snow this winter. When snow is on the ground they take us out sleighing in a big sleigh. Some of us have little sleds, and we coast down hill on them. In summer we play house out-of-doors, and we go out riding too in a big wagon with a seat all round it. Sometimes we go nutting, and we get the old lumber wagon full of nuts, and then coming home we put the horse-blanket over the nuts and some large boards across, and we all sit on the top. When the horses go up hill, we all get off and run behind. Last winter we had ninety bushels of nuts.

I learned the States of Central America in school to-day by heart; then I had three columns of spelling. This afternoon I worked my examples; then I began this letter to you.

We have HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE every week, and at night some of the large girls read to us out of it. We like the paper very much, and hope we shall always have it. I think the big girls are very kind to read to us. I hope you will like my letter.

MAGGIE S.

Your letter is very interesting, especially the part about the new baby boy. He is very young to be an orphan, and we are glad that he and all the other children whose parents are dead are living in so pleasant a home as you describe. The secret of happiness, after all, is in being unselfish.

Little deeds of kindness, Little words of love, Make our earth an Eden, Like the heaven above.

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SCHENECTADY, NEW YORK.

I have seen a number of letters from little girls about their cats, but I do not think any of them can be nicer than mine, although Joe W. K.'s knows more tricks. My cat is a large blue Maltese, and his name is Ted. He is not quite two years old, and weighs ten and a half pounds. We have scales with a top just large enough for him to sit on, and he sits very still while he is getting weighed. He sits at the table in a high chair, and has a little piece of oil-cloth on which he rests his paws, and waits patiently until we give him something to eat. If we give him anything he does not like, he jumps right down. There is a piece of carpet on the kitchen floor, and when we give him some milk out there we often put his saucer on it, and when he has finished eating he pulls the carpet all over the saucer, and then peeks around to see if it is all covered up. He has a round basket in which he curls up and goes to sleep. He had his picture taken the other day, and he sat very still. There is a large rocking-chair in the parlor which he seems to think is his, and if it is occupied, he will walk around it, and if the person does not get up, he will jump in his or her lap. Good-by.

ALICE C.

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NEWARK, NEW JERSEY.

I am a little girl seven years old. I do not go to school, as my mamma teaches me at home. I can read, spell, and cipher nicely. My brother Waldo takes HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, and my papa has taken HARPER'S MAGAZINE for years. I love to look at the bound volumes. I have looked at them as far as Vol. LIII. I had nine dolls, and I got two more last Christmas; one of these was a boy doll. I put them all to bed every night, and kiss them good-night. My papa says he can not remember all their names, but I can. There are three little girls in the street whom I play with. I have not written this letter myself, as I can not write well enough yet, but I told my mamma what to say. Good-by.

ANNA M. G.

Of course the little mother remembers the names of her dollies. Have any of them ever had the mumps or the measles? and are they ever naughty, or do they always behave like good children? Do you have any trouble with the boy doll, and why didn't you tell the Postmistress his name?

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We repeat that there is no charge for publishing exchanges.

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Eddie W. Curtis, 78 Rush Street, Brooklyn, New York, would like to hear again from a little correspondent in Salt Lake City, who sent him a nice letter containing ten foreign stamps, but having neither name nor address appended. Eddie would like to reply, but can not do so until he shall receive further information.

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C. Y. P. R. U.

The Postmistress has a particular request to make of her young gentleman friends, particularly of those who write to her of their success with guns and bows and arrows. It is that they will read and think about this tender little poem, written by a lover of birds, who found a poor little bobolink dead in her nest on his lawn:

WHO KILLED ROBERT OF LINCOLN?

BY NATHANIEL NILES.

Robert of Lincoln went searching for food To take to his love on her nest; From bush and tree-top, from meadow and wood, To pick it, and bring her the best.

He sprang from the edge of her nest below, And sat on a twig that was nigh, To sing her a song before he could go-- But sang her his last good-by.

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Far out on the meadow a lad that day Had gone to take sport with his gun, Cheerily shooting the birds on his way, And--Robert of Lincoln was one.

Since Robert of Lincoln went out to the wood Three suns have gone down in the west: And weary of waiting for him to bring food, She died without leaving her nest.

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Some of you have been very much interested in the pretty fan drills and broom drills which have been in fashion lately. Now let me tell you about the _mékés_, or dances of Feejee, of which an interesting description is given by Miss C. F. Gordon Cumming in her book _At Home in Feejee_.

"In one very odd dance," she says, "a queer, fluttering creature, with a huge fan in each hand to represent wings, kept dancing round and round a covey of cowering children, whom he bowled over two at a time. Then, as they lay prone, he fanned them to life again, and so drove them along to join the orchestra." The idea was supposed to be that of a bird of prey providing for her young.

In another méké half the men carry fans adorned with long blue and white streamers, and the other half brandish spears. At the end of every movement each dancer holds his fan high above his head, and all together utter a wild, piercing cry. After a while the fan half and the spear half separate into opposing lines, and have a sham fight. In this the spearsmen are defeated, and fall down as if dead, when the fan-bearers bend over and fan them until they spring to their feet again.

In some of the movements the dancers are armed with the old carved war clubs, which were their terrible weapons when the Feejeeans were cannibals. During the last forty years Christianity has been introduced into the islands, and the people who used to be fierce and cruel beyond belief are now the meek and gentle followers of the Saviour.

