Produced by Annie R. McGuire








[Illustration: HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE
AN ILLUSTRATED WEEKLY.]

       *       *       *       *       *

VOL. II.--NO. 58. PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK. PRICE FOUR
CENTS.

Tuesday, December 1, 1880. Copyright, 1880, by HARPER & BROTHERS. $1.50
per Year, in Advance.

       *       *       *       *       *




[Illustration: TOBY STRIKES A BARGAIN--DRAWN BY W. A. ROGERS.]

TOBY TYLER; OR, TEN WEEKS WITH A CIRCUS.

BY JAMES OTIS.

CHAPTER I.

TOBY'S INTRODUCTION TO THE CIRCUS.


"Couldn't you give more'n six pea-nuts for a cent?" was a question asked
by a very small boy with big, staring eyes, of a candy vender at a
circus booth. And as he spoke he looked wistfully at the quantity of
nuts piled high up on the basket, and then at the six, each of which now
looked so small as he held them in his hand.

"Couldn't do it," was the reply of the proprietor of the booth, as he
put the boy's penny carefully away in the drawer.

The little fellow looked for another moment at his purchase, and then
carefully cracked the largest one.

A shade, and a very deep shade it was, of disappointment that passed
over his face, and then looking up anxiously, he asked, "Don't you swap
'em when they're bad?"

The man's face looked as if a smile had been a stranger to it for a
long time; but one did pay it a visit just then, and he tossed the boy
two nuts, and asked him a question at the same time. "What is your
name?"

The big brown eyes looked up for an instant, as if to learn whether the
question was asked in good faith, and then their owner said, as he
carefully picked apart another nut, "Toby Tyler."

"Well, that's a queer name."

"Yes, I s'pose so, myself; but, you see, I don't expect that's the name
that belongs to me. But the fellers call me so, an' so does Uncle
Dan'l."

"Who is Uncle Daniel?" was the next question. In the absence of any more
profitable customer the man seemed disposed to get as much amusement out
of the boy as possible.

"He hain't my uncle at all; I only call him so because all the boys do,
an' I live with him."

"Where's your father and mother?"

"I don't know," said Toby, rather carelessly. "I don't know much about
'em, an' Uncle Dan'l says they don't know much about me. Here's another
bad nut; goin' to give me two more?"

The two nuts were given him, and he said, as he put them in his pocket,
and turned over and over again those which he held in his hand, "I
shouldn't wonder if all of these was bad. Sposen you give me two for
each one of 'em before I crack 'em, an' then they won't be spoiled so
you can't sell 'em again."

As this offer of barter was made, the man looked amused, and he asked,
as he counted out the number which Toby desired, "If I give you these, I
suppose you'll want me to give you two more for each one, and you'll
keep that kind of a trade going until you get my whole stock?"

"I won't open my head if every one of 'em's bad."

"All right; you can keep what you've got, and I'll give you these
besides; but I don't want you to buy any more, for I don't want to do
that kind of business."

Toby took the nuts offered, not in the least abashed, and seated himself
on a convenient stone to eat them, and at the same time to see all that
was going on around him. The coming of a circus to the little town of
Guilford was an event, and Toby had hardly thought of anything else
since the highly colored posters had first been put up. It was yet quite
early in the morning, and the tents were just being erected by the men.
Toby had followed, with eager eyes, everything that looked as if it
belonged to the circus, from the time the first wagon had entered the
town, until the street parade had been made, and everything was being
prepared for the afternoon's performance.

The man who had made the losing trade in pea-nuts seemed disposed to
question the boy still further, probably owing to the fact that trade
was dull, and he had nothing better to do.

"Who is this Uncle Daniel you say you live with--is he a farmer?"

"No; he's a Deacon, an' he raps me over the head with the hymn-book
whenever I go to sleep in meetin', an' he says I eat four times as much
as I earn. I blame him for hittin' so hard when I go to sleep, but I
s'pose he's right about my eatin'. You see," and here his tone grew both
confidential and mournful, "I am an awful eater, an' I can't seem to
help it. Somehow I'm hungry all the time. I don't seem ever to get
enough till carrot-time comes, an' then I can get all I want without
troubling anybody."

"Didn't you ever have enough to eat?"

"I s'pose I did, but you see Uncle Dan'l he found me one mornin' on his
hay, an' he says I was cryin' for something to eat then, an' I've kept
it up ever since. I tried to get him to give me money enough to go into
the circus with; but he said a cent was all he could spare these hard
times, an' I'd better take that an' buy something to eat with it, for
the show wasn't very good anyway. I wish pea-nuts wasn't but a cent a
bushel."

"Then you would make yourself sick eating them."

"Yes, I s'pose I should; Uncle Dan'l says I'd eat till I was sick, if I
got the chance; but I'd like to try it once."

He was a very small boy, with a round head covered with short red
hair, a face as speckled as any turkey's egg, but thoroughly
good-natured-looking, and as he sat there on the rather sharp point of
the rock, swaying his body to and fro as he hugged his knees with his
hands, and kept his eyes fastened on the tempting display of good things
before him, it would have been a very hard-hearted man who would not
have given him something. But Mr. Job Lord, the proprietor of the booth,
was a hard-hearted man, and he did not make the slightest advance toward
offering the little fellow anything.

Toby rocked himself silently for a moment, and then he said,
hesitatingly, "I don't suppose you'd like to sell me some things, an'
let me pay you when I get older, would you?"

Mr. Lord shook his head decidedly at this proposition.

"I didn't s'pose you would," said Toby, quickly; "but you didn't seem to
be selling anything, an' I thought I'd just see what you'd say about
it." And then he appeared suddenly to see something wonderfully
interesting behind him, which served as an excuse to turn his reddening
face away.

"I suppose your uncle Daniel makes you work for your living, don't he?"
asked Mr. Lord, after he had re-arranged his stock of candy, and had
added a couple of slices of lemon peel to what was popularly supposed to
be lemonade.

"That's what I think; but he says that all the work I do wouldn't pay
for the meal that one chicken would eat, an' I s'pose it's so, for I
don't like to work as well as a feller without any father and mother
ought to. I don't know why it is, but I guess it's because I take up so
much time eatin' that it kinder tires me out. I s'pose you go into the
circus whenever you want to, don't you?"

"Oh yes; I'm there at every performance, for I keep the stand under the
big canvas as well as this one out here."

There was a great big sigh from out Toby's little round stomach, as he
thought what bliss it must be to own all those good things, and to see
the circus wherever it went. "It must be nice," he said, as he faced the
booth and its hard-visaged proprietor once more.

"How would you like it?" asked Mr. Lord, patronizingly, as he looked
Toby over in a business way, very much as if he contemplated purchasing
him.

"Like it!" echoed Toby; "why, I'd grow fat on it."

"I don't know as that would be any advantage," continued Mr. Lord,
reflectively, "for it strikes me that you're about as fat now as a boy
of your age ought to be. But I've a great mind to give you a chance."

"What!" cried Toby, in amazement, and his eyes opened to their widest
extent, as this possible opportunity of leading a delightful life
presented itself.

"Yes, I've a great mind to give you the chance. You see," and now it was
Mr. Lord's turn to grow confidential, "I've had a boy with me this
season, but he cleared out at the last town, and I'm running the
business alone now."

Toby's face expressed all the contempt he felt for the boy who would run
away from such a glorious life as Mr. Lord's assistant must lead; but he
said not a word, waiting in breathless expectation for the offer which
he now felt certain would be made him.

"Now I ain't hard on a boy," continued Mr. Lord, still confidentially,
"and yet that one seemed to think that he was treated worse and made to
work harder than any boy in the world."

"He ought to live with Uncle Dan'l a week," said Toby, eagerly.

"Here I was just like a father to him," said Mr. Lord, paying no
attention to the interruption, "and I gave him his board and lodging,
and a dollar a week besides."

"Could he do what he wanted to with the dollar?"

"Of course he could. I never checked him, no matter how extravagant he
was, an' yet I've seen him spend his whole week's wages at this very
stand in one afternoon. And even after his money had all gone that way,
I've paid for peppermint and ginger out of my own pocket just to cure
his stomach-ache."

Toby shook his head mournfully, as if deploring that depravity which
could cause a boy to run away from such a tender-hearted employer, and
from such a desirable position. But even as he shook his head so sadly,
he looked wistfully at the pea-nuts, and Mr. Lord observed the look.

It may have been that Mr. Job Lord was the tender-hearted man he prided
himself upon being, or it may have been that he wished to purchase
Toby's sympathy; but, at all events, he gave him a large handful of
nuts, and Toby never bothered his little round head as to what motive
prompted the gift. Now he could listen to the story of the boy's
treachery and eat at the same time, therefore he was an attentive
listener.

"All in the world that boy had to do," continued Mr. Lord, in the same
injured tone he had previously used, "was to help me set things to
rights when we struck a town in the morning, and then tend to the
counter till we left the town at night, and all the rest of the time he
had to himself. Yet that boy was ungrateful enough to run away."

Mr. Lord paused as if expecting some expression of sympathy from his
listener; but Toby was so busily engaged with his unexpected feast, and
his mouth was so full, that it did not seem even possible for him to
shake his head.

