Part 4

I have written to you once before; but not having seen my letter published, I thought I would try again. Papa has taken YOUNG PEOPLE for my brother Harry and me since the first number came out. We take turns about reading it first. Harry has it first one week, and I get it first the next week. Papa made that rule because we both wanted it at once. We were so anxious to read about poor Toby Tyler! Papa read to us out of the paper about the boat that is called for him. We have two cats. The older one will not let us pet her at all, but the other is very gentle. We once had a cat that used to get on grandma's shoulder and take off her glasses, and she used to mind two little guinea-pigs we had. If she thought they got too far from the house, she would chase them back; and when papa brought them home she thought they were kittens, for she used to cuddle them up to her; and if they got frightened, they would run and get under her. When cold weather came, we sent them to the Zoological Garden, as we had no place to keep them, and grandma said the gray cat ought to have gone to take care of them. Mamma says she sees only one defect in YOUNG PEOPLE; that is, the date is not conspicuous enough. I am afraid I am making my letter too long. I would like to write more. On Sunday, the 23d of October, I will be eleven years old.

ANNIE R. H.

As the date is always in the same place, and you know where to look for it, it does not need to be very conspicuous for bright young eyes like yours.

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LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY.

Frank and I are two little boys who live in Louisville. We take your paper, and like it so much! I don't know which I like best, "Tim and Tip" or "Talking Leaves"; but Frank likes to read the letters from the boys and girls, and we want to tell them about our squirrels. We have had them about six months. They live in a large tin cage with a wheel, and they are so gentle they will eat from our hands, and come out of their house when we call "Bunny." We feed them ourselves, and they know us. I hope you will put this letter in your Box.

MASON.

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I live in the country about three miles from Scottsville, New York. I have for pets one dog named Sport, four cats--their names are Jim, Prince, Tramp, and Hayes--one cow named Snowball, one calf named Strawberry, and one pony named Nellie. I am staying at my grandma's for my health. My grandpa owns a large farm, and keeps horses, cows, and other animals. I would like to exchange 100 postmarks (no duplicates, and some rare), for thirty foreign stamps, or forty-five picture-cards (no duplicates). One stone from New York, for one foreign stamp. Please write before sending.

FLORENCE POPE, Scottsville, Monroe Co., N. Y.

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COMMUNITY, NEW YORK.

I wrote to YOUNG PEOPLE a long time ago, but have never seen the letter in print, so I will try again.

I like HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE very much indeed, and I think "Tim and Tip" is just splendid. I hope to take this paper another year.

I have a kitty, and when I go to the shed to feed her, she will jump up on a stone that serves as a table, and wait patiently for what I have to give her. My little friend Beatrice, two years old, is very fond of this kitty, and will come out and say, "Good-morning, kitty," and "Good-by, kitty," of her own accord.

It is fair-day at Oneida, and, if pleasant, Miss Nellie Thurston will make a balloon ascension this afternoon at 4 o'clock.

I am nine years old, and have a sister Christine six years old.

GERTRUDE H.

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I live on the banks of the Ohio River, opposite Constance, Boone County, Kentucky. Just opposite our house is the mouth of the little creek which separates Boone County from Kenton County, Kentucky. I have a little black dog named Moses, and a cat named Mrs. Nellie de Garmo Taliaferro. My father's office is in Cincinnati. He brings me the YOUNG PEOPLE every Wednesday, and I go to the dépôt to meet him. My name is Bennie E. H., and I shall be nine years old the 20th of October.

We hope you had a happy birthday.

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PEORIA, KANSAS.

I have three brothers and one sister, and myself am eleven years old. I have a great big doll, and her name is Mollie; and a cunning little one, and her name is Jessie. I let my little brothers play with them. My papa is the postmaster. My sister is fourteen years old. She would like to exchange flower seeds with some of the girls, and she has four different kinds.

EVA W. BATEMAN.

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SCRANTON, PENNSYLVANIA.

We wanted mamma to write and tell you about our dog Gip. When he is out-doors and wants to come in, he goes to the front door and rings the bell. I wonder if any of the other children who take YOUNG PEOPLE have such a smart dog. We have a little goat that came here last week, and it follows us all over.

GEORGIE and BESSIE S.

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LYNN, MASSACHUSETTS.

