did. Once coming upon him suddenly she found him engaged in prayer,

and so lost in communion with God that he did not become conscious of her presence; and she afterwards said that she never forgot the scene, neither did its influence upon her cease while she lived. She was never strong, having inherited a nervous temperament along with a feeble constitution. Once when she was grown to womanhood she said, “I never knew what it was to feel well.”

At the age of twelve years she was very ill with a fever, so ill that the family thought the hour had come when they must part with Elizabeth. But she was spared, perhaps in answer to the mother’s prayers, for that mother recorded in her journal the circumstance of her illness and restoration with a comment upon God’s goodness in sparing the child, wondering whether it might be to the end that she would one day devote herself to the Saviour and do something for the honor of religion. And in the spring of the following year, this child of many prayers, publicly confessed her faith in Christ, and was enrolled among his people.

She grew to girlhood developing a lovely Christian character, also showing a marked talent in composition. She contributed when quite young to the _Youth’s Companion_. As she passed on through her girlhood into womanhood she became her mother’s faithful friend and assistant, thoughtful for her comfort, and also a tender sympathizing friend towards her brothers.

I want to copy for you a little bit of verse which she wrote for the _Youth’s Companion_, which I think will please some of our little folks.

What are little babies for? Say! say! say! Are they good-for-nothing things? Nay! nay! nay! Can they speak a single word? Say! say! say! Can they help their mother’s sew? Nay! nay! nay! Can they walk upon their feet? Say! say! say! Can they even hold themselves? Nay! nay! nay! What are little babies for? Say! say! say! Are they made for us to love? _Yea!_ YEA! YEA!!!

A friend says of her: “Human nature seems to have been her favorite study. There seemed to be no one in whom she could not find something to interest her, none with whom there was not some point of sympathy.”

And now I wonder if you have guessed, or if you knew all the while that this remarkable woman was the author of some of your favorite books!

The Susy books! ah! your mothers will tell you that these books were _their_ favorites as well as your own! _Susy’s Six Birthdays_ was published thirty-three years ago, then followed the others of the series, and _Flower of the Family_, and _Peterchen_ and _Gretchen_, and _Tangle Thread_, _Silver Thread_ and _Golden Thread_, besides many others, up to twenty-five volumes. The book which has been more widely read than any other of her works is probably “Stepping Heavenward.”

More than seventy thousand copies have been sold in this country, and the work has also been translated into the French and German languages.

Mrs. Prentiss’ books were all written after her marriage to Rev. George L. Prentiss, which occurred in 1845. Mr. Prentiss was the pastor of a church in New Bedford. Afterwards they lived in New York and, in the year 1866, they went to a quiet place among the Green Mountains to spend the summer, and so delighted were they with the beauties of Dorset that they made it their summer home, building a cottage there in which Mrs. Prentiss died about twelve years later.

It is impossible to give you any account of the varied scenes of her life in such a brief sketch. She was called to pass through many sorrows. The death of the father to which I have already referred; later the loss of her mother, sister, brother and children.

These bereavements came one after another, yet her Christian character only shone out the brighter.

“Though the death of her children tore with anguish the mother’s heart, she made no show of grief, and to the eye of the world her life soon appeared to move on as aforetime. Never again, however, was it exactly the same life. She had entered into the fellowship of Christ’s sufferings and the new experience wrought a great change in her whole being.” She was remarkably happy in the children spared to her, and in all her home life. A friend has written of her:

“I have ever regarded her as favored among women, blessed in doing her Master’s will and in testifying of Him, blessed in her home, in her friends, in her work and blessed in her death.”

FAYE HUNTINGTON.

_Volume 13, Number 43._ Copyright, 1886, by D. LOTHROP & CO. _August 28, 1886._

THE PANSY.

ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON.

BY MARGARET SIDNEY.

X.

GEORGE EDWARD ALLEN was now sixteen; hale, hearty, and full of fun. Truth compels me to state that he did not take first prize for English Composition, Latin, Mathematics, or even for general deportment, at the close of the summer term just past. He had no gold medals to carry home to his admiring parents, to be afterward hung up in his room for the delectation of any who might choose to examine. He was only an industrious, even-tempered boy of ordinary steady ability, but without the least capacity for shining before a large audience with the splendor of the examination hour.

He did have bestowed upon him, however, at the last moment, in various little rencontres with master and under teachers, several little pleasant attentions that made his heart thrill, and the warm blood mount his brown cheek.

“Allen, I must say I could give you a prize for loving the right, with all my heart.” This from the master, with that peculiar light in his gray eyes that seldom came; and because so seldom, was treasured deep by the one who brought it there. He went further: “My boy, I would give ten years of my life for such a son as you are.” They were in a side recitation room alone, and the master’s hand laid on the lad’s shoulder, no one saw, much less heard the words.

George Edward looked up quickly and gratefully.

“Good-by,” said the master. “If you want any help in vacation over a tough spot in any study, just drop me a hint of it.” There was a smile in the overworked face, that lighted up each hard line.

“Good-by, Allen,” said an under teacher regretfully, as George Edward ran down the passage, “I wish you were to be near me this summer; I shall miss you,” and Mr. Bryan put himself in the way of the boy’s advancement. “I want to thank you for your good influence in the class-room. For you have done more than the teacher sometimes,” he frankly added.

George Edward tried to protest, but it was no use. “Don’t be discouraged,” added the teacher kindly, “if prizes do not fall to you now; but keep on.”

“I should have liked to carry one home to father and mother,” said George Edward honestly.

“Of course; who of us does not?” assented Mr. Bryan. “Let me tell you though, my boy, that the prizes, though late often, that fall to industry and conscientious work, are better worth getting. Take that with you to think of this summer.”

The boys made loud protestations of regret, which goes without saying, at the necessary parting to come. How long the vacation seemed, looking from the standpoint of June. How impossible to wait till September before George Edward’s round countenance should burst upon them like a ray of sunshine, and his cheery voice call to some sport, in which they could see no hint of fun if he did not lead off. But all things are finally pronounced ended. So at last George Edward found himself at home, with the only prospect of enjoyment ahead of him, an invitation to visit at Uncle Frost’s.

“I’m sorry it’s all the outing we can give you this summer, my boy,” said Mother Allen soberly; “your father intended to take you if he went on the Maine trip, but Mr. Porter wanted the Western business done now, and that is altogether too expensive to be thought of.”

George Edward’s eyes glistened. That Western trip would have made a vacation beating every other boy’s that he had known. He broke out eagerly, “O mother—” then stopped. She looked pale and troubled.

“It’s a good enough place at Uncle Frost’s,” he finished indifferently; “when do I start?”

“No, it isn’t very pleasant,” said Mrs. Allen truthfully. “I’m sorry you couldn’t have gone into the country; but we can’t afford it unless I go and shut up the house, and I can’t do that, because grandma isn’t well, and must come here.”

“Never mind,” said George Edward, “there’s some fun in it, anyway. We’ll call it bully.”

“It will be a change,” said his mother, “and that’s all you can say, and you’ll have a chance to learn something new, and see other people.”

“When does he want me to come?” asked George Edward, dashing at the letter again.

“Next week,” said Mrs. Allen.

“All right; I’ll put my traps together, and be off. Gainesburg is the cry now,” cried George Edward.

But for once the boy was in luck. Two days after Uncle Frost’s house had received him, Mrs. Allen was reading the following letter:

MY DEAR MOTHER:

Hurrah—hurrah—hurrah! Uncle Frost is a brick (beg pardon, mother)! He’s given me a royal, out-and-out invite to go to the White Mountains with the family. Expenses all thrown in, etc., etc. Start on Saturday. Telegraph “yes” please.

Your affectionate Son, GEORGE EDWARD.

“Yes” was telegraphed over the hills on Thursday, and for two weeks our boy revelled in the bliss of mountain life, with quantities of fun, frolic and adventure thrown in by the way, to return all made over, to Uncle Frost’s, there to meet the ill news travelling fast over the electric wires:

“Your father died suddenly at St. Paul. Come at once.”