"Now what should you say if I told you that you looked to me like a boy
that was made especially to help run a candy counter at a circus, and if
I offered the place to you?"

Toby made one frantic effort to swallow the very large mouthful, and in
a choking voice he answered, quickly, "I should say I'd go with you, an'
be mighty glad of the chance."

"Then it's a bargain, my boy, and you shall leave town with me
to-night."

[TO BE CONTINUED.]




SOUTH AFRICAN DIAMONDS.


A recent report from the Cape of Good Hope states that a diamond
weighing 225 carats has been found at the Du Toits Pan mine, and a very
fine white stone of 115 carats in Jagersfontein mine, in the Free State.

The lucky finders of these stones are vastly richer than they were a few
weeks ago, for if these diamonds are of the best quality, they will be
worth thousands upon thousands of dollars.

It is only ten years ago that all the world was taken by surprise at
hearing that some of these precious stones had been found in the African
colony; and this is how it came about. A little boy, the son of a Dutch
farmer living near Hope Town, of the name of Jacobs, had been amusing
himself in collecting pebbles. One of these was sufficiently bright to
attract the keen eye of his mother; but she regarded it simply as a
curious stone, and it was thrown down outside the house. Some time
afterward she mentioned it to a neighbor, who, on seeing it, offered to
buy it. The good woman laughed at the idea of selling a common bright
pebble, and at once gave it to him, and he intrusted it to a friend, to
find out its value; and Dr. Atherstone, of Graham's Town, was the first
to pronounce it a _diamond_. It was then sent to Cape Town, forwarded to
the Paris Exhibition, and it was afterward purchased by the Governor of
the colony, Sir Philip Wodehouse, for £500.

This discovery of the _first_ Cape diamond was soon followed by others,
and led to the development of the great diamond fields of South Africa.




THE HEART OF BRUCE.[1]

BY LILLIE E. BARR.

  Beside Dumbarton's castled steep the Bruce lay down to die;
  Great Highland chiefs and belted earls stood sad and silent nigh.
  The warm June breezes filled the room, all sweet with flowers and hay,
  The warm June sunshine flecked the couch on which the monarch lay.

  The mailed men like statues stood; under their bated breath
  The prostrate priests prayed solemnly within the room of death;
  While through the open casements came the evening song of birds,
  The distant cries of kye and sheep, the lowing of the herds.

  And so they kept their long, last watch till shades of evening fell;
  Then strong and clear King Robert spoke: "Dear brother knights, farewell!
  Come to me, Douglas--take my hand. Wilt thou, for my poor sake,
  Redeem my vow, and fight my fight, lest I my promise break?

  "I ne'er shall see Christ's sepulchre, nor tread the Holy Land;
  I ne'er shall lift my good broadsword against the Paynim band;
  Yet I was vowed to Palestine: therefore take thou my heart,
  And with far purer hands than mine play thou the Bruce's part."

  Then Douglas, weeping, kissed the King, and said: "While I have breath
  The vow thou made I will fulfill--yea, even unto death:
  Where'er I go thy heart shall go; it shall be first in fight.
  Ten thousand thanks for such a trust! Douglas is Bruce's knight."

  They laid the King in Dunfermline--not yet his heart could rest;
  For it hung within a priceless case upon the Douglas' breast.
  And many a chief with Douglas stood: it was a noble line
  Set sail to fight the Infidel in holy Palestine.

  Their vessel touched at fair Seville. They heard upon that day
  How Christian Leon and Castile before the Moslem lay,
  Then Douglas said, "O heart of Bruce! thy fortune still is great,
  For, ere half done thy pilgrimage, the foe for thee doth wait."

  Dark Osmyn came; the Christians heard his long yell, "Allah hu!"
  The brave Earl Douglas led the van as they to battle flew;
  Sir William Sinclair on his left, the Logans on his right,
  St. Andrew's blood-red cross above upon its field of white.

  Then Douglas took the Bruce's heart, and flung it far before.
  "_Pass onward first_, O noble heart, as in the days of yore!
  For Holy Rood and Christian Faith make thou a path, and we
  With loyal hearts and flashing swords will gladly follow thee."

  All day the fiercest battle raged just where that heart did fall,
  For round it stood the Scottish lords, a fierce and living wall.
  Douglas was slain, with many a knight; yet died they not in vain,
  For past that wall of hearts and steel the Moslem never came.

  The Bruce's heart and Douglas' corse went back to Scotland's land,
  Borne by the wounded remnant of that brave and pious band.
  Fair Melrose Abbey the great heart in quiet rest doth keep,
  And Douglas in the Douglas' church hath sweet and honored sleep.

  In pillared marble Scotland tells her love, and grief, and pride.
  Vain is the stone: all Scottish hearts the Bruce and Douglas hide.
  The "gentle Sir James Douglas" and "the Bruce of Bannockburn"
  Are names forever sweet and fresh for years untold to learn.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See Kerr's _History of Scotland_, Vol. II., p. 499.




[Illustration: AMATEUR THEATRICALS--THE CALL BEFORE THE CURTAIN.]




THE KANGAROO.


In the large island of Australia--an island so vast as to be ranked as a
continent--nature has produced a singular menagerie.

The first discoverers of this country must have stared in amazement at
the strange sights which met their eyes. There were wildernesses of
luxuriant and curious vegetable growths, inhabited by large quadrupeds
which appeared as bipeds; queer little beasts with bills like a duck,
ostriches covered with hair instead of feathers, and legions of odd
birds, while the whole woods were noisy with the screeching and prating
of thousands of paroquets and cockatoos.

[Illustration: THE HOME OF THE KANGAROO.]

The largest and oddest Australian quadruped is the kangaroo, a member of
that strange family, the Marsupialia, which are provided with a pouch,
or bag, in which they carry their little ones until they are strong
enough to scamper about and take care of themselves.

The delicately formed head of this strange creature, and its short
fore-legs, are out of all proportion to the lower part of its body,
which is furnished with a very long tail, and its hind-legs, which are
large and very strong. It stands erect as tall as a man, and moves by a
succession of rapid jumps, propelled by its hind-feet, its fore-paws
meanwhile being folded across its breast. A large kangaroo will weigh
fully two hundred pounds, and will cover as much as sixteen feet at one
jump.

The body of this beast is covered with thick, soft, woolly fur of a
grayish-brown color. It is very harmless and inoffensive, and it is a
very pretty sight to see a little group of kangaroos feeding quietly in
a forest clearing. Their diet is entirely vegetable. They nibble grass
or leaves, or eat certain kinds of roots, the stout, long claws of their
hind-feet serving them as a convenient pickaxe to dig with.

The kangaroo is a very tender and affectionate mother. When the baby is
born it is the most helpless creature imaginable, blind, and not much
bigger than a new-born kitten. But the mother lifts it carefully with
her lips, and gently deposits it in her pocket, where it cuddles down
and begins to grow. This pocket is its home for six or seven months,
until it becomes strong and wise enough to fight its own battles in the
woodland world. While living in its mother's pocket it is very lively.
It is very funny to see a little head emerging all of a sudden from the
soft fur of the mother's breast, with bright eyes peeping about to see
what is going on in the outside world; or perhaps nothing is visible but
a little tail wagging contentedly, while its baby owner is hidden from
sight.

The largest kangaroos are called menuahs or boomers by the Australian
natives, and their flesh is considered a great delicacy, in flavor
something like young venison. For this reason these harmless creatures
are hunted and killed in large numbers. They are very shy, and not very
easy to catch; but the cunning bushmen hide themselves in the thicket,
and when their unsuspecting prey approaches, they hurl a lance into its
body. The wounded kangaroo springs off with tremendous leaps, but soon
becomes exhausted, and falls on the turf.

If brought to bay, this gentle beast will defend itself vigorously. With
its back planted firmly against a tree, it has been known to keep off an
army of dogs for hours, by dealing them terrible blows with its strong
hind-feet, until the arrival of the hunter with his gun put an end to
the contest. At other times the kangaroo, being an expert swimmer, will
rush into the water, and if a venturesome dog dares to follow, it will
seize him, and hold his head under water till he is drowned.

Kangaroos are often brought to zoological gardens, and are contented in
captivity, so long as they have plenty of corn, roots, and fresh hay to
eat.




DECORATIONS FOR CHRISTMAS.

BY A. W. ROBERTS.


A great variety of material abounds in our woods that can be utilized
for Christmas decorations.

All trees, shrubs, mosses, and lichens that are evergreen during the
winter months, such as holly, ink-berry, laurels, hemlocks, cedars,
spruces, arbor vitæ, are used at Christmas-time for in-door
ornamentation. Then come the club-mosses (_Lycopodiums_), particularly
the one known as "bouquet-green," and ground-pine, which are useful for
the more delicate and smaller designs. Again, we have the wood mosses
and wood lichens, pressed native ferns and autumn leaves; and, if the
woods are not accessible, from our own gardens many cultivated
evergreens can be obtained, such as box, arbor vitæ, rhododendron, ivy,
juniper, etc.

