His look is that of forlorn respectability; his hat is greasy, and mapped with so many veins, caused by crushings, that it might have been used as a chair or, at least, a foot-stool; around his neck he wears a heavy cloth kerchief, and his long coat of by-gone fashion reaches nearly to the ankles, which are covered by shabby gaiters. He walks along at a very gentle pace and scans the windows of the houses for some sign that his services are wanted.



Perhaps business is dull, but in the neighborhoods where there are plenty of children he is pretty sure to find some work. Cane-seated chairs are durable, but they will not stand the rough usage of those little boys and girls who treat them as step-ladders and stamp upon them. It often happens that a neat English house-maid appears at the area railings with a chair that has a big, ragged hole in the seat, through which Master Tommy has fallen, with his boots on, in an effort to reach the gooseberry jam on the pantry shelf.

Master Tommy probably looks on while the repairs are being made, and is much interested by the dexterity with which the mender does his work. The old and broken canes are cut away, and the new strips are woven into a firm fabric, with little eight-sided openings left in it. The overlapping ends of the ribbons are trimmed with a sharp knife, and the chair-seat is as good as new.

It seems so easy that Tommy thinks he could have done it himself; but when he experiments with a slip of cane that the mender gives him, he finds that chair-mending is really a trade that must be learned.

Some chair-menders are blind men, and it is still more interesting to watch them at their work. The plaiting of the canes is done as unerringly by their unseeing fingers as by the men who can see, and with wonderful quickness. Occasionally the business is combined with that of basket-making, and should we follow poor old "Chairs-to-mend" home, we might discover his family busy weaving reeds and willowy branches with the same cleverness the father shows in handling the canes.



TWO KITTIES.

BY JOY ALLISON.



Two little kitties Wandered away Into the prairie One summer day. One on two feet, Rosy and fair, Almost a baby,— "Golden Hair."

Four feet,—useless, Eyes fast closed, Borne in a basket The other dozed. Searching in terror Far and wide, "Golden Hair's" mother Moaned and cried.

Mother Puss calmly Following slow, Listening,—calling Meoh!—Meoh!— Mother Puss found them, A little heap, Down in the deep grass Fast asleep.



"HARE AND HOUNDS."



"What shall we do?" the children said, By the spirit of frolic and mischief led, Frank and Lulu and Carrie, three As full of nonsense as they could be; Who never were known any fun to stop Until they were just about ready to drop.

Frank, whose "knowledge-box" surely abounds With games, spoke up for "Hare and Hounds." "Down the cellar, or up the stair, Here and there, and everywhere, You must follow, for I'm the Hare!" Lulu and Carrie gave quick consent, And at cutting their papers and capers went, For the stairs were steep, and they must not fail To have enough for a good long trail. Away went the Hare Right up the stair, And away went the Hounds, a laughing pair; And Tony, who sat Near Kitty, the cat, And was really a dog worth looking at, With a queer grimace Soon joined the race, And followed the game at a lively pace! Then Puss, who knew A thing or two, Prepared to follow the noisy crew, And never before or since, I ween, Was ever beheld such a hunting scene! The Hare was swift; and the papers went This way and that, to confuse the scent; But Tony, keeping his nose in air, In a very few moments betrayed the Hare, Which the children told him was hardly fair.

I cannot tell you how long they played, Of the fun they had, or the noise they made; For the best of things in this world, I think, Can ne'er be written with pen and ink. But Bridget, who went on her daily rounds, Picking up after the "Hare and Hounds," Said she didn't mind hearing their lively capers, But her back was broke with the scraps o' papers.

Carrie, next day, couldn't raise her head; Frank and Lulu were sick in bed; The dog and cat were a used-up pair, And all of them needed the doctor's care. The children themselves can hardly fail To tack a moral upon this trail; And I guess on rather more level grounds They'll play their next game of "Hare and Hounds."



JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.

So, here's October come again. Another pleasant year gone by, another lot of sermons done, and nobody the worse! Dear, dear, how time does fly in cheerful company, to be sure!

