letter I have written to you. My ma is writing this for me, as I am

sick.

H. R. C.

It is a new idea to call a bird Trouble, after the trouble he gave, isn't it? It would be fair to change his name to Pleasure, now that he sings so well. I hope, dear, that you have by this time quite recovered from your illness.

* * * * *

BIRDIE M.--Please pardon me for not having sooner thanked you for the pretty daffodil which you sent in your letter all the way from Cherokee, Kansas. Now, to pay you for it, let me give you a pretty poem from the poet Wordsworth, to copy into your little book of extracts. In fact, I would be glad to hear that a great many of my little friends had done the same. It is a good plan to copy gems of thought from great authors into little books of our own. Even though you may not quite understand the poet's meaning in these verses, you will like their musical sound, and, believe me, that when you are older the meaning will be plain to you:

I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of the bay; Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee; A poet could not but be gay In such a jocund company. I gazed and gazed, but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought.

For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude, And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.

* * * * *

A LITTLE BOY'S COMPOSITION.--The subject assigned by mamma was "Quadrupeds." Ernest retired to the attic, and wrote very patiently until he had finished this, which is not so bad for a first attempt:

"Quadrupeds are animals. Animals live on grass, hay, oats, bran, and water. A quadruped is anything that has four legs."

That was all Ernest could possibly think of. But mamma, who sends it, wants the children to say whether everything with four legs is, of course, a quadruped.

Here is another little composition, by a wee girlie, who writes about kittens:

"I have a little kitty, jet-black, full of frisking and fun, and I hope she will _never_ get to be a dreadful old cat, and run away. She plays with my apron strings, and likes a red ball best of any. My sister Lucy, when she went to the store, asked the shoe man for a pair of shoes for a baby without any heels on. This is all I can write about kittens.

"LOTTIE (aged 8)."

* * * * *

OSAKIS, MINNESOTA.

My aunt sends me YOUNG PEOPLE, and I read it as soon as it comes from the Post-office. We live on the bank of the most beautiful lake in the world. The lake is twelve miles long, and is full of fish. Boat-riding and fishing are our chief amusements. I am the only girl in the family, and my papa says that I am the prettiest girl in the Northwest.

LUNETTA E. C.

Don't let papa make you vain, dear. That would be a great misfortune, wouldn't it? Do you tell him that he is the best and handsomest papa in the whole United States? I am sure you think so.

* * * * *

CLARKSTOWN, NEW YORK.

We thought we would like to tell about our pets. We each have a rabbit. One is black with a white breast, and the other two are white and gray. We give them apple-wood, and they peel the bark off so clean! We have two cats, both gray. One of them is very old; we call her Kitty Gray. The other is a kitten, and is named Christopher. He will run up my dress to fetch a piece of bread which I hold as high as I can. We have eight bantams; one of them is blind. We ourselves write a paper called "The Monthly Budget"; we compose it all. We like YOUNG PEOPLE very much. I am ten. Robert is eight, and Pauline is five. We can all read.

MARIANNE W.

Send me a copy of your "Budget," please. I would like to have a peep at it.

* * * * *

HUNTINGTON, WEST VIRGINIA.

The boiler in a flour mill here blew up the other day. It lifted the large chimney away up in the air, and that came down with an awful crash. When the boiler blew up it shook all the houses near it. It blew the large water tank that was on the roof clear up into the air. Pieces of the boiler and engine were blown across the street. Some bricks and large pieces of timber were blown over the street, and burst in the side of a house. There was a real large barrel factory that caught fire here, and the fire-engine worked from seven until eleven o'clock, but could not stop it, it had got under headway so much. It rained almost every day in the next week, but the fire kept on smoking. We have good teachers at our day school. I am ten years old, and study spelling, reading, arithmetic, grammar, and geography.

CHARLIE A. P.

What an exciting time you have had between the explosion and the fire! I am afraid you boys enjoyed the fun more than you thought about the calamities.

Not long ago I saw an explosion of a different kind. Some boys were playing marbles near my house, and a quarrel had arisen. One little man jumped up, shook his fist at another, and with blazing eyes said, "You just get me mad, now, and see what I'll do!" He looked as though he might turn into a torpedo on the spot. It made me think of a Bible verse which I like very much: "Better is he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city." I fear the angry boy had not learned that verse by heart, if, indeed, he had ever heard of it.

* * * * *

GRATTAN, MICHIGAN.