My uncle has taken YOUNG PEOPLE for his "brood of little folks," as he calls his nephews and nieces, since the first number. The brood are my cousins Willie and Grace, my sister Florence, and myself--all of whom are old enough to read--also my two sisters and brother, Mattie, Hattie, and Clarence, who are too young yet to read, but who like very much to look at the pictures, and to whom we read the stories. I have never seen a letter in YOUNG PEOPLE from any of its many readers in Lynn, so I thought I would write one. My uncle has two fine yellow cats, striped like tigers. Their names are Toby Tyler and Jimmy Brown. Every morning Toby goes to the door that opens on the stairway leading to my uncle's room, and mews and rattles the latch until some one opens the door and lets him run up to the apartment. As soon as Toby gets there he jumps up on the bed, and wakes my uncle up by pawing him in the face; and one morning he sat down on my uncle's face. I am twelve years old.

IDA MAY C.

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NEWARK, NEW JERSEY.

We have two little kittens, the very prettiest kittens I ever saw. We have been rowing a great many times this summer, and I have learned to row and to swim.

SIDNEY W. A.

We wish all the boys, and the girls too, would learn to swim, if they live near the water. Swimming is easily learned, and once learned, is never forgotten.

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C. Y. P. R. U.

The first story which I shall relate in outline to the readers of this column was written a quarter of a century ago by Dr. John Brown, of Edinburgh. A physician with a large practice, he has found time for literary pursuits, and his occasional essays, collected into two volumes of _Spare Hours_, have been the delight of a host of thoughtful and cultivated people. As in the sketches I shall give you now and then I must study brevity, I hope those who may have time and opportunity will go from me to the original story-writers, and read for themselves.

RAB AND HIS FRIENDS.

Rab was a huge mastiff, "old, gray, brindled, as big as a little Highland bull," fierce, kind-hearted, and faithful. He belonged to a carrier, or what we would call an expressman--a thin, impatient, dark-haired little man, to whom Rab was entirely submissive. Dr. Brown being fond of dogs, had formed quite a friendship with this one, which dated back to the doctor's boyhood, when, seeing Rab attacked by a savage little bull-terrier, which was madly trying to fight whatever came in its way, he stepped up to Rab and cut the muzzle which prevented the great creature from defending himself. Six years after this, when the doctor was a young medical student, there came a procession to the hospital one afternoon in October. In at the large gate walked Rab, with "that great and easy saunter of his. He looked as if taking general possession of the place, like the Duke of Wellington entering a subdued city, satiated with victory and peace." After him came the old white mare Jess, drawing the carrier's cart, in which Ailee, the carrier's wife, was seated, her husband not driving, but walking at the mare's head, and leading her carefully along.

There is no _genre_ sketch in the English language which is finer than the description of Ailee Noble and her husband James. His plaid was about her. His big coat was carefully tucked around her feet. She had a sweet pale face, with silvery hair, and dark gray eyes, "eyes full of suffering, and full of the overcoming of it." He had a swarthy, weather-beaten countenance, shrewd and keen. She was like a delicate snow-drop in her unworldliness and purity. She was the victim of a dreadful malady, a cancer in her breast, and only the surgeon's knife could cure it. In those days--nearly sixty years ago--chloroform was unknown as a blessed relief from pain. Ailee was put to bed for that night, and the faithful husband and dog watched by her side. The dog reminded Dr. Brown, oddly enough, in his size and dignity, of a famous Baptist preacher, Andrew Fuller, with his look of sombre command, as "of thunder asleep, but ready." Next day the operation was performed. The beautiful old woman bore it with perfect patience and silence; and when it was over, the surrounding students, though accustomed to see people suffer, wept like children. The husband "happed" her up, and carried her to her room again, Rab following.

"I'll hae nane o' yer strynge nurse bodies for Ailee, Maister John," said James. "I'll be her nurse, an' I'll gang aboot on my stockin' soles as canny as pussy."

For several days she seemed to do well under his kind care. Then she grew worse, wandered in her mind, thought she had in her arms her "wee Mysie, forty years and mair" in heaven; at last came to herself, said "James," and with a long loving look for him, a glance for the kind young doctor, and one for Rab, then another satisfied gaze into her husband's face, she shut her eyes, and fell asleep in death.

There is little more to tell. Poor James did not long survive his wife. By the fall of the first snow, the two were in the same grave. Rab was taken by the carrier who succeeded to the business, but he would not eat, he would not leave the stable where old Jess was kept, nor would he let his new master come near him. At last that master had to kill him.

"I was laith to mak awa wi' th' auld dowg," said this man, "but I could doe naething else."

And says our author: "I believed him. Fit end for Rab. His teeth and his friends gone, why should he keep the peace and be civil?"