Well, my dears, keep a bright lookout for the new volume, and, meantime, don't open your eyes too wide while I bring to your notice

THE LARGEST MAN.

Albany, N.Y.

DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: Perhaps some of your other boys, who, like myself, wish to grow big and strong, would like to hear about the largest human being ever known,—Goliath of Gath,—a person almost large enough to need introduction by installments, but he is so well known that the ceremony is needless.

As nearly as I can make out, he was between ten and eleven feet high. When he went to battle he wore a coat-of-mail weighing one hundred and fifty-six pounds,—as heavy as a good-sized man; and the rest of his armor amounted to at least one hundred and fifteen pounds more. The head of his spear weighed eighteen pounds,—as heavy as six three-pound cans of preserved fruit,—and this he carried at the end of a long and heavy shaft!

Think what might happen if a man equally big and strong should live among us now, and insist on taking part in our games and sports? If he joined a boat-club, a curious six-oared crew could be made up, with him at one side and five other men opposite. And just imagine him "booming along" on a velocipede! If he joined the champion Nine, and hit a ball, where would that ball go to? If he called for a "shoulder-high" ball, wouldn't the catcher have to climb a step-ladder to catch behind the giant? And if he threw a ball to a base-man, wouldn't he be apt to throw it clean through him?

Probably no one can answer these questions, but they are interesting all the same, to yours sincerely,

R.V.D.

CATCHING BIRDS ON THE WING.

As if a man could ever hope to do that, or even to do so much as fly! And yet, word has already come to me of a man who has made a machine with which he actually has flown, up, down, with the wind, against the wind, and, in fact, any way he wished!

The particular machine he used looked, I'm told, rather like a big bolster-case blown full of air, and with a light frame-work of hollow brass tubes strapped to it underneath. In this frame-work was a seat for the man, and near him were two circular fans, which he turned round very fast indeed; one of the fans made the machine fly backward or forward, and the other made it go up or down, as he liked.

Now, this certainly seems to be a step ahead, or, rather, a flap upward; but you needn't expect to be chasing and catching eagles and albatrosses on the wing by dropping salt on their tails; at least, not just yet, my dears. The time for that sort of fun may come, perhaps; but it would be well not to crow too loudly at present.

THE BEE AND THE ANEMONE.

Des Moines, Iowa.

DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: The bee you told us of in your August sermon did not mistake the anemone for a flower. At least, I think not. No bee ever makes such a mistake as to settle on a poisonous flower, and I believe that this bee went to the anemone for water and not for honey. Bees will settle on pieces of straw afloat in the water, when seeking for water, and I believe they know, even while on the wing, where to find honey. Good-bye.—Your friend. N.E.H.

FRANGIPANI SCENT AND PUDDINGS.

"Let's begin with the puddings, and make sure of them," as a little boy once remarked. Well, then, in former times, Frangipani puddings were of broken bread, and their queer name is made from two words,—frangi, meaning "to break," and panus, "bread"; but, after some time, these puddings were made with pastry-crust and contained cream and almonds.

Frangipani scent, however, was named after a great marquis who first made it, getting it from the jasmine plant. And the marquis got his name from an ancestor whose duty it had been to break the holy bread or wafer in one of the church services, and who on that account was called "Frangipani," or "Breaker of Bread."

Now, this way of explaining how words come to be formed, sounds well enough, no doubt. But how are we to know, in this case, that the marquis didn't invent the pudding as well as the scent? However, I must leave you to puzzle out the problem for yourselves, my dears, while I give you some information about

A SEALED POSTMAN.

You've all heard of sealed letters, of course, and seen some, too, no doubt; but did you ever hear of the letter-carrier, also, being sealed? Well, a bit of news has come saying that, among the Himalaya Mountains, the men who carry the mails on horseback are sealed to their saddles, in such a way that while they can ride easily enough they cannot get down from their seats; and, what is more, the mail-packages are sealed to the men! Once started on the route, the seals are not allowed to be broken, except by the postmaster at the next station, and, if they happen to get broken otherwise than by accident, the carrier is severely punished.