Although I am thirteen years old, I am not too old to write to a young people's paper. I went to school in the winter, but just a week before school closed the school-house burned. My papa owns a hop yard, and in the fall we have a number of girls to pick hops. I like to pick quite well, but when the sun is hot the hops settle, and you don't get your box full so quickly. I have only two pets. One is a large, playful yellow-dog, and the other is a ferret. Her name is Jennie, and she is very nice. She looks very much like a weasel, only her fur is yellow and black. She likes bread and milk very much, and if we give her a cracker she will run and hide it. We can take a saucer of milk and hold it up a foot and a half from the floor, and she will jump and catch hold of the edge of the saucer and eat. I have taken YOUNG PEOPLE for about four months, and like it real well. This is the first letter I have ever written to a paper.

OLLIE L. W.

So even a ferret appreciates kindness! It must be a pretty sight when the girls go out to pick the hops. I am sure they have a happy time over their work. Are they paid according to the number of boxes they fill in a day?

* * * * *

JOSIE E. L.--For a little girl still in the Primary Department your letter is very well written indeed. I hope the new Maltese kitten will be as cunning and as great a pet as the one that died.

* * * * *

MARGARET S. S.--Your account of your travels almost took away my breath. Twice across the continent; twice from New York, by Panama, and thence by steamer, to San Francisco; and then, last summer in the Yosemite! You are a fortunate girl to have seen so many places. Well, dear, when you grow up you will have many pleasant and some droll things to remember, and you will not be a timid or fussy traveller, making every one around you uncomfortable. Your room must be very beautiful, decorated as you describe it. I presume your sister and you are both fond of natural history.

* * * * *

C. Y. P. R. U.

EFFIE D.--Pot-pourri is a French word which means a mixture. In music it is used to describe a piece or a series of pieces in which fragments of various melodies are oddly contrasted. But its prettier meaning, and the one which you will probably like to carry out for yourself, is that by which it was known to our grandmothers when they were young. The pot-pourri was a vase or jar into which rose petals, sprigs of lavender, bits of fern, and other delicate flowers were thrown, often with perfumes and essences, and all the year round it shed a faint sweetness through the parlor where it stood.

* * * * *

The Postmistress was much interested, not long ago, in the description given by an English lady residing in Pekin of the funeral of a Chinese Empress. The manners and customs of China are not at all like our own. Their way of showing their love and respect for the dead is quite different from ours, as you will see by reading about the procession which followed the lady Tung-tai-how to her resting-place in the Imperial Tombs. Her body was inclosed in a splendid coffin, and the tablet telling her name and the story of her life was hung in a niche in the Temple of Ancestors. The road to the Tombs was spread with yellow earth, and banners were hung across it at intervals, while blue cloth was festooned at crossings, and wherever there was danger that the curious eyes of the common people should peep at the tablet. In complete silence came the imperial umbrella, flag, and Sedan-chair, all of beautiful yellow satin. The chair containing the tablet was carried by eight bearers in crimson dresses with yellow spots. It was followed by a train of Mandarins in court dress, their garments glittering with embroidery. After them came a troop of spearmen, wearing yellow jackets with black sleeves, and bearing long slender lances.

On arriving at the Temple of Ancestors, which is within the palace, the procession was met by some of the ministers of state and the princes. The tablet was lifted to its place of honor, and then the ceremonies were over for the time, though offerings will be placed before it, as before the tablets of other ancestors, whenever any event of importance takes place in the royal family.

Perhaps some of you do not know that the Chinese worship their ancestors. They fancy that the souls of the dead linger around these tablets, and so they place food, clothing, and money near them. Even the poorest consider this a sacred duty. Every home has its tablets, if not its ancestral hall. It is their idea that the spiritual part only of the food is eaten by the dead, and so, after a while, most families use the rice and fruit themselves. Money and clothing are represented by paper, which, at stated periods, is very devoutly burned before the shrines.

* * * * *

TWO AMUSING GAMES.--By the same mail which brought the Postmistress a letter from the pupils of the Prairie Mound School, Watkins, Iowa, asking her to tell them of a nice game to play at recess, came another letter from St. Louis, Missouri, telling of two games. So what can be better than to let Olga answer the Prairie-Mounders? The Postmistress is sure they were thinking of games for rainy days. On fine days top, ball, I-spy, and tag usually enlist active boys and girls, and those are the best plays for them which give them wholesome exercise in the open air:

I have two very interesting games that may be played in-doors--one is called "Cross-Purposes," and the other is "The Cook who likes no Peas." The first is played in the following manner: One player goes around among the circle, and whispers in each one's ear an answer which he is to make to the next player who shall come after him asking questions. For instance, Charles goes around to Nos. 1, 2, 3, and 4. To No. 1 he whispers, "Hot, sweet, and strong," to No. 2, "With pepper and vinegar," to No. 3, "With my best love," and to No. 4, "No, indeed." Jane comes after Charles to ask any questions her own wit may suggest. She asks No. 1, "What kind of a week have you passed?" No. 1 answers, "Hot, sweet, and strong." She asks No. 2, "Shall you ever marry?" No. 2 answers, "With pepper and vinegar." To No. 3, "How will you keep house on these?" No. 3 answers, "With my best love." To No. 4, "Where do you live?" No. 4 answers, "No, indeed." Much amusement is sometimes made by the total variance of the questions and answers, and sometimes a very hard blow is administered to some of the company, but of course no offense can be taken.

Now for "The Cook who likes no Peas." The leader of the game must put the following question to his right-hand neighbor, and also to all the players in succession: "My cook likes no peas; what shall I give her to eat?" If any player replies, "Potatoes, apples, and parsnips," the other answers, "She does not like them--pay a forfeit." But if another says, "Onions, carrots, veal," she likes them, and consequently no forfeit is required of the player. The trick of this game is evident: it is the letter "p" that must be avoided. Thus, to escape the penalty of a forfeit, it is necessary that the player should propose some kind of food in which the letter "p" does not occur.

OLGA C. B.

* * * * *

We would call the attention of the C. Y. P. R. U. this week to the article, by Sarah Cooper, entitled "How Jelly-Fish Live and Move"; to the story of shipwreck entitled the "Loss of the HALSEWELL," and told under the head of "Peril and Privation" by Mr. James Payn; and to the article on fencing, by Sherwood Ryse, entitled "A Princely Art."

* * * * *

Correct answers to puzzles have been received from "Fleur-de-lis," Kitty Hoyt, Jennie Belknap, Jack Hayes, Robbie Keyes, Mary Jane Nichols, "Lodestar," H. W. B., "Bo-Peep," Mary Stansbery, Emily Atkinson, G. P. Taggart, Samuel S. Wolfsohn, S. May, Herman Metz, William H. Shine, B. J. Lautz, L. E. C., Caspar Van Gieson, Lillie D., Willie T. Blew, Smith Olcott, Lulu Payne, Dudley Long, Henry Clayton, Fanny Grey, John Hobson, Archie McIntosh, Dick Fanshaw, Thomas B. Irons, Elsie V. Bess, Mollie Ramsay, "I. Scycle," D. Herman Winter, Jun., Allie E. Cressingham, "Benny Fishel," Eddie Lawler, and Everett C. F.

* * * * *

PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

CHARADE.

1. A little pool (so called in England).

2. A little pool (so called in Scotland).

Whole--A city in Ireland.

J. P. B.

* * * * *

No. 2.

WORDS WITHIN WORDS (GEOGRAPHICAL).

(The word defined is contained, without transposition, between the first and last letters of the second).

1. An ancient city in an ancient plain. 2. A passage in a church in a large town in Scotland. 3. A girl in a town in Switzerland. 4. An attorney in a town in Italy. 5. Always in a river of England. 6. An Austrian river in trouble. 7. A domestic animal in a lake of Russia.

J. P. B.

* * * * *

No. 3.

ENIGMA.

In bed, but not in sleep, In boil, but not in steep. In can't, but not in could. In bark, but not in wood. In stay, but not in stood. My whole, though a great trouble, Is a book that all should keep.

MABEL M. S.

* * * * *

No. 4.

GEOGRAPHICAL PUZZLE.

I am the name of a favorite English novelist, and am composed of fourteen letters. My 2, 6, 5, 12, 13, 3 is a city in Arkansas. My 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 is a cape on the Atlantic coast. My 4, 6, 8 is a river in Louisiana. My 14, 13, 3, 11, 12 is a river in Idaho. My 6, 4, 9, 12 is one of the great lakes. My 10, 5, 9, 13, 10, 2 is a river in Virginia.

OLIVETTE.

* * * * *

No. 5.

TWO DIAMONDS.

1.--1. A letter. 2. A tag. 3. Emaciation. 4. A stout satin-striped silk. 5. The slanting bank opposite the tow-path. 6. To perceive. 7. A letter.

2.--1. A letter. 2. A receptacle. 3. Pipes. 4. Hollow. 5. To beat. 6. A boy's nickname. 7. A letter.

FOSSIL.

* * * * *

No. 6.

BEHEADINGS.