Had it come so soon? George Edward looked life in the face this vacation time, accepted his cross, bade good-by to all hopes of ever entering school or college life again, and thanked God for the situation in the drug store that the apothecary around the corner gave him.

His father’s affairs, well looked over, gave no hope of anything but the direst economy for the widow. As for the son, he must go to work, and at once.

“Now we will see if he holds out a saint,” one boy was mean enough to think, seeing George Edward hurry to his place of work every morning bright and early. Other eyes quite as sharp, though far from cruel, were on him. It was an awful ordeal for any boy to pass through; most of all, because of the commonplaceness of the sacrifice he was daily making. Had he marched up to the cannon’s mouth, and courted death to save his mother’s life, this would have been easy compared to the monotonous dead-level existence he was enduring. For to the active boy, alert for an excitement, wide awake for novelty, with every muscle crying out for exercise and change, the close confinement of the small store, and the routine work, were torture indeed. He began to show the effects of such a life, and in three weeks his mother was aghast to find that her boy had grown suddenly thin and pale.

“Why, George Edward,” she cried, “you can’t stay in that store.”

“I must,” said George Edward doggedly.

“But you will die,” cried poor Mrs. Allen, “then what shall I do?” And the tears began to come.

George Edward thought a bit. Then he said “There isn’t anything else, mother, only work on a farm. But it’s August now, who’d give me a chance at it, pray tell?”

“I shall try,” said his mother, rousing herself, “you will die where you are.” And she seized paper and pen and wrote the following:

A boy of sixteen who has just lost his father wishes a place to work on a farm for the remainder of the season. Only those persons of unexceptional references who wish such a farm hand not afraid to work, need apply to

MRS. E. C. ALLEN, —— ——

George Edward was in a fever of excitement, though he tried not to show it, all the next three days. His mother met with such poor success in her efforts to conceal her state of mind, that she went around the house, a bright spot in either cheek, scarcely able to set herself with calmness at any task. At last, on the evening of the third day, this letter was drawn from the post-office:

RESPECTED MADAM:

If your son really wants to work, send him on. Here’s a letter from my paster, maybe that will be satisfyin’. Three dollars a week an’ board. That’s what I pay. Yours to command,

JOB STEVENS, _Blueberry Hill_.

The “paster’s” letter reading remarkably well, and a friend investigating the matter with thoroughness for Mrs. Allen, finding it all right, George Edward’s trunk was packed, and he at once dispatched for Blueberry Hill.

It was evening when he arrived there.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

QUEEN ELIZABETH was the daughter of the wicked Henry the Eighth and of Anne Boleyn. Elizabeth was about three years old when she was left motherless. On the death of her sister Mary she ascended to the throne, and amid joyful acclamations was proclaimed queen.

As the grand procession moved along the queen was very kind and gracious, and the poor came up to her carriage, with nosegays for her, and when any one wanted to speak to her, she would stop the carriage. The coronation took place at Westminster. The crown was placed upon her head amidst great shouting and rejoicing. Elizabeth placed a ring upon her own finger, to signify that she was espoused to the realm of England, and that ring she wore for forty years.

Elizabeth was a fine scholar, and in many respects her reign was prosperous, but she was very irritable, and did several things which have marred and stained her name.

Of course there is very much to learn about her which you must read yourself in history. You will there be told all about her troubles with the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots, who was her relative, and who after being a prisoner in Fotheringay Castle for many years, was executed.

She was very beautiful. It is thought that Elizabeth envied her remarkable beauty, which is a very wicked thing to do. Elizabeth, though homely, was very vain, and dearly loved compliments.

At one time there were many pictures of the queen circulated, much resembling her, and therefore not very handsome. So the queen issued a formal proclamation against them, forbidding the people to sell them, and stating that an artist would be employed to make a true picture of her. What a pity she did not realize that beauty of mind, kindness of heart, nobleness of character, and above all, the true Christian spirit, were much more to be desired than anything so frail and perishable as human beauty. Never, in any reign, has England known such pomp and splendor as in Elizabeth’s time. She was fond of parade. She once went to church surrounded by a thousand men in armor, and drums and trumpets sounding.

You will read in her life about the Earl of Essex, who was a prime favorite with Elizabeth for a long time, but he offended her, and she caused him to be executed. She had once given him a ring, to be returned to her in case he ever needed her aid. When in prison he sent it, but it was intercepted. The queen got angry because the ring did not come, and therefore thought Essex was very proud. After his death, however, she learned about the ring, and was therefore thrown into deep distress, and soon pined away and died. She had about three thousand dresses at the time of her death, in her wardrobe. Her last words were, “Millions of worlds for an inch of time.”

She was buried in Westminster Abbey, where many of the great of England sleep in unbroken repose.

RINGWOOD.

OUR ALPHABET OF GREAT MEN.

S.—SAVONAROLA, GIROLAMO.

FOUR hundred and thirty-four years—1452-1886. What wonderful events have been taking place all along through these years since the young Girolamo first saw the light! And I have been wondering what Savonarola would have said and done had he lived in this nineteenth century. He is spoken of as one whose soul was stirred by ardent faith which burned through all obstacles; as a fervid orator and as a sagacious ruler, who evolved order out of chaos; as one who to maintain his cause of reform braved single-handed the whole power of the Papacy. He is described as a serious, quiet child, early showing signs of mental power. The books which were his favorites would, I fear, be pronounced dry by the boys of to-day. But although he was given to solid reading, he was fond of music and poetry, and even wrote verses himself. He enjoyed solitude, and loved to wander alone along the banks of the River Po. I ought to have told you that his native city was Ferrara, in Italy. He was expected to succeed his grandfather who was an eminent physician, and with that end in view he was carefully trained. But as he grew older, he found himself growing to regard the thought with disfavor, and as time went on he became convinced that “his vocation was to cure men’s souls instead of men’s bodies.” Yet he was for a long time restrained from entering upon the priesthood by regard for the hopes and desires of his parents. But at length after having made this his daily prayer, “Lord, teach me the way my soul must walk,” the path of duty became clear and he, avoiding the painful farewells, slipped away from home one day when the rest of the family were absent at a festival, writing an affectionate note of explanation and farewell. He entered a monastery at Bologna, where he gave himself up to the work of special preparation for the duties of his profession.

After some years he was sent to Florence to preach. At first his plain and severe denunciations of the prevailing sins of the time repelled the people who preferred to go where they could hear more polished and less conscience-awakening sermons, and Savonarola mourned over his apparent failure to reach the hearts of the multitude who were rushing on in the ways of sinful indulgence. But his soul was moved with zeal “for the redemption of the corrupt Florentines. He must, he would, stir them from their lethargy of sin.” He was convinced that he was in the line of duty, and the more indifferent his hearers were the more anxious he grew for their awakening. Actuated by this motive he suddenly found his voice and revealed his powers as an orator. God had shown him how to reach men’s hearts at last, and “he shook men’s souls by his predictions and brought them around him in panting, awestruck crowds;” then at the close of his denunciations of sin, his voice would sink into tender pleading and sweetly he would speak of the infinite love and mercy of God the Father.

After a time, St. Mark’s Church would not hold the crowds which came to hear him and he was invited to preach in the Cathedral. He was now acknowledged as a power in Florence, and the great Lorenzo de’ Medici who was then at the height of his fame as a ruler, was alarmed, and he sent a deputation of five of the leaders of the government to advise the monk to be more moderate in his preaching, hinting that trouble might follow a disregard of this advice. But the monk was unmoved. He replied, “Tell your master that although I am an humble stranger and he the city’s lord, yet I shall remain and he will depart.” He also declared that he owed his election to God, and not to Lorenzo, and to God alone would he render obedience.

Lorenzo was very angry, but he tried to silence the monk by bribery, but Savonarola would not be bribed nor driven. He continued to preach with great fervor, denouncing sin in high places as well as in low. You know that in those times corruption had crept into the Church of Christ, and it was against these sins of the Church that his most scathing denunciations were hurled. He had many followers, and he pushed his reforms in Church and State. His enemies grew more bitter and fiercer. Remonstrances from those in authority had no effect. He was offered a cardinal’s hat, but would not accept the conditions. He said, “I will have no hat but that of the martyr, red with mine own blood.”