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Marie G. Hamblin proposes that the boys and girls who read YOUNG PEOPLE shall emulate Secretary Blaine, and learn to repeat in their order the names of the sovereigns of England, and the dates of their respective coronations. She suggests that all who do so shall send their names, accompanied by the signatures of their parents or teachers, to the Postmistress, that the Editor of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE and Dr. Vincent may know that they are trying to acquire useful knowledge. The Postmistress approves of the plan, and gives the remainder of 1881 as the time in which all who wish may endeavor to thus exercise their memories. The names of the diligent students will be duly printed in this column.

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Many persons erroneously think that a letter if left unsealed will be sent by the Post-office Department for one cent. They write their letter, leave it open, and affix a one-cent stamp to the envelope. In all such cases the recipient is compelled to pay the additional postage. And while this may not be an affair of great importance to an individual who receives an occasional letter, it involves a large expenditure when, as in the case of Harper & Brothers, letters are received by the thousands weekly.

Full letter postage is at the rate of three cents per every half ounce in America. Letters to Europe cost five cents per half ounce. Little readers will please remember this, and remind their elders, if they forget it.

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AUTUMN PICTURES FOR THE COMMON-PLACE-BOOK.

Along the river's summer walk The withered tufts of asters nod, And trembles on its arid stalk The hoar plume of the golden-rod. And on a ground of sombre fir And azure-studded juniper The silver-birch its buds of purple shows, And scarlet berries tell where bloomed the sweet wild rose.

--JOHN G. WHITTIER.

The ash her purple drops forgivingly And sadly, breaking not the general hush; The maple swamps glow like a sunset sea, Each leaf a ripple with its separate flush; All round the wood's edge creeps the skirting blaze Of bushes low, as when on cloudy days Ere the rain falls the cautious farmer burns his brush.

--JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

What School of Design can vie with the autumn colors? The leaves are not dipped in one dye, as at the dye-house, but they are dyed in light of various degrees of strength, and left to set and dry there.--HENRY D. THOREAU.

The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere. Heaped in the hollows of the grove the autumn leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread.

--WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.

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WEST SPRINGFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS.

DEAR POSTMISTRESS,--Will you admit an old lady into your pleasant circle? I wish to say a word or two about the poor cat Augusta C. dislikes so much. Probably one reason why most people like dogs better than cats is that dogs like people best, and cats like places best. A dog will follow his owner to new places, but usually a cat will stay at the old place, even if she is the only thing left, unless she is blinded and carried away by force, and then she will be frightened and confused for several days, though all her old friends may be with her. But a dog only wants his old friends with him, and he will stay almost anywhere. Cats are very interesting, though they are not quite so loving. I have a cat which a few years ago swallowed something which "stuck in her throat," and the poor creature was badly troubled by it for a long time. She could not lap either milk or water, and I was afraid she would die. I tried to feed her with a spoon, as I have often fed lambs, but did not succeed very well; her teeth were too sharp. As I sat watching poor Katherine's efforts one day to drink a saucer of warm milk which I had given her, I thought of trying to feed her with a bottle. I put the milk into one which would hold a small tea-cupful, and took her in my lap to feed her. Well, she and I "made a mess" of it the first time. But after one or two trials more, I succeeded in teaching her to drink from the bottle without spilling the milk. Every time I thought she ought to be fed--which was morning and night--I would get the bottle ready, and say, "Katherine, do you want your milk?" If she was in a sound sleep, she would spring up and mew in reply, and stand up on her hind-legs like a rabbit. Then I would stoop down to her and hold out my left hand, and she would lean her "elbows" on it, and put her paws on the "shoulders" of the bottle, I holding it in my right hand, and tipping it as she drank the milk, until she had taken the whole. She would frequently mew for more, and follow me around until I would give her another drink, when she would lick her chops, wash her face, and lie down for a nap.

When drinking she would sit on her haunches, straight up, and put her little paws around the bottle in the most comical way imaginable. One could not keep from laughing to see her. If I attempted to take it away before she was done, she would run her nails out and hold on with quite a grip. I fed her in this way for more than six weeks; and it was such a funny sight that the neighbors would come in and ask me to feed her, and friends from quite a distance would ask after my cat, and beg to see her eat. I fed her longer than was necessary on this account, for she recovered from the trouble after a while, and is as well now as ever she was, only she is getting old. I sometimes tempt her with the bottle now, just to see if she remembers her old accomplishment. But Katherine is a very wise cat. She would use the bottle when it was "prescribed" for her. When it was no longer necessary, she seemed to prefer the natural way of drinking.

AUNT MARY.