Where it is desirable to use bright colors to lighten up the sombreness
of some of the greens, our native berries can be used to great
advantage. In the woods are to be found the partridge-berries,
bitter-sweet, rose-berries, black alder, holly-berries, cedar-berries,
cranberries, and sumac. Dried grasses and everlasting-flowers can be
pressed into service. For very brilliant effects gold-leaf, gold paper,
and frosting (obtainable at paint stores) are used.

[Illustration: Fig. 1.]

Fig. 1 represents a simple wreath of holly leaves and berries, sewn on
to a circular piece of pasteboard, which was first coated with calcimine
of a delicate light blue, on which, before the glue contained in the
calcimine dried, a coating of white frosting was dusted. The monogram
XMS is drawn on drawing-paper highly illuminated with gold-leaf and
brilliant colors, after which it is cut out, and fastened in position.

[Illustration: Fig. 2.]

Fig. 2 consists of a foundation of pasteboard, shaped as shown in the
illustration. The four outside curves are perforated with a
darning-needle. These perforations are desirable when the bouquet-green
is to be fastened on in raised compact masses. The four crescent-shaped
pieces of board are colored white, and coated with white frosting. On
the crescents are sewn sprays of ivy and bunches of bright red berries.
From the outer edge of the crescents radiate branches of hemlock or
fronds of dried ferns. For the legend in the centre the monogram
I.H.S.,[2] or "A merry Christmas to all," cut out in gold paper, looks
well.

[Illustration: Fig. 3.]

Fig. 3 consists of a combination of branches of apple wood, or other
wood of rich colors and texture, neatly joined together so as to form
the letters M and X. (In selecting the wood always choose that which has
the heaviest growth of lichens and mosses.)

For the ornamentation of the rustic monogram I use wood and rock
lichens, fungi, Spanish moss, and pressed climbing fern. Holes are bored
into the rustic letters, into which are inserted small branches of holly
in full berry. By trimming the monogram on both sides it looks very
effective when hung between the folding-doors of a parlor, where the
climbing fern may be trained out (on fine wires or green threads) in all
directions, so as to form a triumphal archway. By using large fungi for
the feet of the letters M and X (as shown in the illustration), the
monogram can be used as a mantel-piece ornament, training fern and ivy
from it and over picture-frames. The letter S in the monogram is
composed of immortelles.

[Illustration: Fig. 4.]

Fig. 4 consists of a narrow strip of white muslin, on which is first
drawn with a pencil in outline the design to be worked in evergreens.
For this purpose only the finer and lighter evergreens can be used, as
the intention of this design is to form a bordering for the angle formed
by the wall and ceiling. This wall drapery is heavily trimmed with
berries, to cause it to hang close to the wall, and at the same time to
obtain richer effects of color. The evergreens and berries are fastened
to the muslin with thread and needle.

[Illustration: Fig. 5.]

Fig. 5 is composed of a strip of card-board covered with gold paper on
which the evergreens are sewed. This style of ornamentation is used for
covering the frames of pictures.

Natural flowers formed into groups can be made to produce very beautiful
effects for the mantel-piece and corner brackets of a room. The pots
should be hidden by covering them with evergreens, or the wood moss that
grows on the trunks of trees. For mounting berries fine wire will be
found very useful. I have always used, and with good effect, the rich
brown cones of evergreens and birches for Christmas decorations.

Very rich and heavy effects of color can be produced by using dry colors
for backgrounds in the following manner. On the face of the pasteboard
on which you intend to work the evergreen design lay a thin coating of
hot glue; before the glue dries or chills dust on dry ultramarine blue,
or any of the lakes, or chrome greens. As soon as the glue has set, blow
off the remaining loose color, and the result will be a field of rich
"dead" color. To make the effect still more brilliant, touch up the
blues and lakes with slashings of gold-leaf ("Dutch metal" will answer
every purpose), fastening the gold-leaf with glue. Don't plaster it
down, but put it on loose, so that it stands out from the field of
color.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] Jesus Hominum Salvator.




W. HOLMAN HUNT'S "FINDING OF CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE."

BY THE REV. WILLIAM M. TAYLOR, D.D.


The double-page picture which appears in this week's YOUNG PEOPLE is
well worthy of study, alike for the school to which it belongs, the
subject which it seeks to portray, and the manner in which that subject
is treated by the artist. The original painting, of which the
reproduction (save, of course, in the matter of coloring) is an
admirable representation, is the production of William Holman Hunt. Few
sermons have been so impressive as some of this artist's pictures.
Everybody knows the beautiful one which he has called "The Light of the
World," and no person of any intelligence can look upon that without
having recalled to his mind these words, "Behold, I stand at the door
and knock." But it may not be so generally known that this impression is
thus strongly produced upon the spectator because it was first very
deeply made on the artist himself. A friend of ours told us this
beautiful story. The original painting of "The Light of the World" is in
the possession of an English gentleman, at whose house one known to both
of us had been a guest. While he was there the frame had been taken off
the picture for purposes of cleaning, and the stranger had thus an
opportunity of examining it very closely. He found on the canvas, where
it had been covered by the frame, these words, in the writing of the
artist: "_Nec me prætermittas, Domine!_"--"Nor pass me by, O Lord!"
Thus, like the Fra Angelico, Mr. Hunt seems to have painted that work
upon his knees; and it is a sermon to those who look upon it, because it
was first a prayer in him who produced it.

Much the same, we are confident, may be said of the picture which is now
before us. All our readers must know the story. When the "divine boy"
was about twelve years of age he was taken by Joseph and Mary to the
Passover feast at Jerusalem. They went up with a company from their own
neighborhood, and after the feast was over they had started to return in
the same way. But Jesus was not to be found. Still supposing that he was
somewhere in their company, they went a day's journey, and "sought him
among their kinsfolk and acquaintance." Their search, however, was
fruitless, and so, "sorrowing" and anxious, they returned to Jerusalem,
where they ultimately found him in the Temple, "sitting in the midst of
the doctors, both hearing them, and asking them questions." They were
amazed at the sight; and his mother, relieved, and perhaps also a little
troubled, said, "Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us? behold, thy
father and I have sought thee sorrowing." To which he made reply, "How
is it that ye sought me? wist ye not that I must be about my Father's
business?" These words are remarkable as the first recorded utterance of
conscious Messiahship that came from the lips of our Lord. They indicate
that now his human intelligence has come to the perception of his divine
dignity and mission; and when he went down to Nazareth, and was subject
to Joseph and Mary, it was with the distinct assurance within him that
Joseph was not his father, and that there was ultimately a higher
business before him than the work of the carpenter. Still, he knew that
only through the lower could he reach the higher, and therefore he went
down, contented to wait until the day of his manifestation came.

The artist has seized the moment when Jesus made this striking reply to
his mother, and everything in the picture is made to turn on that. The
scene is the interior of the Temple. The time is high day, for workmen
are busily engaged at a stone on the outside, and a beggar is lolling at
the gate in the act of asking alms. The Jewish doctors are seated. First
in the line is an aged rabbi with flowing beard, and clasping a roll
with his right hand. Over his eyes a film is spread, which indicates
that he is blind; and so his neighbor, almost as aged as himself, is
explaining to him why the boy has ceased to ask his questions, by
telling him that his mother has come to claim him. Beside him, and the
third in the group, is a younger man, whose face is full of eager
thoughtfulness, and whose hands hold an unfolded roll, to which it
appears as if he had been referring because of something which had just
been said.

The other faces are less marked with seriousness, and seem to be
indicative rather of curiosity; but we make little account of them
because of the fascination which draws our eyes to the principal group.
The face of Joseph, as Alford says, is "well-nigh faultless." It is full
of thankful joy over the discovery of the boy; and though to our
thinking Joseph was an older man than he is here depicted, yet
everything about him is natural and manly. The Mary is hardly so
successful. The narrative does not represent her as speaking softly into
the ear of her son, but rather as breaking in abruptly on the assembly
with her irrepressible outcry, "Son, why hast thou thus dealt with us?"
and there might well have been less of the soft persuasiveness and more
of the surprised look of what one might call wounded affection in her
face. But the portrayal of the boy Christ is admirable. We have never,
indeed, seen any representation of the face of Christ that has
thoroughly satisfied us, and we do not expect ever to see one. But this
one is most excellent. The "far-away" look in the eyes, and the
expression of absorption on the countenance, betoken that his thoughts
are intent upon that divine "business" which he came to earth to
transact. Exquisite, too, as so thoroughly human, is the playing of the
right hand with the strap of his girdle in his moment of abstraction. In
the far future the great business of his life is beckoning him on; but
close at hand his duty to his mother is asserting its immediate claim.
In his eager response to the first, he cries, "Wist ye not that I must
be about my Father's business?" and his thoughts are after that
meanwhile; but ere long the demand of the present will prevail, and he
will go down with his parents, and be subject to them. This
"righteousness" also he has to "fulfill," even as a part of that
"business."