And this was his fate; at last he was put to death in 1498. Almost his last words were, “You cannot separate me from the Church triumphant! that is beyond thy power.” In the convent of St. Mark’s are preserved various relics of the martyred monk, among which are his Bible with notes by his own hand, and a portrait said to have been painted by Fra Bartolommeo. I have seen a copy of this portrait. It is in profile, with the Friar’s cowl. At the first glance the expression of the prominent features seems strangely stern, but as you study the face it seems to soften and the sternness becomes sadness mingled with tenderness. One can imagine those worn and pallid features lighted up with excitement, the eyes animated and glowing with zeal, and the lips so expressive of power, relaxing into a smile even, and thus looking upon it we wonder not that crowds hung upon his words.

Hatred of sin, zeal for its removal from Church and State, seems to have been two of his strong characteristics. And he was ever bold and active in lifting up and carrying forward the standard of truth. If sometimes his zeal outran his wisdom and judgment, if sometimes his enthusiasm seemed to reach what we might call a religious frenzy in which he heard supernatural voices and saw visions, we can but believe in his sincerity and admire his boldness and commend his fearless exposure of sin. And as we study his character again and again we wonder as in the beginning of this sketch, how he would have acted in these days when sin “comes in like a flood!” Have we not need of a Savonarola? Have we not need of an army of strong, fearless men and women who shall lift up the standard of the Gospel against the tide of sin? One thought more: will each of my young readers enlist in this army and be diligent in preparing to meet the attacks of the enemy?

FAYE HUNTINGTON.

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THORWALDSEN was a Danish sculptor. Returning from Italy to his native land, he brought a great number of lovely works of art, which he packed in straw. When unpacked, the straw was strewn about the streets, and it so happened that it contained a great many seed. These took root, and before long flowers were blooming in Copenhagen, from those very seed. Every hour we are scattering seed: see that it be the kind that shall grow beauteous flowers.

MY DEAR PANSIES:

The game for this Midsummer “month of evenings,” is one that I especially commend to you. It will be enjoyed so very much longer after it has been played, and years to come whenever you think of the happy hour it engrossed you, you will always be very glad that you and your little friends played it.

This is the game:

THE WHEELING PARTY.

All who have carriages, or wagons, and a faithful horse or two in the generous barns at home, ask your father or uncle if they will loan them to you for an hour after supper on a pleasant evening, that all the players may choose. Those who have no wagons, or anything that a horse could draw, need not be debarred from joining in this game; possibly they can contribute a large cart, that they could propel themselves or, a boy not easily baffled, might join the procession, with an improvised floor on wheels on which soft cushions are piled.

At any rate, let the procession be formed, of every “go-able vehicle,” superintended by careful drivers, and where the space admits, carrying happy, merry-voiced children to make the poor invalids forget their sufferings.

Invalids? Yes, indeed, this is the “Invalids Wheeling Party,” the blessedest invention of modern times. The “Shut-in Society” brought out for a breath of fresh air—God’s poor children, who for wise reasons of His, are serving Him in narrow rooms of want, now, by the kind hands of children, admitted to the sweet peace of the summer eventide.

Do you not know them—these patient invalids? living perhaps very near to you. There is the little lame boy—the washerwoman’s son, who when she goes out to her work, minds the baby, and tries in his poor way to help mother. “Dot-and-go-one” you and the other children perhaps call him.

Wouldn’t it vary proceedings a bit if you were to send him a little note, saying something like this:

JIMMY:

Will you go to ride after supper with Frank and me?

EGBERT.

Or, there is old Mrs. Clemens. She is not pleasant-looking, to be sure; snuffy and disagreeable in her ways also. But she has not stepped out of her cottage only to go as far as the woodpile in five years. Think of it! Suppose now Mrs. Clemens should find under her door some fine morning a little white note in which the old lady should read:

DEAR MRS. CLEMENS:

Mary Alice Smith and I would like to give you a ride this evening after supper in my father’s wagon. I hope you can go.

SUSAN EMBURY.

Don’t you suppose the Clemens cottage would be a new place all that day?

And so on. Even if you do not personally know who is needing these sweet country drives, some one will be brought to your notice on inquiry.

When the procession is formed, let some one lead who is intelligent, as to the choice of a delightful locality (for invalids like to see something new and pretty), and the best way for getting there.

Then while the greatest cheerfulness prevails let there be no unnecessary noise, I beseech you, for your guests are unaccustomed to excitement, and are easily wearied. There should be sweet attentions, little courtesies, and the feeling of real enjoyment of giving hospitality on your part, but all done and expressed quietly.

Try it, dear Pansies, this little game, and see if you do not often play it these lovely summer evenings. I doubt not you will enjoy it as much as the invited guests of “The Wheeling Party.”

M. S.

THE PANSY.

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If a change of address is desired, the OLD as well as the new must be given.

Remittances may be made by Post Office Money Order, Draft, Bank Cheek, or American Express Money Order.

D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, Boston.

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_Willie_ from New York. My boy, I sent you the last badge a short time ago. I hope they are now all right. Let me hear from your society as often as you have anything interesting to tell us.

_Esca_ from Illinois. So you think you need more “sticktoativeness”! Good! Ever so many people do. I counted no less than ten different pieces of work which a boy of my acquaintance had commenced, and never finished. They were all worth finishing too. What a pity! Imagine a dress all done but the sleeves! Mammas do not work in that way; do they?

_Maude_ from Nebraska. Your letter was not too long, my dear; I was interested in it all. I have known a number of wise small people who, like yourself, made a great deal of trouble for themselves and their best friends, by trying to have their own way. It is generally a foolish thing to do. You must remember that it is not only “poor people” who are in need of kind acts and words. Some of the most unhappy persons I ever met, had plenty of money. What they needed was sympathy, and a few gentle, helpful words.

_Carrie_ from Indian Territory. My dear Blossom, struggling with your little garden away off from us, how glad we were to hear from you! It is the same old story, though, which we hear from all over the country; cross little tongues, speaking words that hurt, and for which they are sorry afterwards, and all because Dame Passion gets hold of them, and for the time makes them her slaves! Little Pixie too has her troubles. It is very hard not to be selfish; especially if we are surrounded by grown people who have been at work for a long time, teaching us to be selfish, by giving up everything for our pleasure. And there is little brother Tippie, wanting his own way, dreadfully! What busy gardeners you will have to be working at all these weeds! If you were to sit down and let them grow, I am afraid your buds would soon be choked. I am glad you are not going to do this.

_Amelia_ from Indian Territory. What a beautiful pledge you have taken! If you “do your duty in all things as long as you live,” you will be sure to be one of whom I can be always proud. I should like to hear from you often; and will always be glad to receive from you the history of some of your “kind words” spoken for Jesus’ sake.

_Walter_ from New York. It was a grand idea to join us on your birthday. I think the “lessons” must have felt the influence of that pledge. To be as good a boy as one can, is promising a great deal, but not too much if one is in tremendous earnest, as I think you are. We enroll your name with pleasure.

_Mary_ from Vermont. I like your pledge; so many people ask useless questions, wasting their time, and the patience of their friends, it is well to break the habit while you are young. A gentleman called on me the other day who had the same habit; he asked half a dozen questions, any one of which he might have answered for himself if he had used his eyes, and after sitting for half an hour, he turned to me and asked three of them over again!

_Mary_ from New Hampshire. Your promise covers a great deal of ground. If you keep it, you will be a true woman as long as you live. I like your verses, and will print them in THE PANSY as soon as we have room. I hope you find your badge helpful.

_Grace_ from New York. I could not have received the letter you mention. I am glad you wrote again. What a large pledge you have taken! To “do better in everything,” is surely worth one’s while. Your society needs no name but P. S. We are all branches of the great Pansy Society which reaches all over the country.

_Sarah_ from New York. We are glad to welcome you; may you be successful in your efforts, as you surely will be if you live by the Whisper Motto.