The result of this sealing is that a mail-carrier who wishes to steal the letters in his charge is obliged to steal also the saddle and horse,—and himself as well, I suppose.

Nice places these carriers have to ride through, at times! Why, in some parts, the road is so steep that, in going down, the rider is kept upright by a rope passed under his arms and held in the hands of two men who are above him on the mountain. If it were not for this, the rider would fall over the head of his horse, or else cause the horse itself to go over head first.

Altogether, the postmen of the Himalayas must have a hard time of it.

WIND-HARPS.

East Saginaw, Mich.

DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: Please will you or any of your "chicks" tell me how to make a wind-harp, or Eolian harp?

Your friend, MINNIE WARNER.

Time and again have I heard tell of wind-harps and the sweet music the wind coaxes out of them. The sighing and singing of the breezes through the tree-tops must be something like it, no doubt. But I never heard a wind-harp's song, and of course don't know how to make one. Perhaps, some of you know, however, and if so I shall be obliged if you will send me word, so that I can pass it on to Minnie and the rest of my chicks.

"THE JOY OF THE DESERT."

In Africa is a vast, dreary waste, called the Desert of Sahara. In widely scattered spots of this desert there grows a tree that sends its roots down to springs far beneath the parched ground. Sometimes these springs are so far down that the trees are planted in deep holes, something like wells, so that the roots may reach water. Hardly anything except this tree can grow in that desert.

The fruit of the tree is delicious food; the long trunk makes poles for tents; the leaf-stalks make many kinds of basket and wicker work, walking-sticks and fans; the leaves themselves are made into bags and mats; and the fibers at the base of the leaf-stalks are twisted into cordage for tents and harness. The sap of the tree, drawn from a deep cut in the trunk near the top, after standing a few days, becomes a sweet and pleasant liquor. Cakes of the fruit pounded and kneaded together "so solid as to be cut with a hatchet," are carried by travelers going across the terrible desert.



Besides all this, trees of this kind, planted in groups, cast a shade which keeps the ground moist, so that other fruit-trees can live beneath them.

When the tree is about one hundred years old, it ceases to bear fruit, and is cut down for timber; but in its long life it has made its owner rich and a great many people comfortable.

The paragram which told me all this said, further, that this tree is the date-palm, and is called "The Joy of the Desert." Well may it be so called, I should think; though once I heard some of the children of the red school-house say they hated "dates." Perhaps they meant "dates" of some other kind.

BABIES IN BOOTS.

Where do you suppose Tartar mothers carry their little children?

Not on their shoulders, nor on their hips, nor in their arms, nor at their backs, nor on their heads.

Well, I'm told they carry them in their boots! These are made of cloth, and each is large enough to hold a child five years old!

ROOK COURTS AND BLACKBIRD POWWOWS.

DEAR JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT: In England, where I come from, I have seen meetings of vast numbers of birds, though never as many of such different kinds as those named by Z.R.B. in the letter which you gave us in July. Sometimes, a great number of rooks gather in a ring, and in the center of it is one lonely, dejected-looking rook, who holds his head down in silence. The other rooks seem to hold a consultation, chattering and cawing back and forth, sometimes one alone and sometimes all together, until they seem to decide what to do.

Then three or four old, solemn-looking rooks fly upon the lonely one and put him to death, as if he had been found guilty of some dreadful crime.

In this country, during spring, the blackbirds meet almost daily in the tops of high trees, especially elms and locusts, and there they chatter by the hour. Sometimes a few will fly off, angrily, with quick, sharp notes, to some tree a little way off. After a while, two or three more birds will join them from the large body. Then, perhaps, some of them will go back as "peace commissioners," and after a few more flights back and forth, and endless chatter, the little party may return to the main body; or, increasing in number, may form a second crowd as noisy as the first.

No doubt you have heard and seen many such powwows, dear Jack. Long may you live to watch the birds and repeat to us their wisdom! Truly your friend,

C.B.M.

AN INTERVAL NOT ON THE PROGRAMME.