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We place before the C. Y. P. R. U. this week a variety of instructive and entertaining articles. The sketch of Charlotte Corday, from the pen of one of our most able American historians, will recall the lesson taught by the terrible French Revolution; a "Dangerous Plaything" will show the boys and girls what strong measures are taken in our large cities to check the ravages made by fire; and "Lawn Tennis" will give them an idea of another new device in the way of an out-door game for developing weak muscles and cultivating health and strength. As for the article on our second page, entitled "Luck," we trust that it is going to do a great deal toward inducing our young readers to cast that stupid word out of their vocabulary.

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PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

TWO HOUR-GLASS PUZZLES.

1.--1. A dictionary. 2. Part of a shilling. 3. A girl's name. 4. A letter. 5. An animal. 6. An atom. 7. Transit. Centrals read downward spell the name of a partly civilized people.

2.--1. A mean parasite. 2. A precious gem. 3. To yell. 4. A letter. 5. An interrogation. 6. To form the texture. 7. A peculiar appearance of the eye. Centrals read downward spell the name of a monster of the Northern seas.

DAMON AND PYTHIAS.

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No. 2.

NUMERICAL ENIGMA.

My whole is a familiar adage. My 1, 2, 3, 9, 13 is the home of a minister. My 14, 20, 2, 7 must never be retained. My 19, 11, 9, 18, 13 has brought thousands to poverty. My 21, 20, 9, 13 is the pride of the garden. My 16, 17, 20, 9, 18 is a terror to the silly. My 8, 20, 16 is a faithful friend.

SUSAN NIPPER.

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No. 3.

EASY HALF-SQUARE.

1. A city of the United States. 2. A body of water. 3. Beheld. 4. To brown. 5. A preposition. 6. A letter.

WILL A. METTE.

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No. 4.

AN EASY DIAMOND.

1. A letter. 2. A Spanish coin. 3. A morose man. 4. A puzzle. 5. Part of a ship. 6. A rod. 7. A letter.

R. O. BERT.

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No. 5.

A DIFFICULT DIAMOND.

1. A letter. 2. An animal. 3. Prongs. 4. Girths. 5. A genus of plants. 6. One of the osseous fishes. 7. Opinion. 8. To perch. 9. A letter.

MILTIADES.

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ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN No. 104.

No. 1.

C H A S S E U R L A S H E R S A S P I R E S P E R E H I R E I N S N G G

No. 2.

Kite, hue, habitual, chest, jot. The house that Jack built.

No. 3.

Shut the door.

No. 4.

Sleepless.

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Correct answers to puzzles have been received from Mamie G. Henderson, Ray W. Osborne, George Sylvester, C. S. F.

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[_For Exchanges, see third page of cover._]

THE PERFORMING ELEPHANT.

BY SAMUEL McSPEDON.

This is a very simple and funny little toy which any boy or girl can make without a great deal of time or trouble. You must trace Fig. 1 on a piece of white or black paper, but black is better. After cutting it out, paste it on a piece of white card-board. Now cut out the round holes, which are meant for eyes, and the four square holes A, B, C, and D. Figs. 2, 3, and 4 must be traced on a piece of stiff card-board, and cut out. The lower piece (_a_), which represents the trunk, is put through hole A of Fig. 1. Now put Figs. 3 and 4 through the holes C and D; then run a thread through the little round holes of Figs. 2, 3, and 4, overlapping Figs. 3 and 4 behind Fig. 2, and knotting the threads so as to form a pivot. Now put _b_ through hole B, and pass it through the little hole near the upper edge of the card, as shown in Fig. 5.

Pull the trunk down as far as you can, and mark with your pen through the eye-holes two little round dots for eyeballs, as shown in Fig. 2. Then mark out the lines of the head, back, etc., with a little white paint.

Now by pulling _b_ up and pushing it down, we have an elephant like Fig. 5, which will move his tail, trunk, ears, and eyes as naturally as any elephant which has been born and brought up in the circus.

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=Leaf Photographs=.--A very pretty amusement, especially for those who have just completed the study of botany, is the taking of leaf photographs. One very simple process is this: At any druggist's get an ounce of bichromate of potassium. Put this into a pint bottle of water. When the solution becomes saturated--that is, the water has dissolved as much as it will--pour off some of the clear liquid into a shallow dish; on this float a piece of ordinary writing-paper until it is thoroughly wet. Let it become dry in the dark. It should be of a bright yellow. On this put the leaf; under it a piece of black soft cloth and several sheets of newspapers. Put these between two pieces of glass, and with spring clothes-pins fasten them together. Expose to a bright sun, placing the leaf so that the rays will fall upon it as nearly perpendicular as possible. In a few moments it will begin to turn brown; but it requires from half an hour to several hours to produce a perfect print. When it has become dark enough, take it from the frame and put it in clear water, which must be changed every few minutes until the yellow part becomes white.