_Clara_ from Nebraska. I found your letter so full of helpful hints, my dear, that I have copied from it for the magazine. I am glad you find the badge a help.

_Josephine_, _Josephine_, _Mary_, _Robbie_, from New York. A bouquet of Blossoms pledged to do battle against the weeds in their heart-gardens. May you all succeed, and be fragrant flowers that shall give pleasure wherever you go, and bloom forever in the garden above. This is Pansy’s prayer for all her Blossoms.

_Florence_ from Ohio. The author of “My Brainless Acquaintance” sends you thanks for your kind opinion of him. He will try to interest you again. I am glad you find THE PANSY helpful in school. Look out for some lovely recitations in it.

_Lillia_ from Connecticut. I hope the badges have been made right long ago. I do not remember about it now, but I suppose the delay came from getting out of badges. So many P. S. Blossoms sprang up at once all over the country, that the first we knew, they had gotten ahead of us. I am much interested in your society, and would like to hear from it again. I will quote from your letter for the magazine, that some other Pansies may get a hint from it how to employ their time.

_Mabel_ from Dakota. You have a great deal of company, my dear Mabel, in the matter of wanting your own way. So that you are sure it is the _right_ way, I don’t believe anybody will object. Shall I tell you how to be sure of getting it? Have your way always _exactly_ what will most honor Jesus.

_Claude_ from New York. Yes, I was once in Castile, and at Miss Green’s; I loved her dearly, and owe her a great debt of gratitude. I shall certainly come and see you if I visit your town. I think I would like about a bushel of those “black caps.” So your hasty temper troubles you? Temper is a very good thing if we put it under the right Master. Take yours to Him, and ask Him to guard it for you.

_Pearl_ from Indiana. My dear, I think you must have a lovely walk through the woods to school. I am glad you have decided to have nothing to do with cards; I once heard a good man say: “They belong to the enemy’s country; they gather under the flag which is a sign of rebellion to King Jesus, so I will have nothing to do with them.” I think that would be a very good rule for the Pansies to follow. Whatever Satan makes marked use of, to injure others, I will not touch.

_Lita_ from Illinois. I hope you will succeed in overcoming the fault. There is a sense in which it makes no difference whether or not I know its name. You know, and Jesus knows; but if the Pansies choose to tell us, it sometimes helps others.

_Alice and Emma_ from Wisconsin. Since you are dear friends, and wrote me together, you will let me reply in the same way. I am glad to welcome you both to our P. S. Glad also to hear that you both love and serve the Lord Jesus. I hope your lives will be full of fragrance, and suggest His name to all who know you.

_Jennie_ from Connecticut. I don’t know when I have enjoyed a story more than the pleasant one you wrote me about that industrious society. It told me a great many things; among others, that you have dear helpful mothers, and friends. What should we do in this world without the mothers who stand ready to help every effort of ours toward usefulness, or right living? I hope you heard from the dolls. Write and tell us how they were enjoyed.

_Milly_ from Pennsylvania. What a very fine beginning of a library you have! I wish you had told us how you managed the books and what class of books you had. How do you raise your money? When you hear from some of those colored schools, will you tell us what they said to the help you sent them?

_Hermon_ from Massachusetts. Prompt obedience is a very important habit to form. It is a pleasure to me to notice how many young people are resolved upon cultivating it. I think “Moses” has a responsible life to live if he is to do honor to his name. I am not sure but “Aaron” was wise in running away. At least, one can overlook running away from duty when it is only a dog; but what shall be said of a boy or girl who does the same?

_Finice_ from Kentucky. Is that the right name? I am not sure. “Hard lessons” make a great deal of trouble in this world; but I know a secret about them: they become easy as soon as they are learned; so for one’s own sake it is worth while to overcome them. Sometimes, schoolmates are very provoking, and it is hard to keep one’s temper with them; but the boy or girl who does it soon acquires an influence over his mates that others cannot have. I hope you know where to look for help in keeping these pledges?

_Fannie_ from Kentucky. Do you think “all” little girls would really like to overcome their faults? I have seen some young people whose gravest fault seemed to me to be that they cared very little about improving their habits, or getting control of their tongues or tempers. I welcome you as one who is not of that company.

_Chester_ from Oregon. A “treasurer” is a very important officer in the P. S., my boy, provided they have any money to care for; and most of the societies have. They contrive ways of earning money, to spend in benevolent work of some sort. It depends entirely on yourselves how you will raise money, to what you will devote it, and how you will manage your society. As a rule, the one who secures subscribers and starts a club, becomes president; but if he, or she, thinks some other person would make a better officer, one can be elected from the membership. I like your pledge. The truth is, a boy who has a good mother, and who always minds her promptly, is sure to be a boy to honor.

_Lois_ from Kentucky. “Cross” words make a great deal of trouble in this world. Did you ever notice that they not only hurt the ones to whom they are spoken, and the ones who hear them, but also those who speak them! What a pity to cling to a habit which hurts in every direction! I am glad you are going to be free.

_Lillie_, _Edna_, _Harry_, _Walter_, _Rose_, _Thad_, from Kansas. A full bouquet which bloomed together! We welcome you, every one. Let me see what weeds are to be rooted out; “Getting angry and answering back,” “Forgetting work,” “Carelessness,” “Speaking cross words,” “Being too noisy.” Just imagine what earnest work will have to be done in getting rid of all these choking weeds! Besides these, one Blossom is going to keep careful watch over a set of pearls which have been given her for her own use. She knows that if she takes proper care of them they will be beautiful and helpful all her life; and that if she neglects them, they will become her enemies. I wish you all great success, and will hope to hear from you.

_Freddie_ from New York. So you have a watch to prove to you what a little persevering work will accomplish? Good! The people who get discouraged seldom accomplish much. I hope your temper will, after this, keep as good time as your watch; and that you will be as prompt to follow orders as _it_ is to tick. My boy, you have a special work to do for your mother, in trying to fill your dear father’s place as much as you can. I hope you will be one of her greatest blessings.

_Mattie and Philemon_ from Georgia. A “careless” Blossom and an “impatient” one starting together! Good! I fancy that the careless ways may sometimes provoke the impatient words; and so you two can surely help each other. We shall hope to hear of your great success.

_Frank_ from Massachusetts. “Kind words” are needed everywhere, my boy; but I do not know that they will do more good anywhere than at school among the scholars. I have often wondered at the rough words I heard floating out on the air as I passed playgrounds. If one boy sets an example of kindness and courtesy to all the young people around him, who can tell how the habit may spread, and cause many Blossoms to spring up?

_Davenport_ from Massachusetts. Glad to welcome you; I hope your badge is helping you in all the ways in which you need help. Thank your kind sister for writing in your name. I think she is a very excellent writer for one so young. Let me hear what you are doing, in which your badge has been a help.

_Arthur_ from New Jersey. Ever so many people “don’t want to do the thing which they ought next to do.” Did you know that? the great difference between them is, that some people seize hold of the thing they didn’t want to do, and do it; while some growl around, or whine around, and leave it undone as long as they can. I am glad to know you are, from this time, to belong to the first class.

_Robbie_ from New York. I am very glad to welcome you to the P. S. I am much interested in the club of which you are a member, and would be glad to hear from it from time to time. You did not give me the special habit which you are trying to conquer, but I suppose you know, very well, which it is, and are doing brave work over it.

_Florence_ from New York. When you “get the better” of your temper, and are its mistress instead of being controlled by it, what a happy Blossom you will be! Some people do not think this can be done, but I am sure it can by any one who truly wishes to do so, and seeks and finds the right sort of help.

_Kimball_ from Illinois. Welcome to our garden. “Talking back” is a weed which chokes many flowers; quite hides their sweetness oftentimes. Root it out. Thank you for the kind invitation. I should like to accept it, but fear I will not have time. Will you give my love to grandma, and all the dear ones, and thank them for their kind words to me?

EXTRACTS FROM PANSY LETTERS.