Take the picture, boys; frame it, and hang it where you can often see
it. You will be reminded by it wholesomely of one who was once as really
a boy as you; and when the future seems to be calling you on, and
begging you to leap at once into its work, a look at the Christ-face
will help you to seek the glory of the future in submission to the
claims of the duties of the present, and will say to you, "He that
believeth shall not make haste." Through the performance of the duties
of a son to his mother Jesus passed to the business of saving men; and
in the same way, through faithful diligence where you are, the door will
open for you into the future which seems to you so attractive. It is
right to have a business before you. It is right, also, for you to feel
that the work you want to do in the world is "your Father's business."
We would not have you fix your heart on anything which you could not so
describe. But whatever that may be, rely upon it you will never reach it
by neglecting present duty. On the contrary, the more diligent and
faithful you are now as boys in the home and in the school, the more
surely will the door into eminence open for you as men. Let the picture,
therefore, stimulate you to holy ambition, and yet encourage you to wait
patiently in the discharge of present duty until the time comes for your
elevation. The way to come at your true business in life is to do well
the present business of your boyhood.

[Illustration: "THE FINDING OF CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE."--FROM A PAINTING
BY W. HOLMAN HUNT.--SEE PAGE 87.]




THE CAPTAIN'S BOY ON THE PENNY BOAT.

BY H. F. REDDALL.


Imagine a side-wheel steamboat a hundred and fifty or two hundred feet
long, her hull painted black, red, or red and white, with only one deck,
entirely open from stem to stern; a hot, stuffy cabin below the
water-line, her engines, of the cylinder pattern, entirely below the
deck, and you have some idea of a London "penny boat"--a very different
affair from our jaunty American river craft.

As most of my young readers are aware, the river Thames divides the
great city of London into nearly equal parts. For nearly twelve miles
the metropolis stretches along either bank, and, as might be expected,
the river forms a convenient-highway for traffic--a sort of marine
Broadway, in fact. There are a number of bridges, each possessing from
six to ten arches, and through these the swift tide pours with
tremendous energy. From early dawn to dark the river's bosom is crowded
with every description of vessel. Below London Bridge, the first we meet
in going up stream, may be seen the murky collier moored close to the
neat and trim East Indiaman, the heavy Dutch galiot scraping sides with
the swift mail-packet, or the fishing-boat nodding responsive to the
Custom-house revenue-cutter.

Above and between the bridges the scene changes, but is none the less
animated. Here comes a heavy, lumbering barge, its brown sail loosely
furled, depending for its momentum upon the tide, and guided by a long
sweep. Barges, lighters, tugs, fishing-smacks, passenger steamboats, and
a variety of smaller craft so crowd the river that were we to stand on
Blackfriars Bridge a boat of some description would pass under the
arches every thirty or forty seconds.

But by far the most important feature is the passenger-boats. These are
apparently countless. They make landings every few blocks, now on one
side the river, now on the other, darting here and there, up and down,
and adding largely to the bustle. For a penny, the equivalent of two
cents American currency, one may enjoy a water ride of five or six
miles--say from London Bridge to Lambeth Palace. When we reflect that
all this immense traffic is crowded between the banks of a stream at no
point as wide as the East River opposite Fulton Ferry, New York, and
impeded by bridges at that, the difficulties of navigation will be in
some measure understood; and I have purposely dwelt on this that my
readers may fully appreciate what follows.

Every one knows how, in America, the steamboat is controlled by a pilot
perched high above the passengers in the "pilot-house"; how he steers
the boat, and at the same time communicates with the engineer far below
him by means of bells--the gong, the big jingle, the little jingle, and
so on. But the penny boats of the Thames are managed far differently.
The wheelsman is at the stern in the old-fashioned way; but on a bridge
stretched amidships between the two paddle-boxes, and right over a
skylight opening into the engine-room, stands the captain. Beneath him,
sitting or standing by this skylight, is a boy of not more than twelve
or fourteen years of age, who, I observed, from time to time called out
some utterly unintelligible words, in accordance with which the engine
was slowed, stopped, backed, or started ahead as occasion required. It
took me a long time to discover _what_ the boy said, from the peculiar
sing-song way in which he called out, but it took me much longer to find
out _why_ he said it.

So far as I could see he had not as much interest in the boat as I had;
apparently he observed the constantly changing panorama of river
scenery--not an interesting sight on board escaped him, and yet as we
neared or departed from each landing-stage the same mysterious sounds,
only varied slightly, issued from his lips, and the boat stopped or went
ahead as the case might be. I asked myself if this wonderful boy might
not be the captain, but a glance at the weather-beaten figure on the
bridge showed me the absurdity of the idea. So I watched the latter
individual, from whom I was now sure the boy received his orders. But
how? That was the question. The captain and his boy were too far apart
to speak intelligibly to one another without all the passengers hearing
them: how, then, did the one on the bridge communicate his wishes to the
other at the skylight if not by speech?

By dint of long watching I became aware that though apparently the eyes
of the lad saw everything there was to be seen, in reality he was most
watchful of the captain, hardly ever lifting his gaze from the figure
above him, and at last I discovered that by a scarcely perceptible
motion of his hand, merely opening and closing it, or with a simple
backward or forward motion from the wrist down, the captain conveyed his
orders to the boy, who responded by shouting in his shrill treble
through the skylight what, after much conjecture, I discovered to be
"Ease 'er!" "Stop 'er!" "Turn 'er astarn!" "Let 'er go ahead!"

The gesture by the captain's hand was oftentimes so faint that I failed
to see it, though I was on the look-out; much less could I interpret its
meaning, yet the lad never once failed to give the correct order.

Only think of it! The safety of these boats, their crews, and thousands
of passengers absolutely depends upon these youngsters, who in wind and
rain, sunshine or storm, are compelled to be at their posts for many
hours daily. If through inattention or inadvertence the wrong command
should be given to the engineer, a terrible calamity might occur. That
such is never or rarely the case speaks volumes for the fidelity and
attention to duty of these boys, who have very little opportunity for
training or education of any sort.




PACKAGE NO. 107.

BY JAMES B. MARSHALL.


The express agent in San Francisco smiled very pleasantly when the
package was brought to him with a directed express tag properly tied on
it. But it was not so strange for him to smile, since he knew all about
that package, and had foretold the exact time required for a package to
reach New York. But the clerk who pasted a green label on the tag, and
marked on one end in blue ink "No. 107, Paid" so and so much, why should
he be amused? And why should the two express-wagon drivers who were in
the office at the time declare that that package would be something like
a surprise?

Then an errand-boy came into the office to express a valise, having left
seven other boys standing on the nearest street corner before a
hand-organ that was playing the newest airs, which those seven boys were
learning to whistle. But why should that errand-boy, who was usually a
very quiet boy, immediately run to the office street door, and call, and
beckon, and wave his hat furiously for those seven boys to come and look
at package No. 107? Then those seven boys, in spite of the attraction of
the hand-organ, came on a run, and stood eagerly around the express
office door. And why wouldn't those boys go away until that package was
taken with other packages to the railroad station in one of the express
wagons? And what, also, greatly interested five other passing boys, a
Chinese laundry-man, two apple-women, and a policeman?

Well, it was the same cause, which will soon appear, that made curious
and smiling the express people of Omaha, Chicago, and other places where
the package was seen on its way East to New York.

       *       *       *       *       *

About a month previous to this, Mr. Benson had written to his wife from
California that owing to the slow settlement of the business that had
taken him there, he was beginning to fear he and Guy would not be able
to reach home even by the holidays. "But Guy says," wrote Mr. Benson,
"that if we only had mother here we would get along splendidly."

A week later the unwelcome news came to Mrs. Benson in New York
explaining that Mr. Benson's business would further detain him in
California until the middle of March--three months to come. You may be
certain that Mrs. Benson was very sorry to think of passing Christmas
and New-Year's with three thousand miles separating her from her husband
and boy. But she was forced to smile as she read Guy's letter--mailed
with his father's--explaining how they might dine together on
Christmas-day, notwithstanding the three thousand miles.

"I have found out," wrote Guy in his best handwriting, "that the
difference in time between New York and San Francisco is about three
hours and a quarter. So if you sit down to your dinner at a quarter past
four o'clock, your time, and we sit down to our dinner at one o'clock,
our time, we can in that way be dining together. We are going to have
for dinner exactly what we had at home on last Christmas. But you will
have the best time, for grandfather and grandmother will be with you,
and Uncle Tom and Aunt Mary, and Ben, Tom, Bertha, Sadie, Uncle Seth,
and all the rest of them."

A few days after this letter was sent Mr. Benson mailed another one, in
which he told his wife that Guy had made a discovery on the previous
day, and they were going to send her a pleasant surprise--in fact, a
Christmas present. "The package will be sent by express, directed to
your address in New York," wrote Mr. Benson, "and we have so timed its
journey East that it will reach you some time on the day before
Christmas."

This was package No. 107.

But didn't Mrs. Benson wonder and wonder what was coming to her for a
surprise present? And didn't she imagine that it might be a nest of
Chinese tables, or a package of fine Russian tea, or an ivory castle, or
a bunch of California grapes weighing fifteen or twenty pounds, or
five-and-twenty other possible things? Then Guy's New York cousins, when
they heard of that expected package, didn't they all fall to guessing?
And they guessed and guessed until, as we say in "Hot Butter and Blue
Beans, please come to Supper," they were "cold," "very cold," and
"freezing."