I'm told that at Pompeii, Italy, in the year 79, a play was being acted in one of the theaters, when a storm of cinders fell, buried the whole city, and, of course, put a stop to the play, which has never been completed. A few months ago, however, an operatic manager named Languri made up his mind to have a new theater just where the old one stood; so, he printed in the Italian newspapers a notice that ran something like this:

"After a lapse of eighteen hundred years, the theater of Pompeii will be re-opened, with the opera of 'La Figlia del Reggimento.' I ask the continuation of the favor shown to my predecessor, Marcus Quintus Martius, and beg to assure the public that I shall make every effort to equal the rare qualities he displayed during his management."

If only Marcus Quintus Martius and his actors, and musicians, and the ancient audience, could have been at that re-opening of their long-buried theater, how they would have stared!



THE LETTER-BOX.

Our older boys and girls will find in this number an excellent article on "Parlor Magic," in which they are told, by Professor Leo Grindon, one of the Faculty of the Royal School of Chemistry in Manchester, England, how to perform some very interesting, and in some cases, quite astonishing experiments in chemistry, optics, etc. Some of our readers may be familiar with a few of these experiments, but the majority of them will be found novel to nearly all young people. Occasionally, there are materials or ingredients called for, which are somewhat expensive, and some of the experiments require a good deal of time and patience. But these are the exceptions, for nearly all the experiments described in the article can be performed by any careful and intelligent boy or girl of fourteen or fifteen, in a short time and at a very small cost.

Of course, in getting up a little "Parlor Magic Entertainment" it will not be necessary to try all the experiments described. Choose such as you think you can perform without fail, and which will be likely to interest the company you expect. Be careful not to try to do too many things in one evening, and, if possible, make each experiment in private, before you attempt to show your friends how it is done. This will not be necessary in every case, but if you make an experiment, for the first time, before company, be sure that you know exactly what you are going to do and how it ought to be done.

One more thing, the most important of all, we would impress on the mind of every reader of ST. NICHOLAS who tries any of these experiments, and that is the necessity for great care in handling and disposing of the chemical ingredients which may be used. Some of these, although perfectly harmless, when used as directed, are very injurious, if tasted, or even smelt very closely; and although the performer may himself be very prudent and careful with his materials and apparatus, he must not give the slightest opportunity to young children, or indeed any one who has not studied up the subject, to handle his chemicals.

With careful attention to the directions given in the article, a pleasant evening entertainment may easily be had, and if an occasional failure should take place, both the performer and the company should remember that an experiment is only a trial, and cannot be expected always to succeed.

* * * * *

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I went over to my uncle's one Saturday lately, to tea, and had baked beans. He never eats vinegar on them, excepting some made in January, 1851, when 40 gallons were frozen in 53 quart bottles. He told me there was no other such vinegar in the United States, and if I could hear of any one who has some prepared like it, and as old, he would give me as handsome a doll as I wanted. My object is to ask you to please publish my letter, and I may receive the doll, which I want very much, and oblige, with many thanks, one of your subscribers.

L.D.H.

* * * * *

London, England.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We are traveling in Europe for a short time, and I thought, perhaps, you might like to hear a short account of our journey. First, we went to Chester, one of the oldest cities in England. It is inclosed by a wall two miles around, which was built 1800 years ago. The "Rows" of Chester are very strange and interesting. They are rows of stores in the second stories of houses—with a sidewalk in front, supported by pillars and covered overhead. One may walk out on a rainy day and do a great variety of shopping without being at all exposed to the weather. The sidewalks below these rows, and on a level with the middle of the street are dingy and shabby, lined with forlorn looking little places inhabited by the poorer class.

There is an old house standing in an alley, in the garret of which one of the earls of Derby was hidden for three months.

A small part of an old church, which was built 200 A. D., still stands, and is one of the curiosities. There is also a tower where King Charles II stood and saw his army defeated, only, that was before he became king. Next we went to Stratford-on-Avon, where we saw Shakespeare's house, and I sat in his chair.

We lunched at the Red Horse Inn, in the room which Washington Irving had when he was there. I also sat in his chair. In the afternoon we went to Shakespeare's other house and gardens. He had two homes, but he only lived in one until he was seventeen years old.