DEAR PANSY:

I would like to become a member of the P. S. I am a little girl seven years old. My mamma is an invalid and I am hands and feet for her as she sits in her invalid chair. I have a brother and sister in Heaven.

My little sister Nellie was four years and a half old when she died. She would have made a good member of the P. S., for mamma says she took for her motto in everything, “For Jesus’ sake.” One day, before she was sick, she said to mamma, “Me do love Jesus _so_ much, mamma, me want to go see Him, and sing praise to Him.” Then she would hold out her little arms, as though she was reaching up to some one, and ask mamma when she thought God would send for her. One morning after looking at a sunrise, she said, “Mamma, it looks like the golden streets of Heaven.” I wanted to write to you about this little sister, for I thought she would have made such a dear little Pansy. Now she is a Blossom in God’s garden.

I live on a farm, but it is right by a little village. I play with lambs, and ducks, and calves. My chickens follow me around and get under my feet sometimes, so I can scarcely walk. I can pick them up and pat them, any time. I wish to overcome two bad habits: selfishness and whining. I had a gold ring to help me keep from whining; I had it last fall, and it cured me until this spring; then the habit come back so bad I had to give mamma the ring. Now I am going to try what the badge and motto will do. I’ve tried the motto before, and it _always_ helped. But someway, dear Pansy, I do not always keep hold of the Help. Mamma says she thinks it might do grown people good to belong to a Pansy Society. We have a great many of your books in our home. Mamma gets a new one every year; we lend them to people to read. I hope I have not tired you with my letter.

Yours, truly and lovingly, BLANCHE PERKINS.

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DEAR PANSY:

We are two little brothers away down in Va. We have taken THE PANSY for four years. We like it more and more, and we love you very much. We have two bad habits. We don’t keep things in place and we dispute with each other. We found a bumblebee’s house in a part of an old barn. It had fifteen apartments and two ways of entering them. The doors were little round caps which looked something like stiff, dark brown paper. Our love for you and all the Blossoms.

Your little Pansies, DAVIS WILSON. R. P. WILSON.

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DEAR PANSY:

The boys in our society are making banners and books for the children in the hospital. The girls are sewing dresses for the little orphans who are found; they have hardly any clothes to cover them when they are found. Our Sunday-school teacher has taken a great deal of interest in our society. She has given us twenty-three books, and a great many cards. We have learned a good many missionary hymns from the cards. We have a library of sixty-three books; and a friend is going to give us some more. We meet every Saturday at my house; we are going to use our money to help provide schools for little colored children. There are about thirty members of our society. We all want to see you; we wish you would come and visit us. We will be much obliged to see you any Saturday between half-past two and half-past five. I must bid you good-by.

Your faithful friend, MILLY.

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DEAR PANSY:

I would like to join the P. S. And I will try to overcome the habit of talking back. I am afraid I will have hard work and will need much help. I have taken THE PANSY for four years, and I like it ever so much. I like “Reaching Out” the best of all. Mother thinks “Hedge Fence” was the best, for boys. I have been in school for two winters. I am nine years old. I belong to a Bible class.

With a little of grandma’s help, I got ten new subscribers for THE PANSY. When you go West, won’t you stop off and make us a visit? Because you would find lots of friends here. There are four of us in this family, grandma, papa, mamma, and I. And we will all be glad to see you. We all feel acquainted with you, because we have two of your pictures, and lots of your books.

Mamma says if I am a Pansy I must be a bronze one. Can you guess why? Some time I will tell you “Where I Went and What I Saw,” in a summer trip; but this summer I am to be one of the “stay at homes.”

Your friend, KIMBALL GREENOUGH.

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DEAR PANSY:

In “Where I Went, and What I Saw,” you once told about some Bible verses, the first letters of which would spell “Our Sabbath School.”

I thought I would find some like them:—

O righteous Father, the world hath not known thee; but I have known thee; and these have known that thou hast sent me.—_John_ xvii:25.

U nderstanding is a wellspring of life unto him that hath it: but the instruction of fools, is folly.—_Proverbs_ xvi:22.

R emember the word that I said unto you, The servant is not greater than his lord.—_John_ xv:20.

S uffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of God.—_Mark_ x:14.

A bide in me and I in you; as the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; no more can ye, except ye abide in me.—_John_ xv:4.

B ehold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us that we should be called the sons of God.—_1 John_ iii:1.

B y this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God, and keep His commandments.—_1 John_ v:2.

A s the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you. Continue ye in my love.—_John_ xv:9.

T hese things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.—_John_ xv:11.

H erein is my Father glorified that ye bear much fruit; so shall ye be my disciples.—_John_ xv:8.

S tudy to show thyself approved unto God; a workman that needeth not to be ashamed.—_2 Tim._ ii:15.

C ome unto me all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.—_Matt._ xi:28.

H enceforth I call you not servants, for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth: but I have called you friends.—_John_ xv:15.

O Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee.—_Psalms_ lxxxiv:12.

O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?—_Matt._ xiv:31.

L et not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.—_John_ xiv:1.

ARTHUR W. FISHER.

DEAR PANSY:

I am trying to overcome my habits very hard. My great fault is to get mad so easy. And sometimes I pout when I get mad. I go off by myself, often, and ask the Lord to help me to quit such a habit. Please help me to overcome such a fault. Now my little sister Pixie wants to belong to our Band. Her fault is selfishness; she thinks she ought to have everything that is pretty. She tries to tear my PANSIES every time she gets them. Still, she loves to read them. Mamma and I think they are ever so nice. I won’t let Pixie have my PANSIES because I want to keep them nice; she says mamma ought to subscribe for her. I hope she will grow better as she grows older; she is very young. Now my brother Tippie, he wants to join us; he is so contrary, he don’t know what to do. But mamma says he isn’t contrary with anybody but Pixie and me. Please let me have a letter of my own from you.

I am your little eight-year-old CHEROKEE BLOSSOM.

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DEAR PANSY:

I like our magazine very much. I am eleven years old. I recited a piece at school that I learned from THE PANSY. It was very much liked. I am going to have my magazines bound. I like the story “My Brainless Acquaintance” almost better than anything else. My little sister enjoys the pictures. I thought the last number was _never_ going to come! Don’t you think a month is a long time to wait? Good-by.

FLORENCE ROBINSON.

A FAMILY FLIGHT THROUGH SPAIN.

DID you carefully read what I said about the Horners in their flight through Egypt and Syria? And do you remember it in detail, as to price, appearance, etc? No, of course you don’t. Who ever heard of these giddy girls and boys remembering anything for a month? Oh! Oh! I can hear your indignant voices. Well, that is too bad; and I believe in my heart as many of you as sent for the book and read it, have a very vivid and delightful memory of the family and their experiences. But for the benefit of the new Pansies, and of those who could not or did not send for the other book, let me introduce you to this one by the same authors, and offer it to you on the same excellent terms: one dollar and twenty cents, if you are willing to have it bound in boards, and one dollar and fifty cents if you want it in cloth. Remember, that is a dollar cheaper than any others can get it; a special offer to the members of the P. S.

I had no idea that Spain was so interesting a country until I travelled with the Horners. I think now that it makes a very great difference about one’s enjoyment in travelling, who their companions are. I am very fond of Bessie Horner, and for that matter of Tommy himself, while Mr. Hervey is fully as good a friend of mine as he is of the other travellers. This beautiful book which gives the story of the flight through Spain, is very fully illustrated, giving one an excellent idea of the country, its birds, its fruits, its buildings, etc. For instance, take this description of

THE ALHAMBRA.

Under the Moors, the Alhambra was the scene of many romantic events, the legends connected with which still people its courts with phantoms. The road leading up from the hotel to the entrance is shaded with tall trees, and the water trickles down the side, making the grass fresh and green. The walls are of a beautiful red or orange color, which is shared by the soil; this alone gives a glowing aspect to the scene. The chief place of entrance is called the Gate of Justice. It is more than a gate, being a square tower, the upper part of which contains rooms where people live. Their little flower pots filled with bright blossoms, stand on the ledge of the window. The horseshoe arch of entrance is below; for as the ground is terraced, the level of the palace is above that of the arch, and is approached by an ascent, and a staircase within the tower.