Cousin Ben finally decided, after changing his mind a dozen times a day,
that the package would prove to contain either the skin of the grizzly
bear that Guy, before leaving home, had thought he might find, or a big
piece of gold that Guy had been kindly allowed to dig out of some gold
mine.

"Heigho! this is the day the package is to come," said Cousin Bertha,
the moment she awoke on that morning. But at noon-time Bertha, Ben, Jim,
Sadie, and even little Tom, knew that as yet the package had not
arrived. It had not arrived as late as four o'clock in the afternoon,
when the first three just mentioned, together with some of their elders,
went to Guy's mother's to supper. There Bertha, Ben, and Jim took turns
vainly watching at the windows for the express wagon, until they were
called to supper.

Jingle! jingle! jingle! went the door-bell during the course of the
supper. And so much had that package been talked about and guessed about
that all paused in their eating and drinking, and listened in
expectation.

"Please, ma'am," said Katie, coming from answering the ring, "the
expressman is at the door. He says he's got a most valuable package for
you, and would you please come and receipt for it?"

Mrs. Benson found the expressman standing by the little table in the
hallway where Katie had left him, though in the mean time he had gone
back to his wagon and brought the package into the house. "Please sign
there," he said, pointing to his receipt-book.

"It must be a very small package," thought Mrs. Benson, not seeing any
package, but imagining it might still be in the expressman's overcoat
pocket.

"I was to say, Mrs. Benson," said the man, "that you must be prepared
for a very great, pleasant surprise."

"Oh! I'm prepared to be surprised," answered Mrs. Benson.

"Then please turn and look at the package standing there by the parlor
door."

"Mother!"

"Oh, Guy! my dear boy!" joyfully called Mrs. Benson, as Guy, with an
express tag tied around his arm, rushed into her arms, and clasped her
around the neck.

"It's Guy himself," said Bertha, gleefully.

"Hurrah! it's Guy!" called Ben and Jim; and they all instantly left the
supper table and hurried to greet him.

But the adventures of package No. 107 could not be quickly told. Of how
it was discovered that it might be sent, how it had been directed like a
bundle of goods, how it had been receipted for over and over again, how
it had travelled all the way in the Pullman cars, how it was given as
much care and attention as if it had been a huge nugget of gold, and
very, very many more hows and whys.




MILDRED'S BARGAIN.

A Story for Girls.

BY MRS. JOHN LILLIE.

CHAPTER I.


"Six o'clock! Thank fortune!" exclaimed one of a group of girls in Mr.
Hardman's store.

Mildred Lee glanced up with a sigh of relief, moving with quicker
fingers at the thought of being so near the end of her day's work. She
was a pale pretty girl about sixteen, with soft brown hair, dark eyes,
and a something more refined in her air and manner than her associates.
Perhaps it was that in her dress there were none of the flimsy attempts
at finery which the other girls affected so strongly, or perhaps it was
only her quiet, lady-like self-possession which had in it nothing of
vulgar reticence or pride; but, in any case, there was a touch of
something superior to all lowering influences, and the most flippant
sales-woman in "Hardman's" lowered her tone of coarse good-humor,
stopped short in any gay recital, when Mildred's pretty face and quiet
little figure came in view.

"Six o'clock," said Jenny Martin, a tall, "striking-looking" young
person, who was helping Milly to put away some ribbons. "Oh dear, now
we'll be kept! There comes that lady from Lane Street. She'll stay half
an hour."

"Young ladies, what are you about?" exclaimed the voice of Mr. Hardman's
son and heir, a short, stout young man, very much overdressed, and who
bustled up to the counter, dispersing the little group with various
half-audible exclamations. Then he turned, bowing and smiling, to the
late customer.

She was a plain, elderly woman, dressed in a quaint fashion, but bearing
unmistakable signs of good-breeding; evidently what even Mr. Tom Hardman
would recognize as a "_real_ lady." Miss Jenner, of Milltown, was
regarded by the store-keepers in her vicinity as a valuable customer.
She was known to be very rich, although eccentric, and her great red
brick house, a little back from the street, with its box-walked garden
and tall old trees, was one of the finest and most respectable in the
county. Miss Jenner had been two years abroad, and this was one of her
first visits to any Milltown store. She received Mr. Tom's servile
courtesies with rather an indifferent manner, glancing around the big,
showy store, scanning the faces of the tired young attendants, as she
said, "Is not Mildred Lee one of your sales-women?"

"Miss Lee!" called out Mr. Tom.

Mildred moved forward quickly, looking at the new customer with an air
of polite attention, but none of her employer's obsequiousness.

[Illustration: THE LATE CUSTOMER--DRAWN BY JESSIE CURTIS SHEPHERD.]

Miss Jenner met the young girl's glance with a swift critical stare.

"Here," she said, rather shortly, "I want some gloves, and I'd prefer
your serving me."

Miss Jenner's wishes could not be slighted, and so Mr. Hardman hovered
about deferentially, rather altering his tone of insolent command when
he spoke to the young sales-women, and finally dispersing them while he
walked up and down the cloak and mantle department, out of Miss Jenner's
hearing, yet sufficiently within sight to be recalled by a look from his
wealthy patroness.

As soon as she found herself alone with the shop-girl, Miss Jenner said,
with a searching glance at the young face bending over the glove-box:

"So you are Mildred! Child, it seems strange enough to see your father's
daughter here. How did it happen?"

"Oh!" Mildred exclaimed. She drew a quick breath, while the color
flashed into her cheeks. "Did you know papa?"

"Yes." Miss Jenner spoke rather shortly.

"Well," said Mildred, "you see, after his death--we had almost nothing.
Mamma is giving music lessons, and I came here, just because it was all
I could get to do. Bertie is at school," the girl added, a little
proudly.

"But your mother does not _live_ in Milltown?" the lady inquired, with a
frown of perplexity.

"Not quite _in_ the town," said Mildred. "We have a little cottage on
the Dorsettown road. Papa seemed to think, before he died, that he would
like us to come to live here."

Miss Jenner answered nothing for a few moments. She tapped the counter
with her fingers, pushed the point of her parasol into the ground, and
coughed significantly one or twice before she spoke.

"Well, Mildred," she said, finally, "I suppose you know the way to my
house? I should like you to come to tea with me next Tuesday. I am
expecting some young friends."

Mildred Lee could scarcely answer for a few moments. How often she had
passed and repassed the fine old house in Lane Street, wondering what
grandeur and comfort must repose between its walls, but never had she
dreamed of receiving an invitation from its owner.

"Well," exclaimed Miss Jenner, drawing out her well-filled purse, "don't
you mean to come?"

Mildred smiled, and drew a quick breath.

"Oh yes, thank you, Miss Jenner, very much," she contrived to say; and
almost before she could revolve the question further in her mind Miss
Jenner was gone, and she found herself face to face with Mr. Tom. Now
this young man was Mildred's special aversion. Not that he was as
overbearing with her as with the other girls, but that he seemed to have
singled her out for attentions that Mildred found odious.

"It's rather late, Miss Lee," he said, with his insolent smile; "so I
may as well walk home with you."

"Thank you, Mr. Hardman," answered Milly--she never called him "Mr.
Tom," as did the other girls--"I can manage very nicely by myself. I
always walk fast, and I have always a great deal to think about."

"Then walk fast, and let me think with you," he said, with a laugh.

Mildred dared not offend him, and so she forced herself to accept his
escort, although it was evident even to the self-confident young man she
disliked it. They threaded the busy streets of Milltown, "Mr. Tom"
raising his hat jauntily to passing acquaintances, Mildred keeping her
eyes fastened on the ground, only anxious to reach the little white
cottage where her mother and brothers and sisters were waiting tea for
her return.

"There, Mr. Hardman," she said, trying to look good-humored, as he held
open the gate; "I won't ask you to come in, because--"

"Oh, I know," exclaimed Tom, with an easy laugh. "Because you think the
guv'nor would not like me to be visiting any of the girls. Never you
mind; he won't know."

"That has nothing to do with it, sir," answered Mildred, speaking with
forced composure, though her face flushed scarlet. "It was because I
knew my mother prefers I shall not receive visits from people whom she
does not know; but if it _be_ true that your father objects to your
visiting any of his employees, that is an additional reason for your
never forcing attentions upon me again."

And with a very stately bow Mildred moved past him, entering the little
house, while "Mr. Tom," indulging in a prolonged low whistle, turned on
his heel, with something not very agreeable in his expression.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]




[Illustration]

WINGY WING FOO.

BY C. A. D. W.


  Poor Wingy Wing Foo is a bright little fellow,
  With complexion, indeed, most decidedly yellow,
  And long almond eyes that take everything in;
  But the way he is treated is really a sin.
  For naughty Miss Polly _will_ turn up her nose
  At his quaint shaven head and his queer little clothes,
  And bestow all her love and affectionate care
  On rosy-cheeked Mabel, with bright golden hair.