We are now in London, and have been to see a few of the principal places. Westminster Abbey is one of the great sights. We saw a sitting figure of a duchess who died from the effects of lock-jaw, caused by pricking her finger with a needle, while at needle work on Sunday.

We also saw St. Paul's Cathedral, where there is a whispering gallery, so called, because, if you whisper on one side of the gallery, it may be heard on the other side as distinctly as if you were over there.

The South Kensington Museum contains a great many curiosities, and some of the things which Doctor Schliemann has dug up.

The National Art Gallery contains a great many beautiful pictures, and one room is devoted to Turner's paintings.

We have also been to see the Tower, where the little princes were murdered; they do not take you into the room where they stayed; but ST. NICHOLAS gave us a fine picture of that in January of 1874. We shall start for Paris soon.—From your little friend,

MAMIE CHARLES.

* * * * *

"MOTHER." Unpainted, strong and really amusing playthings, such as you inquire for, are to be found, we think, in almost any large toy-store. Animals, wagons, and various amusing things cut out of plain wood, abound nowadays, and they can be sent you by express from your nearest town. In our experience, however, we have found building blocks of most lasting interest to the little folks. Crandall's are the best, for they admit of an endless variety of combination.

* * * * *

Washington, D. C.

MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have a little sister, named Josie, who is six years old. She can read only a little, and she does not like to do it at all. She has plenty of toys, and a nice baby-house, but often she gets tired of playing and then comes to me to know what to do.

Now, I want to know if you cannot tell me something for her to do that will keep her quiet? I have another sister who is nine years old, but no brother.—Your loving reader,

ANITA R. NEWCOMB.

Anita may find a satisfactory hint in the answer to "Mother" given above. Also, the Kinder Garten games that are now used in many schools for very little folks may be of service to Josie.

* * * * *

London, Eng.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have just arrived in England. When we were fairly out at sea, the first thing I did was to explore the great ship. It was four hundred feet long, made entirely of iron, and sank twenty feet deep in the water. The masts were of hollow iron, and seventy feet high. It took nine furnaces and forty tons of coal a day to keep the ship going. The crew numbered a hundred and thirty-five. It seems very wonderful that a great heavy iron ship should not sink; the reason it does not is that it is lighter than the water it displaces.

When we were a few days out, a flock of land-birds rested on our ship. We fed them with crumbs, and brought dishes of fresh water on deck for them, but after a day or two they disappeared. A little further on, a hawk alighted on the vessel, and one of the sailors caught it when it was asleep.

To find out how fast we were going, the sailors threw the "log," which was no log at all, but a long thin rope with a small three-cornered canvas bag at one end. They throw out the bag, and it catches in the water and keeps the end of the rope steady. The rope runs out as the ship goes. One sailor stands with a time-glass, which holds as much sand as will fall in one minute from one half of it into the other. The glass is turned just when a certain mark on the rope passes over the rail, and, when all the sand has run, the rope is stopped. As the rope has lengths marked on it by bits of colored cloth, the sailors can tell how far the ship has gone in one minute, and can roughly calculate from that its rate of speed by the hour. Formerly a real log of wood was used instead of the bag.

The greatest event of the voyage was seeing a school of whales. There were dozens of them spouting and showing their backs above water. Another exciting thing was meeting a ship so near that we could salute it, which is done by hoisting and then lowering the flag once or twice. Ships have flags of different kinds, and each has its own meaning. So by hoisting certain flags, the captains of distant ships can exchange news.

When nearing the Irish coast, a dense fog settled upon us, so that we could hardly see from one end of the ship to the other. All day and all night the great fog-whistle was kept blowing to warn other vessels that might be in our neighborhood. To see a light house or landmark was impossible, but the captain found out where we were by soundings. Every ship has a long piece of lead with a hole in one end which is filled with tallow. The other end is fastened to a rope, and the lead is thrown overboard and sinks to the bottom. When hauled up, some of the sea-bottom is found stuck to the tallow, and from this and the depth of the water, the captain knows where he is, for the kinds of sand and mud at the bottom of the sea, and the varying depths of water, are plainly marked on his charts.