Over this arch there is carved an outstretched hand pointing upward, to avert the evil eye; over the second one a key is sculptured; a symbol of the power of the prophet to open and shut the gates of heaven. The passages within the tower wind about under several arches, until they lead out and up to the walled-in plateau, on which the Alhambra stands. A little farther on is another gateway, and building, called the Puerto del Vino; it formerly contained a Mihrab, or Moorish chapel.

From the high terrace near these two gates is a lovely view across the deep ravine to the Sierra Nevada, always slightly touched with snow, and taking on beautiful lights, according to the time of day: dark blue in the morning, and, as evening approaches, roseate; for in addition to the sunset tints, the natural color of the soil and stone make the tone of the range warm and rich. Here opens a large plaza, called the Place of the Cisterns, on one side of which is the Alcazaba, or fortress, with its dismantled castle, while opposite it appears the palace of Charles the Fifth, which he began to build, but never finished. He destroyed the greater part of the beautiful winter palace of the Moors, to make room for his own, and afterward abandoned his plan, leaving the unfinished ruin, with open arches, staring to the sky. It is said that earthquakes discouraged him from going on with his palace. There are planted garden beds, and walks leading along the side of it, to a plain, unadorned wall, through which a door leads to the real glories of the Alhambra.

Here found themselves one morning, Mr. Horner and Miss Lejeune, Bessie and Tommy; Bessie grumbling, as usual, at Charles the Fifth, and Ferdinand and Isabella, who have left their traces so often in the destruction of Moorish ornament.

“I do believe,” said Bessie, “that Isabella herself rode on a whitewash brush!”

“Perhaps she was the—

Old woman, old woman, said I, To sweep the cobwebs from the sky!“

said Tommy.

They passed on through the gate. Charles the Fifth and Isabella were forgotten. The transition was magical; they felt at once transported into other times, and were treading the scenes of the Arabian Nights. They were in the Court of Myrtles, a long, open patio, of which the floor is taken up by an immense basin, more than a hundred feet long, bordered by myrtle-trees and roses. It is surrounded by a light arcade of Moorish columns, and at the upper end rises the great Tower of Comares. The pillars here and elsewhere are of extreme lightness, and the ornamentation of the capital varies in each; slender arches spring from the capitals, and bend gracefully till they meet. A dado of azulejos, or colored tiles, runs along the wall, from the floor of brightest colors, with great variety of patterns. The eye is never tired of following these designs, nor those of the arabesque work above, into which are woven Arabic sentences, in the graceful lettering of that language. Across the water is seen the vista made by the entrance to the Hall of Ambassadors, the chief room of the Tower of Comares. The tower and its colonnades are reflected in the clear still water of the pool.

“Oh, how lovely!” exclaimed Miss Lejeune. “This surpasses all my dreams of it.”

“Let us stay here, and not go any further to-day!” said Bessie.

Tommy was well content to study the goldfish in the clear water, rather startled, as he leaned over, to catch the perfect reflection of his own face on the surface of the pool, with behind it an intensely blue sky studded with woolly white clouds. He looked up instinctively, and saw above the graceful fretwork of the court, the real bright sky and clouds, just like the mirrored ones.

“Our guide apparently expects us to move on,” remarked Mr. Horner. “We can let him gallop us through once, and then come at our leisure as often as we like.”

“Not gallop us, papa,” said Bessie, taking hold of his hand; “a quiet little trot will satisfy him.”

They were led into the Court of Lions, where Bessie was at once in love with the somewhat clumsy animals of Arab origin, that form the group of the fountain in the centre.

“I must embrace this one!” she cried, and did so, to Tommy’s disgust and mortification. He looked round to see if there were any observers.

These lions must not be looked upon as efforts of sculpture to represent accurately the king of beasts, but as emblems of strength and courage. They are of white marble, with manes like the scales of a griffin, and water comes from their mouths.

THREE NUMBERS FREE!

EVERY PERSON SENDING US

$3.00

BEFORE AUGUST 15

FOR ONE YEAR’S SUBSCRIPTION TO

WIDE AWAKE

Beginning with the SEPTEMBER number, will receive the first three numbers of the present volume, JUNE, JULY and AUGUST,

=FREE!!=

The remittance must be forwarded direct to the Publishers before August 15, 1886.

D. LOTHROP & CO., PUBLISHERS, BOSTON.

=FREE!=

A Book Heretofore sold for One Dollar.

=THE GREATEST INDUCEMENT EVER OFFERED.=

=COOKERY FOR BEGINNERS,=

BY MARION HARLAND,

Author of “Common Sense in the Household,” etc.,

=Will be presented to every person sending his own (or a friend’s) yearly subscription= to either THE PANSY or OUR LITTLE MEN AND WOMEN, at the regular subscription price, $1.00, direct to the Publishers, before September 1st.

=Or, the book will be presented to every person= sending =TWO= subscriptions to BABYLAND, with $1.00 for the same.

=THESE OFFERS ARE UNPARALLELED,=

And you should take advantage of them, before they are withdrawn. The Publishers have never before offered inducements to those sending their own subscriptions, and probably never will again. Send your subscription with the $1.00 at once.

The book, “Cookery for Beginners,” has always been cataloged and sold in cloth binding at the low price of $1.00. But we have made a new edition in oiled, waterproof paper covers, containing the same matter and same number of pages as the previous editions. It consists of plain, practical lessons for girls and young housekeepers of small means. Its directions are to be relied upon, and its results are invariably delicate, wholesome and delicious. It possesses the advantage of being perfectly adapted to the needs of beginners. Mothers cannot give their daughters a more sensible and useful present than this volume. It is a most valuable addition to the home library.

=D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, Franklin and Hawley Sts., Boston.=

THERE IS NO DOUBT OF IT!

The American and English Press, the Fathers and Mothers, as well as the Young Folks themselves, _agree_ that

_is_ the Best Magazine for young people in this country or abroad.

=YOU= who know the large delight and practical good the magazine carries wherever it goes, by introducing it to the young people about you, can win their thanks, and a liberal return from the Publishers. D. LOTHROP & CO. wish to engage at once

=10,000 YOUNG PEOPLE, AND 10,000 FRIENDS OF YOUNG PEOPLE=

to do this; and therefore for the next two months they make the following

Great Offer:

To each club of five (5) subscribers they will reduce the price of same _from $15.00 to only $10.00_, and _also_ give a year’s subscription to the getter-up of the club, or $2.00 in cash, as may be preferred.

The Next Volumes

will surpass in surprising features the unprecedented successes of the present year. Be sure to send for Prospectuses.

will be the following:

August 1. “COMRADES.” By Edmund H. Garrett. One of the most delightful pictures in the series; a rich old-time interior, a white-bearded, white-ruffed grandpapa teaching a beautiful boy the cup-and-ball play, a big staghound at the right, two King Charles spaniels at the left, a hooded falcon on a perch above.

August 15. “A MANORIAL PIGEON-TOWER.” By Henry Bacon, the well-known American artist-author of Paris. The dovecote is in the background, in the foreground the pretty French maid feeding the pretty pigeons.

_Already issued_:

Oct. 1. LITTLE BROWN MAIDEN. _Kate Greenaway._ Oct. 15. ON NANTUCKET SHORE. _F. Childe Hassam._ Nov. 1. IN GRANDMOTHER’S GARDEN. _W. T. Smedley._ Nov. 15. THE DREAM PEDLER. _E. H. Garrett._ Dec. 1. MORNING. _F. H. Lungren._ Dec. 15. EVENING. _F. H. Lungren._ Jan. 1. WILD DUCKS. _Charles Volkmar._ Jan. 15. IN HOLLAND. _F. Childe Hassam._ Feb. 1. THE THREE FISHERS. _Thomas Hovenden._ Feb. 15. UNDER THE ELECTRIC LIGHT. _F. H. Lungren._ Mar. 1. TWO CONNOISSEURS. _T. W. Wood, N.A._ Mar. 15. LOST. _W. L. Taylor._ Apr. 1. THE PIPERS. _Jessie Curtis Shepherd._ Apr. 15. ON EASTER DAY. _W. L. Taylor._ May 1. THE YOUNG EMPEROR COMMODUS. _Howard Pyle._ May 15. A VENETIAN AFTERNOON. _Joseph Pennell._ June 1. UP A TREE. _Miss L. B. Humphrey._ June 15. LITTLE GREAT-GRANDPAPA’S SINGING-LESSON. _Frank T. Merrill._ July 1. THE MINUTE MEN. _Hy. Sandham._ July 15. A SUNNY NOOK. _Walter Shirlaw._

The WIDE AWAKE ART PRINTS are sent postpaid in pasteboard tubes for 50 cents each. Half yearly subscription, $5.50; yearly, $10.00.