But in their houses they still have the heirlooms which belonged to their savage ancestors, and which the older ones have themselves fought with when they were young. The missionaries have never tried to induce them to abandon their graceful national games, and so they still practice these beautiful dances, and they are a great feature at the missionary meetings, to which the islanders throng, each bringing his offering with him to present when the contributions are asked for.

One lovely dance represents the breaking of waves on a coral reef. In this they leap and toss their heads, on which they wear loose turbans of soft white native cloth, finished with floating scarf-like ends, which flutter in the breeze. When they begin, it is usually slowly, and with such precision that in the long lines the spears, clubs, or fans are raised and lowered as if held by one man. In every dance they follow a leader, and the leader is often a tiny child, quaintly dressed, and executing every manoeuvre perfectly.

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Members of the C. Y. P. R. U. will find in this number another one of the interesting series of articles on music, by Mrs. John Lillie, entitled "The Story of the Opera." Under the title of "The Titmouse Family," Mrs. Helen S. Conant describes the characteristic habits and ways of these merry and saucy little inhabitants of the bird world. Then you must read about Prince Bismarck. Fancy one of the greatest statesmen the world has ever known having been born on April-fools' Day! We wonder how many of the boys will undertake to construct a magic lantern from the directions given? To those that do we would say that they must not get out of patience if they have trouble in making the soldering-iron work effectively at first. A little patience will overcome all difficulties.

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PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

A WORD SQUARE.

1. A piece of timber. 2. A wild animal. 3. A pointer. 4. A perfume. 5. Compositions on which notes are written.

EMPIRE CITY.

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No. 2.

THREE DIAMONDS.

1.--1. In hat. 2. A meadow. 3. Part of the body. 4. Skill. 5. In tar.

AL. E. GHANY.

2.--1. A letter. 2. A cape. 3. A tent. 4. A verb. 5. A letter.

3.--1. A letter. 2. An animal. 3. A piece of furniture. 4. A tree. 5. A letter.

W. CRAMER.

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No. 3.

A HALF-SQUARE.

1. Large. 2. A package. 3. To devour. 4. An auxiliary of a verb. 5. In night.

AL. E. GHANY.

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No. 4.

TWO ENIGMAS.

1. My whole is a bird. My first is in noble, but not in bright. My second is in scurry, but not in fright. My third is in stone, but not in rock. My fourth is in dress, and also in frock. My fifth is in rise, but not in stand. My sixth is in scratch, but not in brand. My seventh is in Harry, but not in Fred. Now tell my name, Mollie, Winnie, and Ned.

S. BIRDIE DONNAN.

2. First in vine, but not in tree. Second in river, not in sea. Third in ace, but not in jack. Fourth in plenty, not in lack. Fifth in old, but not in young. Sixth in rhyme, but not in song. Seventh in idle, not in good. Eighth in scarf, but not in hood. Oh, a lovely lady's name Is my whole, as all proclaim.

MARY L.

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ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 123.

No. 1.

"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good." "Many hands make light work."

No. 2.

One morning I was awakened by the _Cook_ telling me that my cousin _James_ was waiting for me at the gate. I got up, dressed, and went and met my cousin with a _Little Rock_ in his hand, which he was about to hurl at what he thought was a _Great Bear_. Just as he threw it I saw Mr. _Madison_ with a _Good_ gun. The great bear turned out to be a _White_ cow. After this adventure we went to our homes, which are on _Franklin_ Street, in _Marshall_, Illinois.

No. 3.

R E S T E V E R S E R E T R E E

No. 4.

The letter E.

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Correct answers to puzzles have been received from Ida Demarest, Lottie White, Hugh Carter, Charles F. Wagner, Blanche P. Heywood, "Fort Lee," "Fill Buster," Elsie Dean, Margaret Clyde, Alex. McKinney, Robbie Craig, Alice West, Francis Payson, Eugenie, Rose Tupperman, "Jack Tar," William P. Gale, Victor E. T., "Lodestar," James Eugene M., Augusta Cranmer, Thomas Hutchings, and Lulu Benson.

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[_For Exchanges, see 2d and 3d pages of cover._]

OUR NEW SERIAL.

In No. 127 of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, issued April 4, will appear the first installment of a new and most interesting serial story, under the title of

"MR. STUBBS'S BROTHER,"

A Sequel to "Toby Tyler,"

By JAMES OTIS,

author of "Toby Tyler," "Tim and Tip," etc.

The readers of "Toby Tyler" will remember well the sad event of Mr. Stubbs's death. A number of the little folks felt so badly that they wrote us quite melancholy letters about it. Now we hope they will take an equal interest in his brother. It is, of course, unnecessary to say that there is a very great family likeness between them, and that the hero of our new serial is quite as intelligent and amusing as his deceased relative. We feel sure that he will be quite as great a favorite.

PARLOR MAGIC.

HOW TO GET A RING OUT OF A HANDKERCHIEF.

Bend a piece of wire into the form of a ring, having previously sharpened both ends. You have a real ring made of the same sort of wire, and, concealing the false ring in the corner of your hand, offer the real one to be inspected.

When it is returned, borrow a handkerchief, and while taking it from the lender, slip the real one into your left hand, and take the false one at its point of junction. Throw the handkerchief over the ring, and give it to some one to hold between his finger and thumb. Let the handkerchief fall over it, and give a piece of string to a second spectator, directing him to tie it round the handkerchief about two inches below the ring, so as to inclose it in a bag, and tell him to do so as tightly as he can.