I cannot describe to you what a welcome sight the land was, after seeing nothing but water for so long. But when we had left the great ship behind, it seemed almost as if we were leaving home, glad though I was to get ashore.

Your loving reader,

F. D.

* * * * *

A correspondent sends us the series of "Beheaded Rhymes" which we print below. Each of the stanzas contains two examples of this kind of rhyming, and, in each example, the first blank is to be filled with a word that suits both the sense and the measure. The next blank that occurs is filled with all of the chosen word except its first letter; and this process goes on until the word can no longer be beheaded and yet leave another word. The making of such "Beheaded Rhymes" as these, in company, to see who can succeed best, sometimes whiles away very pleasantly a long evening of disagreeable weather.

A NIGHT'S ADVENTURES.

It made a most tremendous ——! (1.) I gave my horse a sudden ——: He threw me full against an ——, And broke my collar-bone. "What can I do in such a ——? (2.) My horse is gone, I have no ——," I murmured with a groan.

I was as wet as any ——; (3.) The wind and thunder made a ——, And neither moon nor star was ——; The night was black as sin. The fall had given me such a ——! (4.) And I was miles from any ——: I floundered on through mud and —— To reach the nearest inn.

But when I found the wished-for ——, (5.) And saw through windows dim with —— A fellow holding up an ——, I would have cried with fear. Each seat was filled by such a ——, (6.) As might have fled from any —— Of thief or buccaneer.

I strove to overcome my ——, (7.) And ventured on a traveler's —— To enter boldly there. The porter waved aloft a ——, (8.) But still I stepped within the —— And took an empty chair.

The leader gave a fearful ——; (9.) Sprang up, and overturned the ——. Oh! I could cover half a —— With what I felt that night. He came, and gave me such a ——, (10.) That I cried out amain, though —— With anguish and affright.

"Come, will you join our game of ——? (11.) Or do you choose that I should —— The wretch, who wishes naught but —— To honest men like us?" With that he flung me from the ——, (12.) And seizing on me by the ——, He drew me forth into the —— And made a dreadful fuss.

The night had now grown clear and ——. (13.) I wandered to a distant ——, And thought the cold ground not so ——, As was that fearful spot. But soon there passed a friendly ——, (14.) Who placed me in his empty —— And took me to his cot.

M. W.

The solutions are as follows: 1. Clash, lash, ash. 2. Plight, light. 3. Trout, rout, out. 4. Strain, train, rain. 5. Place, lace, ace. 6. Scamp, camp. 7. Fright, right. 8. Broom, room. 9. Scream, cream, ream. 10. Tweak, weak. 11. Skill, kill, ill. 12. Chair, hair, air. 13. Chill, hill, ill. 14. Swain, wain.

* * * * *

Pittsburg, Pa.

DEAR READERS OF "ST. NICHOLAS:" I live in a city of iron and steel manufactories. I will do my best to tell you how an ax is made.

The works are a beautiful sight at night, with their huge, glowing furnaces and the forms of the brawny workmen, passing between us and the light. In one furnace they are heating pieces of cast-iron, about twelve inches long, four inches wide, and one-half inch thick.

A workman takes a pair of long pincers, draws from the furnace one of the red-hot pieces of iron, and passes it to another workman. This workman is standing before two large wheels, which revolve slowly, and which have several notches in them. The piece of hot iron is placed between these wheels, with one end in a notch, and the iron is bent double, bringing the two ends together, making it look somewhat like a clothes-pin, except that the clothes-pin should have a hole at the head, like in the piece of iron, for a handle. The ends of the bent iron are next hammered together, after which the coming ax is again heated. It is then taken to the steam hammers. The first hammer joins the parts of the iron firmly together, while the second, having on its face the mold of an ax, gives the iron the same shape. The sides are then made straight and even by a circular saw.

But an ax in this shape could never be used to much effect, for cast-iron cannot be ground down to a fine enough edge. Steel can be ground, however, and so a piece of steel must be added to our iron ax. Two workmen take hold of the blade with pincers, and while one holds a sharp tool on the broad edge, the other strikes with a sledge. Into this split thus made, a piece of steel is slipped, and a steam hammer joins them firmly.