The Press says of the beauty and art educational value of the ART PRINTS:

_An admirable Art Enterprise! We can very cordially praise the new_ WIDE AWAKE ART PRINTS. _They are wholly charming, and the idea of their publication is unique and entitled to frank commendation. We could wish that such charming gems of art could be in every home, for wherever they are they will not only be a source of very great pleasure but they have a very important educational value._—Boston Post.

The Publishers send greetings and congratulations to all the boys, all the girls, all the brothers, all the sisters, all the cousins, uncles, aunts, grandfathers and grandmothers, who have for the last four years been incessantly writing inquiries as to the fate of “John North,” the hero of

“_The Silver City_” and “_Cacique John_,”

and they hereby inform them severally and collectively that in the December number of WIDE AWAKE will be begun a splendid serial story by Mr. Ober, entitled

“MONTEZUMA’S GOLD MINES,”

of which the same “John North” is the hero.

=TEACHERS!=

_Please read the following_ UNSOLICITED _testimonial as to the value of_ BABYLAND _and_ OUR LITTLE MEN AND WOMEN _in school work_:

“I wish it were possible to send you our little six-year children to read for you from these splendid little journals. Their progress in three months has been remarkable. Our work in reading is the wonder of this city and Portland, and we owe these excellent results to you for furnishing us such bright and entertaining papers.

W. A. WETZELL, _Supt. of City Schools, E. Portland, Ore_”

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The July WIDE AWAKE gives to its subscribers a fine photogravure of French’s famous statue of the Minute Man at Concord, Mass. It accompanies the stirring ballad of “The Minute Men” by Margaret Sidney, commemorative of “the Shot Heard Round the World.”

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The Southern custom of “Strawberry Day” is celebrated in a poem in the July WIDE AWAKE by Susan Coolidge; the large strawberry-growers of some sections having established the beautiful observance of giving the first day’s pickings to the sick and the poor.

THE HOUSEHOLD LIBRARY.

=$5.00 a Year, 50 cts. a Number.=

The Choicest Works of Popular Authors, issued monthly.

The works issued in this library are uniformly of a high standard and may well come under that class of literature styled “home fiction,” a literature, that, while free from the flashy, sensational effect of much of the fiction of to-day, is, nevertheless, brilliant in style, fresh and strong in action, and of absorbing interest. It is a class that all the young folks, as well as the fathers and mothers and older brothers and sisters, may read with profit as well as great pleasure.

=1. THE PETTIBONE NAME, by Margaret Sidney=, author of _The Five Little Peppers_, etc. It is a delightful story of New England life and manners, sparkling in style, bright and effective in incident, and of intense interest. There has been no recent figure in American fiction more clearly or skilfully drawn than Miss Judith Pettibone. Most of the characters of the book are such as may be met with in any New England village.

=2. MY GIRLS, by Lida A. Churchill.= A story of four ambitious girls. Their struggles to realize their ambitions and their trials and successes, make a story of intense interest.

=3. WITHIN THE SHADOW, by Dorothy Holroyd.= “The most successful book of the year.” “The plot is ingenious, yet not improbable, the character drawing strong and vigorous, the story throughout one of brilliancy and power.” “The book cannot help making a sensation.”—_Boston Transcript._

=4. FAR FROM HOME.= From the German of Johannes Van Derval. Translated by =Kathrine Hamilton=. A fascinating story of life and travel in foreign lands.

=5. GRANDMOTHER NORMANDY, by the author of Silent Tom.= The story is fascinatingly told. The character of Grandmother Normandy, stern, relentless and unforgiving, almost to the last, is strongly drawn, and the author has shown much skill in the construction of the story.

=6. AROUND THE RANCH, by Belle Kellogg Towne.= It is original, fresh, and written with great naturalness and power; its pathos is exquisitely touching. The opening scenes are laid in the Colorado mining regions.

=7. A FORTUNATE FAILURE, by Caroline B. LeRow.= The author of this charming book is widely known as a successful writer of magazine stories. In this story, the principal character is the sweet, bright and ambitious daughter of a New Hampshire farmer, who has been placed at boarding-school by a rich aunt, where her development is traced under the surrounding influences.

=8. BUT HALF A HEART, by Marie Oliver.= The author has won an enviable reputation as a writer of the higher and purer class of fiction. This is the story of a girl’s life, and is intense in interest, elevated in tone.

=9. MORE WAYS THAN ONE, by Alice Perry=, author of “Esther Pennefather.” A story of singular beauty and power.

=10. VIOLET DOUGLAS; or, the Problems of Life, by Emma Marshall.= It pictures the beauty and nobleness of a life of active and unselfish devotion to the welfare of others.

=11. THE TALBURY GIRLS.= A very sweet story, with great fulness of incident and insight into different spheres of life.

=12. A WHITE HAND, by Ella Farman.= A story of American society, by the editor of WIDE AWAKE.

LOTHROP’S YOUNG PEOPLE’S LIBRARY.

Nothing so good and cheap is anywhere to be found. Each volume has 300 to 500 pages, illustrated. Price 25 cts. Postpaid

1. TIP LEWIS AND HIS LAMP, by Pansy. 2. MARGIE’S MISSION, by Marie Oliver. 3. KITTY KENT’S TROUBLES, by Julia A. Eastman. 4. MRS. HURD’S NIECE, by Ella Farman Pratt, Editor of Wide Awake. 5. EVENING REST, by J. L. Pratt. 6. THE TRIPLE “E,” by the author of Yensie Walton. 7. SHINING HOURS, by a brilliant author. 8. THE OLD STONE HOUSE, by Anne March (Constance Fenimore Woolson). 9. BATTLES LOST AND WON, by George E. Merrill. A story of schoolboy life. 10. THE JUDGE’S SONS, by Mrs. E. D. Kendall. 11. SHELL COVE, by Rev. Z. A. Mudge. 12. LUTE FALCONER, by the author of Andy Luttrell. A story of rare interest.

These twelve volumes constitute the first year’s series.

The twelve volumes announced below constitute the second year’s series.

13. FABRICS, by the author of Finished, or Not. 14. THE PRINCE AND THE PAGE, by Miss C. M. Yonge. A story of the last Crusade. 15. MYRA SHERWOOD’S CROSS, AND HOW SHE BORE IT. 16. THIS ONE THING I DO, by Mrs. A. E. Porter. 17. SO AS BY FIRE, by Margaret Sidney. 18. OLD SCHOOLFELLOWS, AND WHAT BECAME OF THEM. 19. ROSE AND MILLIE, by the author of Hester’s Happy Summer. 20. VEIL ON THE HEART (The), by Miss L. L. Phelps. 21. THE NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE, by the author of The New Commandment. 22. FROM NIGHT TO LIGHT, by E. E. Brown. 23. SURE; or, IT PAYS. 24. SISTER ELEANOR’S BROOD, by Mrs. S. B. Phelps.

AN UNSURPASSED PREMIUM OFFER.

TAMMEN’S ROCKY MOUNTAIN JUVENILE CABINET.

This beautiful and instructive set of minerals will be sent to any subscriber to one of our magazines who will send us one new subscriber to THE PANSY, or OUR LITTLE MEN AND WOMEN, or for two new subscribers to BABYLAND. We will send =three= of the Cabinets to any subscriber who will send us one new subscriber to WIDE AWAKE.