  In vain do I argue, in vain do I cry,
  "Be kinder, my darling, I beg of you, try."
  But Polly shakes harder her wise little head,
  And kisses her golden-haired dolly instead.
  "Remember he's far from his kindred and home;
  'Mid strange little children he's destined to roam,
  And how sad is his fate, as no kind little mother
  Will take him right in, and make him a brother

  "To the fair baby dollies that sit on her knee!
  Just think, my own Polly, how hard it must be.
  So give him a hug and a motherly kiss,
  'Tis one your own babies, I'm sure, never'll miss."
  She stooped quickly down, and raised from the floor
  The poor little stranger, discarded before,
  And said, with a tear in her bright little eye,
  "I'm sure I shall love him, mamma, by-and-by."




[Illustration: OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.]


     I received a subscription to YOUNG PEOPLE for a present, and I like
     the paper better than any I ever had before. I like the Post-office
     Box and the puzzles especially, and the story of Paul Grayson I
     like very much.

      I am collecting games and amusements, and I would be thankful to
      any readers of YOUNG PEOPLE who send me any nice charades or
      games. In return I will send some of my own collection, with full
      directions for playing each one.

  JAMES O'CONNOR,
  287 Ontario Street, Chicago, Illinois.

       *       *       *       *       *

Now that the season of long evenings has come again, pretty household
games are a necessary recreation for our young friends. There have been
directions in the columns of YOUNG PEOPLE for some entertaining winter
evening amusements, and more are in preparation. Descriptions of games
are generally too long for the Post-office Box, but if we receive any
that are short enough, we will print them, unless they are of games
already well known, or involve the pitching of knives or other dangerous
actions.

There is a great deal of play-time by daylight, too, and it would be
interesting if boys in Canada, on the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, in
the West and in the South, would now and then describe their out-of-door
sports during the winter. There will be skating, and coasting, and
sleigh-riding for some; orange-picking, rowing, and picnicking for
others. There is one amusement our boys and girls will all enjoy
together, and that is reading YOUNG PEOPLE; and if in the Post-office
Box they learn what are the pastimes of children in all sections of the
country, even those little people who live in solitary places where they
have no playmates, and see nothing all winter but ice-bound rivers and
snow-covered plains, will feel less lonely, and have imaginary
companionship during play-time.

       *       *       *       *       *

  CINCINNATI, OHIO.

     Seeing a letter from Violet S. in the Post-office Box about a
     society, I thought I would write about a club we boys have here.

      The club, which is called the G. G., is strictly a military
      organization, consisting of nine members, each having a gun. We
      drill every Saturday. Any member who speaks during the drill is
      confined to the "guard-house" for five minutes for each offense.

      We have also a library of nearly a hundred books, which is a
      source of great pleasure to us. Every month we have an election
      for librarian and secretary.

      Whenever an event of importance occurs concerning the club we have
      a meeting to settle the matter. We are now preparing a play for
      the Christmas holidays.

  BERT C.

       *       *       *       *       *

  BRANTFORD, ONTARIO, CANADA.

     Reba H. wished to know if any correspondent had seen peach-trees
     blooming in September. I never saw peach-trees in blossom at that
     season, but we once had two pear-trees that blossomed in October.

      I take great pleasure in reading YOUNG PEOPLE. I am eleven years
      old.

  JOSIE B. G.

       *       *       *       *       *

  DARLINGTON HEIGHTS, VIRGINIA.

     I was very much interested in the account of sumac gathering in
     YOUNG PEOPLE No. 51, and I thought you would like to know how it is
     done here in Prince Edward County.

      The work of gathering begins in June, and lasts until some time in
      August. It is gathered here before it turns red, and the berries
      are not gathered at all. If the berries are mixed with the leaves
      and twigs, it is worthless, and it is worth very little anyway, as
      the price is only fifty or seventy-five cents a hundred pounds.
      There are two kinds of sumac, the male and female; the former is
      what the merchants want, but the negroes often try to cheat, for
      it is very hard to tell the difference between the two kinds when
      the sumac is dry. They do not dry it in a house, but lay it on the
      ground in the sun for about two days, and then leave it in the
      shade of the trees for about a week longer.

  HARRY J.

       *       *       *       *       *

  BELLE VERNON, PENNSYLVANIA.

     I live among the hills of Pennsylvania, where they get out great
     quantities of coal and sand. We have glass factories in our town,
     and it is so nice to see them make glass! We have a boat-yard here,
     too, and when the boats are launched we can get on them. It is a
     big slide when the boat goes into the river.

      I am nine years old, and send greeting to HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. I
      tuck it under my pillow every night.

  MABEL M.

       *       *       *       *       *

  PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA.

     Have any of the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE ever seen the dove-plant,
     sometimes called the Espiritu Santo, or Holy Ghost flower? I saw
     one in a conservatory here. It is bell-shaped and pure white, and
     the petals form a perfect dove.

  PAUL DE M.

You will find a description and a picture of this wonderful flower,
which is a native of the Isthmus of Panama, in HARPER'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE
for November, 1879, page 863.

       *       *       *       *       *

  SHORT HILLS, NEW JERSEY.

     Here is our recipe for johnny-cake, which may be useful to Mary G.,
     or to some other little girl: One tea-cupful of sweet milk; one
     tea-cupful of buttermilk; one table-spoonful of melted butter; one
     tea-spoonful of salt; one tea-spoonful of soda; enough Indian meal
     to make it stiff enough to roll out into a sheet half an inch
     thick. Spread it on a buttered tin, and bake forty minutes. As soon
     as it begins to brown, baste it with melted butter, repeating the
     operation four or five times, until it is brown and crisp. Do not
     cut the sheet, but break it, and eat it for luncheon or tea.

  FLORENCE S.

       *       *       *       *       *

  BROOKLYN, NEW YORK.

     Here is my mother's recipe for johnny-cake for Mary G. One cup of
     white sugar, three eggs, half a cup of butter. Beat these together
     until they are light and creamy. Then add one cup of wheat flour,
     three cups of Indian meal (yellow is best), three tea-spoonfuls of
     Royal baking powder, one tea-spoonful of salt, sweet milk enough to
     make a cake batter. Beat until very light, and bake in a quick oven
     about thirty minutes. We like it best baked in little patty-pans,
     but you can bake it in a large sheet just as well.

  ETHEL W.

Recipes similar to the above have been sent by Louise H. A., Irma C.
Terry, Lena Fox, Jane L. Wilson, Ada Philips, Alexina N., and other
little housewives; and all unite in the wish that Mary G. may win the
prize offered by her papa.

       *       *       *       *       *

  DERBY, CONNECTICUT.

     I would like to tell you how I get YOUNG PEOPLE. We have a very
     nice teacher at the school where I attend, and every week each
     scholar who is perfect in deportment gets a copy of YOUNG PEOPLE.
     All the scholars like the paper very much, and they all try to be
     good. I have had a copy every week since the teacher began to give
     them, and so have several other scholars.

  RUTH M. G.

       *       *       *       *       *

  OTSEGO LAKE, MICHIGAN.

     I am eight years old. I live in Northern Michigan, between the two
     large lakes.

      I have a pet fawn. I call it Beauty. It followed me to church last
      Sunday night; and although it behaved with perfect decorum, it
      attracted so much attention that papa had to put it out. I have
      every number of YOUNG PEOPLE.

  LOUIS S. G.

       *       *       *       *       *

     I belong to the Boys' Exploring Association, and last summer we
     discovered the finest cave in the Rocky Mountains. It was filled
     with beautiful stalactites and stalagmites. I have some of the
     stalactites in my collection. The only living things we saw in the
     cave were a bat and two old mountain rats, one of which had young
     ones.

      A few days ago I visited a coal mine about six miles from Colorado
      Springs. The coal there is soft, and lies in a narrow vein. Above
      and below the coal are veins or strata of sandstone, which is well
      covered with impressions of leaves, large and small. As I entered
      the mine I looked up, and right over my head there was a perfect
      impression of a palm-leaf, just like a palm-leaf fan. I tried to
      take it out whole, but it would break in pieces. There were also
      many impressions of small leaves, and I found pieces of the tree
      itself. I brought a great many of these impressions home with me.
      They must be many thousand years old, like the fossil shells,
      baculites, and ammonites which I have in my collection. I would
      like to exchange some of the leaf impressions with the readers of
      YOUNG PEOPLE. I would like for them Florida beans, sea-shells, or
      moss, or minerals from California or New Mexico. I have also some
      new specimens of different minerals which I would exchange for
      others.

  HERBERT E. PECK,
  P. O. Box 296, Colorado Springs, Colorado.

The Boys' Exploring Association alluded to in the above letter is a
society largely composed of the members of a Sunday-school in Colorado
Springs. Any boy in the school may become a member on the payment of a
trifling sum, and any other boy whose name is proposed by a member is
admitted by vote. The object of the society is to study the geology and
natural history of the surrounding country, and at certain seasons to
make exploring expeditions, under the leadership of the clergyman of the
church. The members pledge themselves to abstain from the use of tobacco
and intoxicating drinks, to use no vulgar or profane language, and to
carry no fire-arms while on exploring trips.

During the past summer some important discoveries have been made, and
the boys, while deriving much pleasure from these camping-out
excursions, have also gained physically, mentally, and morally.