After this, the ax is tempered, sharpened and polished; and, when the blade is furnished with a handle, the ax is ready for sale.—Yours truly,

"THE DOCTOR."

* * * * *

The following is sent to us as written, without help, by a little girl nine years old.

THE HISTORY OF A CAT.

I am the family cat. I am not so very pretty, but they all like me very much. I have a pretty baby-kitten, and I have a daughter named Tortoise-shell. She is a pretty and good cat. She also has a baby-kitten prettier than mine. Mine has such big eyes that its little face does not look as cunning as my daughter's baby-kitten's face. My mistress is very good to me sometimes, but sometimes she pulls my tail and makes me mad, and I scratch her and then she slaps me back; but when she is good to me, and pets me, and gives me cake, then I purr to her.

Once my mistress' brother had a dog given to him. This dog's name was "Captain." I did not like him one bit.

My mistress' brother's friend tried to set the dog on me, but he would not come near me; so the boy let him alone.

When my mistress went to get my daughter's baby-kitten, Captain went with her. My mistress did not know that Captain went into the room with her. Tortoise-shell was tending her kitten, but, as soon as she saw the dog, she jumped up and scratched his nose good for him. He did not stay very long. He was given to my mistress' brother on Saturday. The next day, which was Sunday, my mistress and the rest of the family were at church; the dog got out, I don't know how, but when my mistress came home from church she looked all about, but could not find him anywhere. She was very sorry, but I was not sorry one bit; I was glad. So now we've come to the end.

G.M.M.

* * * * *

Oswego, N. Y.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Please will you tell me where I can find directions how to build a boat?—Yours respectfully,

HARRY MEAD.

Midland, 1878.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I wish that you would tell me how to make a yatch I have a schooner but she gets beat bad and I should like to know how to make a yatch that will beat them all I think one about 30 inches will be long enough.—I remain your constant Reader,

G.B.J.

In ST. NICHOLAS for July, 1875 (Vol. II.), Harry will find full directions how to make a serviceable boat at a small cost; and G.B.J., whose letter we print verbatim, also may find hints that will enable him to build an all-conquering "yatch."

* * * * *

Milwaukee, Wis.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am going to tell you about a game that we play here a good deal. I do not know what it is called. It can be played by any number, though the more the merrier. Each player must have a sheet of paper and a pencil. When all are supplied, each one must write across the top of the sheet a question, taking up as little room on the page as possible, and turning the paper down so as to cover up the writing, as in "Consequences." The paper is then passed to the next neighbor, who is to write a common noun, of any kind, under the question, and turn over in like manner. After the noun has been written, the paper is passed on. Then everybody opens the paper that last came to him, and must answer the question in rhyme, inserting the noun. I will give you an illustration.

EXAMPLE:

Question,—"Do you like pigs?" Common noun,—"Peas." Answer, in rhyme,—

"I love the gentle animals That sport about our home. And all among the peas and corn So happily do roam."

"Ah! little pigs I'll harm you not, Nor e'en disturb your play, But you shall have your own sweet will, And feed upon the best of swill, Through all the livelong day."

Will somebody answer thus this question, that was given to me: "Which was the greatest battle of Alexander the Great?"

Noun: "Toes."

Yours truly,

D.J.

* * * * *

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I send you a puzzle, which I hope you will print:

My first is in your body, Quite useful in its way. My second flows in Italy, And flows by night and day. My third, a thing to cook with, is In every kitchen found. My fourth's a common article, A very simple sound. My fifth folks often get into,— The careless ones, of course. My whole, a clumsy animal, Is partly named for horse.

R.N.P.

Answer: Hip-Po-pot-a-mus, hippopotamus.

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Wilmette, Ills.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been taking your book two years. I think it is splendid. Some of the stories are so funny. I go to a private school, and I am in the Fourth Reader. The girls play on one side of the grounds and the boys on the other; the cherry-trees are on our side, and I like it the best. We have lots of fun. I am nine years old. I have two little sisters, Belle and Marion, and a little brother, Bobo. When we get big we may write some stories for your book. We are little now, but everybody was little once.—Your friend,

KITTY GRIFFITHS.