Address all orders to D. Lothrop & Co., Boston.

=FIELD BOTANY.=

Given to any subscriber sending one new subscriber to BABYLAND and =10 cents cash additional=, before Sept. 15th.

A Handbook for the Collector, containing Instructions for gathering and preserving Plants and the formation of Herbarium. Also complete Instructions in leaf Photography, Plant Printing and the Skeletonizing of Leaves. By WALTER P. MANTON. Illustrated. Price, 50 cents.

From the first page to the last it is practical, and tells the young botanist exactly what it is most desirable to know.

=TAXIDERMY WITHOUT A TEACHER.=

Given to any subscriber sending one new subscriber to BABYLAND and =10 cents cash additional=, before Sept. 15th.

Comprising a complete Manual of Instruction for preparing and preserving Birds, Animals and Fishes; with a chapter on Hunting and Hygiene; together with Instructions for preserving Eggs and making Skeletons, and a number of valuable recipes. By WALTER P. MANTON. Illustrated. Price, 50 cents.

=INSECTS.=

Given to any subscriber sending one new subscriber to BABYLAND and =10 cts. cash additional= before Sept. 15th.

How to catch and how to prepare them for the Cabinet, Comprising a Manual of Instruction for the Field Naturalist. By WALTER P. MANTON. Cloth, illustrated. Price, 50 cents.

The young naturalist will seize this book with avidity and study it with an earnestness proportioned to his delight in bug-catching.

Two of the above books given to any subscriber sending us one new subscription to THE PANSY or OUR LITTLE MEN AND WOMEN.

regard to the attractive objects of nature around them; and their future mental activity—or stupidity—depends largely upon the answers they receive. _Parents_ and _teachers_ should, therefore, be able to encourage and satisfy the first cravings of their inquiring minds. To aid in this, and to afford abundant entertainment more pleasing than toys, far cheaper and more instructive than mere amusement, we have secured a large quantity of the Rocky Mountain Cabinets expressly for our special premium use. Each Juvenile Cabinet contains 4 specimens of gold, 3 of silver, 1 zinc, 1 lead, 3 iron, 2 copper ores—each a different variety—1 agate (surface polished), opalized wood, rock crystal, silicified wood, molydenum, Iceland spar, topaz, 2 jaspers, dendrite, tourmaline, opal agate, arragonite, milky quartz, sulphur, selenite, Amazon stone, feldspar, fluorspar, variscite, chalcedony, petrified wood, alabaster, mica, wavellite, etc. The specimens in this cabinet are in a strong pasteboard box, divided into 40 sections. A descriptive manual is sent with each cabinet. Price 85 cents postpaid.

=A BOY’S WORKSHOP.=

Given to any subscriber sending one new subscriber to THE PANSY or OUR LITTLE MEN AND WOMEN before Sept. 15th.

By A BOY AND HIS FRIENDS. With an introduction by Henry Randall Waite. A fascinating little volume full of practical ideas for the benefit of boys who are getting their first training in the use of tools. Price, $1.

Subscriptions to the Magazines given as Premiums.

These Special Offers are good only to Sept. 15th.

We will send WIDE AWAKE one year, free, for new subscriptions to any of the four magazines (Wide Awake, The Pansy, Our Little Men and Women and Babyland) amounting to $6.00.

We will send THE PANSY one year, free, for new subscriptions to any of the four magazines (Wide Awake, The Pansy, Our Little Men and Women and Babyland) amounting to $2.00.

We will send OUR LITTLE MEN AND WOMEN one year, free, for new subscriptions to any of the four magazines (Wide Awake, The Pansy, Our Little Men and Women and Babyland) amounting to $2.00.

We will send BABYLAND one year, free, for new subscriptions to any of our magazines (Wide Awake, The Pansy, Our Little Men and Women and Babyland) amounting to $1.00.

=D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, Franklin and Hawley Sts., Boston.==

GOOD HOUSEKEEPING

A SEMI-MONTHLY FAMILY JOURNAL

CONDUCTED IN THE INTERESTS OF THE

Higher Life of the Household.

=READ WHAT THE NEW YORK TRIBUNE SAYS ABOUT GOOD HOUSEKEEPING.=

One of the most admirable family journals ever published is that which is brought out in Holyoke, Mass. and New York under the title of GOOD HOUSEKEEPING, by Clark W. Bryan & Co. It is a practical and interesting instructor in all pleasant, refined and healthful modes of living. It is full of good sense, and its lessons, whether in manners, morals, food, needlework and household management, are generally the best of their kind. The number of May 15 opens GOOD HOUSEKEEPING’S second year—a year which it is to be hoped will add to its already established prosperity.—_New York Daily Tribune, May 11th, 1886._

=READ WHAT THE GOSPEL BANNER (Augusta, Me.) SAYS ABOUT GOOD HOUSEKEEPING.=

GOOD HOUSEKEEPING is a fortnightly magazine conducted in the interest of every department of household management. It has rapidly advanced in public favor in its first year, which is due to the excellent articles from its special contributors and the superior mechanical work represented in its successive numbers. All the details of housekeeping from cellar to attic, kitchen to parlor, cookery to adornments, are attended to in the course of the yearly issues, while good contributions on purely literary topics are not lacking. Holyoke, Mass., and N. Y.: Clark W. Bryan & Co. $2.50 a year; $1.50 for six months; $1.00 for four months; 10 cents single copy.

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During the first year of its publication GOOD HOUSEKEEPING has won for itself an enviable reputation in the Homes of the World. Its pages have been industriously and faithfully devoted to the improvement and development of the nobler and more desirable features of Home Life.

It is original in design, comprehensive in management and strong in individuality of character and conduct. Its discussions have been practical and had with a view of being elevating, instructive and useful in the highest degree to every one having an ambition or desire to make the Home attractive and those who dwell there to feel that “there’s no place like home.”

It has won the commendations of the press, not only in its own country, but in many others where the English language is spoken, such as has never been accorded to a family publication of such tender years.

It numbers among its list of contributors many of the ablest and most noted writers of the day, on family topics, and these are supplemented by contributions from the pens of many practical and successful housekeepers measurably unknown to fame but none the less valuable workers in the field of Home Literature.

Among these may be mentioned Catherine Owen, Rose Terry Cooke, Marion Harland, Maria Parloa, Hester M. Poole, Christine Terhune Herrick, H. Annette Poole, Margaret Sidney, Mrs. D. H. R. Goodale, Dora Reade Goodale, Helen Campbell, Mrs. H. M. Plunkett, Helen Chase, Mary E. Dewey, Lucretia P. Hale, Margaret Eytinge, Anna L. Dawes, E. C. Gardner, William Paul Gerhard, Dr. F. M. Hexamer, Milton Bradley, etc., etc.

GOOD HOUSEKEEPING is published semi-monthly at $2.50 a year, and is sold on the news stands of the country, also by newsboys on trains and boats, at 10 cents a copy.

=CLARK W. BRYAN & CO., Publishers, NEW YORK OFFICE, 239 Broadway. HOLYOKE, MASS.=

To preserve the richness of color or delicacy of tint of your summer dresses, make suds of hot water and IVORY SOAP, allow to cool until lukewarm, then wash your dresses in the solution. Ordinary soaps contain too much alkali, which in a short time bleaches the color and destroys its beauty. Prof. Silliman, of Yale College, “The IVORY SOAP can not injure the most delicate fabric.”

A WORD OF WARNING.

=There are many white soaps, each represented to be “just as good as the ‘Ivory’;” they ARE NOT, but like all counterfeits, lack the peculiar and remarkable qualities of the genuine. Ask for “Ivory” Soap and insist upon getting it.=

Copyright 1886, by Procter & Gamble.

* * * * *

Transcriber’s Note:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Page 319, “symp thy” changed to “sympathy” (do not give sympathy)

Final advertisement on back cover had a label over the bottom left of the first paragraph. Words and letters were filled in using a copy of the same advertisement.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Pansy Magazine, August 1886, by Various