We would be glad to receive reports of the future actions of this
society, which will undoubtedly be of interest to our young readers, and
will perhaps incite other boys to follow the example of these young
naturalists by forming societies to study the botanical, geological, and
other natural characteristics of the region in which they live. All
places may not contain so much that is new and wonderful as Colorado,
but everywhere nature has a great deal to teach, if boys and girls will
only open their eyes and hearts to learn.

       *       *       *       *       *

     I have a few patterns of lace, and would be very glad to exchange
     with Alice C. Little, or any other correspondent of YOUNG PEOPLE.

  ANNA E. BRUCE,
  Rimersburg, Clarion County, Pennsylvania.

       *       *       *       *       *

     I am a little boy ten years old. I live in Attleborough, where so
     much jewelry is made. I take YOUNG PEOPLE, and I think it is the
     best of all the papers for boys and girls.

      I would like to exchange postage stamps with any correspondent.

  JAMES ARTHUR HARRIS,
  Attleborough, Massachusetts.

       *       *       *       *       *

     I live in the Paper City, where they make seventy-five tons of
     paper in a day. I think some of the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE would
     like to go through the mills with me.

      I would like to exchange postage stamps with any one. I am eleven
      years old.

  WILLIE H. P. SEYMOUR,
  P. O. Box 210, Holyoke, Massachusetts.

       *       *       *       *       *

     I am seven years old. I am a subscriber to YOUNG PEOPLE, and I love
     to have my mamma read the letters from the dear little children in
     the Post-office Box. I go to school, but have to stay home on rainy
     days. I have neither brothers nor sisters. I am a New Mexican boy
     by birth, and travelled over three thousand miles with my dear papa
     and mamma, mostly in stage-coaches, when I was less than a year
     old.

      I have a large number of Mexican garnets, gathered by Indians upon
      the plains and in the mountains and cañons, that I will gladly
      exchange for choice sea-shells.

  CLAUDE D. MILLAR,
  Walnut Hills, near Cincinnati, Ohio.

       *       *       *       *       *

     I have begun to collect stamps, and I wish to procure as many rare
     ones as I can. I have two tiny shells which were picked up on the
     coast of the Mediterranean Sea by a lady missionary, and sent to
     America. I read letters from many shell collectors in the
     Post-office Box. I will send one of these shells to any boy or girl
     who will send me a reasonable number of foreign stamps in return.

  EFFIE K. PRICE, Bellefontaine, Ohio.

       *       *       *       *       *

     I would like to exchange rare specimens, coins and stamps, with any
     readers of YOUNG PEOPLE. I would also exchange an arrow made by a
     great Indian chief near here for something of equal value.

  ROBERT C. MANLY, P. O. Box 66,
  Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada.

       *       *       *       *       *

     I like YOUNG PEOPLE very much. I have taken it ever since it was
     published, and have learned a great deal from it.

      In exchange for sea-shells, sea-weed, or curiosities or relics of
      any kind, I will send a piece of the marble of which they are now
      building the Washington Monument, or a piece of the granite of
      which the new State, War, and Navy departments are being built, or
      both if desired. I would like to exchange with some one on the
      Florida and California coast. I am eight years old.

  T. BERTON RIDENOUS,
  1428 T Street, N. W., Washington, D. C.

       *       *       *       *       *

     I will exchange stamps from Egypt, Cape of Good Hope, Western
     Australia, Tasmania, Cuba, Barbadoes, Mexico, and other foreign
     countries, for others from New Brunswick, St. Lucia, Ecuador,
     Lagos, and Dominica. I will also exchange birds' eggs.

  WILLIE FORD, Austin, Texas.

       *       *       *       *       *

Exchanges are also offered by the following correspondents:

     Postmarks for specimens of red shale rock.

  SAM RISIEN, JUN.,
  Groesbeck, Limestone County, Texas.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Stamps and postmarks for curiosities, coins, Indian relics, or
     shells.

  A. H. SPEAR,
  167 Madison Street, Brooklyn, New York.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Shells for other curiosities.

  J. BATZER,
  Avenue O, between 18th and 19th Streets,
  Galveston, Texas.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Fossil shells for Indian relics.

  SARAH H. WILSON,
  Clermont, Columbia County, New York.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Foreign postage stamps with correspondents residing in Nova Scotia,
     Newfoundland, or Prince Edward Island.

  B. HOENIG,
  703 Fifth Street, New York City.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postage stamps.

  WARREN S. BANKS,
  207 East Eighty-third Street, New York City.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Soil of Texas for that of any other State.

  JOS. L. PAXTON,
  Taylor, Williamson County, Texas.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Twenty varieties of postmarks for five varieties of stamps from New
     Brunswick, Newfoundland, Nova Scotia, or Prince Edward Island.

  A. GRAHAM,
  161 Somerset Street, Newark, New Jersey.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postage stamps.

  C. M. HEMSTREET,
  108 South Fourteenth Street, St. Louis, Missouri.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Birds' eggs, foreign postage stamps, and postmarks for eggs.

  HARRY H. SMITH,
  833 Logan Street, Cleveland, Ohio.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Foreign postage stamps for postmarks.

  JAMES LEONARD,
  35 Madison Avenue, New York City.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Pressed autumn leaves for foreign postage stamps.

  DANIEL H. ROGERS,
  Mooretown, Butte County, California.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Rare stamps of all kinds.

  MORRIS STERNBACH,
  129 East Sixty-ninth Street, New York City.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Michigan postmarks and curiosities for postage stamps and minerals.

  TEDDY SMITH,
  641 Cass Avenue, Detroit, Michigan.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postage stamps.

  BESSIE C. SMITH,
  Mapleton, Cass County, Dakota Territory.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postage stamps from Japan, Egypt, Hungary, and other countries for
     stamps from China and South America.

  CLARENCE ROWE BARTON,
  1996 Lexington Avenue, New York City.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postage stamps for postmarks, stamps, Indian relics, and other
     curiosities.

  H. BEYER,
  576 Market Street, Newark, New Jersey.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postmarks.

  ANNE H. WILSON,
  Care of Harold Wilson, Esq., Clermont,
  Columbia County, New York.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postmarks for minerals or postmarks.

  WILLIAM H. MASON,
  392 Sixth Avenue (near Tenth Street),
  Brooklyn, New York.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postage stamps.

  BEN S. DARROW,
  545 North Illinois Street, Indianapolis, Indiana.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Soil of Maryland and Virginia for soil of the Northern and Western
     States.

  D. FLETCHER,
  Philopolis, Baltimore County, Maryland.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Five varieties of sharks' teeth for Indian arrowheads.

  F. H. WATERS,
  Philopolis, Baltimore County, Maryland.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Stamps, postmarks, and birds' eggs.

  HOWARD B. MOSES,
  Cheltenham Academy,
  Shoemakertown, Pennsylvania.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postmarks and curiosities.

  G. N. WILSON,
  Bairdstown, Oglethorpe County, Georgia.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Stamps, minerals, and eggs of the crow, flicker, spotted tattler,
     and kingfisher, for eggs of a loon, eagle, gull, or snipe.

  W. A. WEBSTER,
  394 Clinton Avenue, Brooklyn, New York.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Foreign postage stamps, birds' nests, shells, and minerals for
     birds' eggs, shells, and foreign coins.

  LAURA BINGHAM,
  Lansing, Michigan.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Chinese curiosities, agates, and postmarks for rare birds' eggs and
     postage stamps.

  C. H. GURNETT,
  Ingersoll, Ontario, Canada.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postage stamps and postmarks for stamps.

  MARY H. KIMBALL,
  P. O. Box 493, Stamford, Connecticut.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postage stamps.

  T. N. CATREVAS,
  13 West Twentieth Street, New York City.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postage stamps and coin.

  SAMMIE P. CRANAGE, Bay City, Michigan.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Postage stamps, especially specimens from Japan and Hong-Kong, for
     others.

  F. L. MACONDRAY,
  1916 Jackson Street, San Francisco, California.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Birds' eggs, stamps, and postmarks for the same, or for minerals,
     coins, or Indian relics.

  RALPH J. WOOD,
  39 (old number) Wildwood Avenue,
  Jackson, Michigan.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Five foreign postage stamps for an ounce of soil from any State, or
     thirty foreign stamps for an Indian arrow-head. No duplicate stamp
     in either exchange.

  C. B. FERNALD,
  1123 Girard Street, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Foreign postage stamps or United States postmarks for shells or
     minerals.

  GEORGE E. WELLS,
  40 Cottage Place, Hackensack, New Jersey.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Five rare foreign stamps for a good mineral specimen.

  C. C. SHELLEY, JUN.,
  93 South Oxford Street, Brooklyn, New York.

       *       *       *       *       *

     Sea and fresh water shells and minerals for other minerals and
     Indian curiosities.

  ROYAL FERRAUD,
  141 Front Street, West, Detroit, Michigan.