1. I am a home; behead me, and I am a fluid. 2. I measure time; behead me, and I am a fastening. 3. I am burnt; behead me, and I am a conjunction. 4. I am a factory; behead me, and I am sick. 5. I am a being; behead me, and I am a part of speech. 6. I am a pleasant pastime; behead me, and I am a girl's name. 7. I am used in hunting; behead me, and I indicate the summer. 8. I am a boy's name; behead me, and I am part of a verb. 9. I am a mechanical instrument; behead me, and I never end.

P. F. S.

* * * * *

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 129.

No. 1.

T opmos T I ndian A T ormen T T aproo T L itera L E pidot E

No. 2.

Eli Whitney. Victor Hugo. Boy.

No. 3.

C R E S T R E A C H E A G E R S C E N E T H R E E

No. 4

P C P I G T H E P I A N O C H I N A G N U E N D O A

P P A D P A N I C D I N C

* * * * *

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

HOW THE DANDELIONS GROW.

How do they grow? Why, little sprites Pop up from the ground on starry nights; One, with a candle, sits aloft, Another rakes till all is soft; Then one little elf a bellows wields; He scatters the seed o'er dewy fields. And now, small people, you surely know The way that the dandelions grow.

* * * * *

A DOG WHO LIKED CATS.

Poodles are, in some respects, the most intelligent of all species of dogs. This is the reason why the performing dogs who are taught to do all sorts of curious tricks are almost always poodles. There was a lady who owned a large poodle which was very fond of walking with her. Every day at about ten o'clock he would find the articles of dress that he thought she ought to wear out-of-doors, and would bring them to her, and bark loudly until she would put them on. He always insisted that she should wear rubber overshoes, no matter what the weather might be, but he never brought her an umbrella except when it rained. It was very nice in him to wait on his mistress; but sometimes, when he would drag her best bonnet by one string down stairs and through the whole house until he found her, she would not remember to thank him as heartily as he imagined that he deserved.

Unlike most dogs, this poodle liked cats. He had intelligence enough to perceive that cats had their uses, and that it was much better to use them than to waste them recklessly by killing them. In the family where he lived there were at one time two large cats. Now the poodle was not allowed to wear any wool except on his head, fore-quarters, tail, and legs, and the consequence was that in the winter he suffered from the cold. He therefore made friends with the cats by giving them scraps of his dinner, and so induced them to come and lie down by him when he wanted a nap. With one cat on each side of him he was quite warm and comfortable, and when the cats showed signs of wakefulness he would put them to sleep by licking their fur with his rough tongue.

The two cats finally died or ran away, and a small kitten took their place. The dog did not think it worth while to waste bones on the kitten, as she was a weak, foolish little beast, who fancied that she must do whatever the poodle wanted. When he felt sleepy, he would go into the kitchen and find his kitten. Picking her up in his mouth, he would walk slowly through the house until he found a nice sunny spot on a soft carpet, when he would lie down, placing the kitten close to him. If any one called him while he was walking about with the kitten in his mouth, he would throw her away with a toss of his head, never caring where she might land. This rough treatment, together with the fact that he would sometimes pick the kitten up by the tail or the head, and carry her for several minutes in a most trying position, proved too much for the meek little animal's constitution, and one day, to his great disappointment, the dog found her dead, and so cold that she was no longer of the slightest use to him.

It is a great pity that other dogs have not discovered that cats can be put to good use if dogs only take a little pains to win their friendship and develop their useful qualities. But dogs are too often reckless and thoughtless, and prefer to waste valuable cats in order to enjoy for a few moments the pleasures of the chase.

* * * * *

AN EVENING AMUSEMENT.

DROPPING MELTED LEAD.

From far-away Russia we may learn of a pretty custom which Florence and Fanny might propose some evening when the cousins and school-mates have gathered for an hour or two of fun. It forms one of the traditional amusements of the New-Year festival, but you might try it at any period of the year.

Pin a large white sheet against the wall. Have ready a basin of cold water, and over the fire melt a quantity of lead. Let some one drop this liquid lead by spoonfuls into the water. It of course cools quickly, and hardens into shape. Hold it up, and observe the shadow it casts on the sheet. If this is like a boat, or a sleigh, or a horse and phaeton, it is a sign that somebody in the company will soon start on a journey. Should it assume the shape of a blossoming bough, it betokens the speedy convalescence of a friend who is ill; if it resembles a dove, you may be sure that Albert and Elsie, who have quarrelled, will soon be reconciled. In short, by the aid of a vivid imagination, you may fancy that the lead tells you almost anything you wish to hear.

* * * * *

End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Young People, May 9, 1882, by Various