       *       *       *       *       *

WILLIAM TELL ARCHERS, NEW ORLEANS.--Bows vary in price from three
dollars to ninety and even one hundred dollars each. It would be well to
write to Messrs. Peck & Snyder, Nassau Street, New York city, importers
of English archery goods, for one of their catalogues. E. I. Horsman, of
80 William Street, New York city, would also send his catalogue on
application, and his list comprises all archery goods manufactured in
this country, which are sold at lower prices than the English
importations. We never heard of a whalebone bow on an archery field.

       *       *       *       *       *

HENRY R. C., GEORGE E. B., AND OTHERS.--Messrs. Harper & Brothers will
furnish the cover for YOUNG PEOPLE, Vol. I., at the price stated in the
advertisement on this page, but in no case can they attend to the
binding.

       *       *       *       *       *

LOUIS H.--A stamp collection consists of stamps of _different
denominations_ from all countries. The special locality in the country
from which the specimen is sent adds to the interest of a postmark, but
not to that of a stamp. Different issues of the same denomination, when
you can obtain them, should have a place in your stamp album. For
example, there have been a good many issues, varying in design and
color, of the United States three-cent stamp. Each one is a valuable
specimen; but if you have two or more exactly alike, paste only one in
your album, and reserve the duplicates for exchange.

       *       *       *       *       *

B. B.--It is not often that we can make room in the Post-office Box for
pictures, and we are constantly compelled to decline pretty and
interesting drawings by our young friends. We can much more easily give
space to a short description in writing of any curious phase of wild
Indian life that you may notice than to a pictured representation.

       *       *       *       *       *

W. E. L.--Your story shows imagination, but is not good enough to
print.--Unless you have a natural gift for ventriloquism you will find
it a difficult art to learn. Several books of instruction have been
published, but they are not very satisfactory, and you would learn
better by procuring a good teacher than by endeavoring to follow the
directions of a hand-book.

       *       *       *       *       *

E. A. DE L.--A badge expressing the motto of your society is not very
easy to invent. A gold shield bearing the letters F. S. arranged as a
monogram, in blue, white, or black enamel would be very simple, and as
appropriate, perhaps, as any more marked design.

       *       *       *       *       *

Favors are acknowledged from Charles Werner, Ida L. G., Harry C. Earle,
Pearl A. H., Isabella T. Niven, Will S. Norton, Mary K. Bidwell, George
K. Diller, Anna Wierum, Mark Manly, Latham T. Souther, Maggie
Behlendorff, Joey W. Dodson, Aaron W. King, Charlie, Hattie Wilcox,
Clara Clark, Florence M. Donalds, Eddie L. S., Sarabelle, E. T. Rice, J.
Fitzsimons, Cassie C. Fraleigh, Mary H. Lougee, Coleman E. A., Fred
S. C., Eddie R. T., Edgar E. Helm, Emmer Edwards, Eunice Kate, Clarence
D. C.

       *       *       *       *       *

Correct answers to puzzles are received from Lena Fox, H. M. P., Stella
Pratt, Mary L. Fobes, "Unle Ravaler," C. Gaylor, William A. Lewis, C. H.
McB., Cal I. Forny, The Dawley Boys, Mary S. Twing.

       *       *       *       *       *

PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

RHOMBOID--(_To Stella_).

Across.--A portable dwelling; a kind of food; to inclose; a poem.
Down.--A consonant; a printer's measure; novel; a genus of plants; to
hit gently; one of a printer's trials; a consonant.

  MARK MARCY.

       *       *       *       *       *

No. 2.

NUMERICAL CHARADE.

My whole is a Latin quotation, composed of 24 letters, from the fifth
book of Virgil's Æneid, which should be remembered by boys and girls.

My 8, 23, 18, 7, 13 is a city of South America.

My 3, 5, 24, 11, 22 is a city in India.

My 2, 14, 22, 20, 6, 19 is a town of Belgium.

My 1, 16, 24, 9 is a country of South America.

My 21, 16, 17, 10, 4 is one of the British West Indies.

My 15, 12, 11 is a town of Belgium, once a famous resort.

  J. D. H.

       *       *       *       *       *

No. 3.

ENIGMA.

  In HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE my first is hid.
  In goat my second, but not in kid.
  In letter my third, but the cunningest fox
  Will never find it in Post-office Box.
  My fourth is in apple, but not in tree.
  My fifth in Newton will always be.
  My sixth is in month, but never in day.
  My seventh in lightning, but not in ray.
  My eighth is in runic, but never in Goth.
  My ninth is hidden away in moth.
  My tenth is in cloth, which that insect destroys.
  My eleventh is in racket, but never in boys.
  My twelfth is in hearing, but is not in sight.
  My thirteenth in shining, but never in bright.
  The secrets I hide no man shall know
  Though years may come and years may go.

  DAME DURDEN.

       *       *       *       *       *

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN NO. 55.

No. 1.

  L O V E R
    N A V A L
      N I C E R
        L E V E R
          S I D E S

No. 2.

      S           E
    T E A       G A S
  S E I N E   E A G L E
    A N T       S L Y
      E           E

No. 3.

  A caci  A
  R  ave  N
  B  lu   E
  U nifor M
  T atto  O
  U niso  N
  S avag  E

Arbutus, Anemone.




HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE.

SINGLE COPIES, 4 cents; ONE SUBSCRIPTION, one year, $1.50; FIVE
SUBSCRIPTIONS, one year, $7.00--_payable in advance, postage free_.

The Volumes of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE commence with the first Number in
November of each year.

Subscriptions may begin with any Number. When no time is specified, it
will be understood that the subscriber desires to commence with the
Number issued after the receipt of the order.

Remittances should be made by POST-OFFICE MONEY-ORDER OR DRAFT, to avoid
risk of loss.

Volume I., containing the first 52 Numbers, handsomely bound in
illuminated cloth, $3.00, postage prepaid: Cover, title-page, and index
for Volume I., 35 cents; postage, 13 cents additional.

  HARPER & BROTHERS,
  Franklin Square, N. Y.




[Illustration: SOME ANSWERS TO WIGGLE No. 15, OUR ARTIST'S IDEA, AND NEW
WIGGLE, No. 16.]

The following also sent in answers to Wiggle No. 15:

T. A. C., C. S. C., D. H. Freeman, Thomas William Allen, Madgie Ranch,
Orin Simons, Norma Hall, L. C. Sutherland, Harry Lander, I. La Rue,
J. R. Glen, Percy F. Jamieson, Cevy Freeman, Isabel Clark, Christiana
Clark, Edna May Morrill, H. M. P., Long Legs, W. Bloomfield, Winthrop,
M. E. Farrell, Isabel Jacob, Emma Shaffer, Charles A. Holbrook, Robert
M., L. E. Torrey, Walter Doerr, Theo. F. Muller, K. E. K., C. Halliday,
H. F. S., E. De C., Athalia H. Daly, Kerfoot W. Daly, C. E. S. S.,
H. R., Ruby R. Carsard, Alexina Neville, Edward T. Balcom, Edwin Prindle,
Dollie Kopp, A. J. Carleton, Fernando Gonzala, Thomas Flaherty, John
Flaherty, Alice Brown, Frank Eaton, Winthrop M. Daniels, W. G. Harpee,
Pierre, Raba Thelin, Felix H. Gray, Freddie L. Temple, Winona D.
Anderson, Harry V. Register, Albert L. Register, S. Croft Register,
"Nelse Walton," W. H. C., John N. Howe, Dora K. Noble, Charles A.
Tomlinson, Irving W. Lamb, Burton Harwood, I. R. Herrick, E. W. Little,
Samuel von Behren, Harry Cowperthwait, Jack Nemo, Fanny Crampton, Mamie
B. Purdy, Percy B. Purdy, J. P. H., Mary A. Hale, E. D. F., Nella
Coover, F. Uhlenhaut, W. C. Siegert, P. N. Clark, Lillian Thomas, Annie
E. Barry, Charlie Conklin, Mary Burns, Lottie Norton, Hattie Venable,
Annie A. Siegert, E. W. Siegert, C. W. Mansur, G. W., "Bo-peep," Julius
Backofen, Nellie Beers, Oliver Drew, Frank W. Taylor, Willie A. Scott,
Reba Hedges, Arthur, Cora, Mark Manley, E. L. C., Thomas C. Vanderveer,
Nellie Hyde, George St. Clair, L. C. H., Mary C. Green, Frank Miller,
Helen S. W., P. B. A., Willie Dobbs, Charlie Dobbs, Agnes D. Cram,
Carrie Rauchfuss, L. O. S., Fred. K. Houston, Howard Starrett, Bertha W.
Gill, Willie B. Morris, Millie Olmsted, Nellie Cruger, F. J. Kaufman,
May Longwell, "Masher" (G. H. Gillett), Hattie Wilcox, Everett C. Fay,
C. H. T., Bennie Darrow, Claudius W. Tice, Lam, G. C. Meyer, Hugh
Downing, Carrie Davis, M. O. Krum, Howard Rathbon, D. B. C., Jun.,
Newton C., J. B. D., Ida Belle, Agnes, Edith Williams, Herman Muhr, Big
Brother, Tommy Roberts, Mamie Hornfager, Hattie Kerr.





End of Project Gutenberg's Harper's Young People, December 7, 1880, by Various