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Philadelphia, Pa.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I do like you so much, and I wish you would tell me something. I see pictures and read books in which are the names Penelope, Juno, Achilles, Hercules, and so on. The dictionary tells but little about these names, and I want to know all about them. Can you tell me how to find out?—Truly your friend,

CARRIE H.

You can learn a good deal about the personages you mention from Bulfinch's "Age of Fable," from Alexander S. Murray's "Manual of Mythology," and from Mrs. Clement's "Handbook of Legendary and Mythological Art"; but the poems of Homer,—the "Iliad" and the "Odyssey,"—of both of which there are good English translations,—are the chief sources of the information.

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Chicago, Ills.

MY DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I send you an Enigma to publish in your magazine. The answer to the Enigma is "Washington."—Yours truly,

WILLIE M.

My 1, 9, 10, is the same as one. My 8, 1, is two-thirds of two. My 6, 5, 10, is three-fourths of nine. My 10, 9, 8, 4, 5, 6, 9, is nothing. My 3, 2, 1, is what my 5 did. My 8, 9, 10, is very heavy; but My 10, 9, 8, is not. My 6, 5, 7, 4, 8, is always somewhere, but not here to-day.

* * * * *

THE BOY ENGINEERS: WHAT THEY DID, AND HOW THEY DID IT, is an illustrated book published by Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons. It seems to have been written for readers living in England, but young amateur machinists anywhere would find it an entertaining book. It gives good practical hints about the management of tools, and explains how to turn and carve in wood and metal, how to make a clock, an organ, a small house, and how to set up a steam-engine. The type is large, and the style easy and pleasant.



THE RIDDLE-BOX.

VERY EASY SQUARE-WORD.

1. A pointed implement of brass or wood. 2. Wrath. 3. Not old.

A.W., AND F.E.D.

DECAPITATIONS.

1. Behead a bird's nest, and leave a lake in North America. 2. Behead a marine map, and leave a wild animal. 3. Behead a sail vessel, and leave a small narrow opening. 4. Behead a plant, and leave space. 5. Behead a basket or hamper, and leave standard or proportion. 6. Behead a sharp bargainer, and leave a company of people. 7. Behead a group of individuals, and leave a country girl. 8. Behead an act of deception, and leave high temperature.

ISOLA.

NUMERICAL ENIGMA.

The whole, composed of twelve letters, is a noted character of American fiction.

The 1, 8, 4, 12 is to rend asunder. The 3, 2, 6, 10 is a flower. The 11, 5, 7, 9 is an open, grassy space.

C. O.

EASY MELANGE.

1. Behead a pavement, and find a planet. 2. Syncopate the pavement, and give a shrub. 3. Transpose the planet, and leave the center. 4. Behead and transpose the center, and find a weed. 5. Transpose the weed, and give degree. 6. Syncopate the center, and leave an animal. 7. Behead the animal, and find skill. 8. Curtail the shrub and give excitement. 9. Behead and curtail the center, and leave a part of the body. 10. Behead and transpose excitement, and find a plant. 11. Syncopate excitement, and give an article of clothing. 12. Transpose skill, and leave an animal. 13. Reverse the animal, and find a sailor.

CABIN PUZZLE.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... ... . . ... . ... ... . . ... . ... ... . . ... . . . . . . .

The dots show where the letters are to be placed. The perpendicular and sloping lines of the building are read downward, the horizontals from left to right.

The letters that form the foundation, reading from extreme left to extreme right, signify (1) a fireside; those of the lower edge of the roof spell (2) liable to taxation; those of the ridge-pole mean (3) calls for; those of the left-hand corner-post denote (4) the cry of a domestic animal; those of the middle corner-post, (5) a free entertainment; those of the right-hand corner-post, (6) a large bird of prey; those of the left-hand sloping roof-edge, (7) an officer in an English university; those of the middle sloping roof-edge, (8) a regulated course of food; and those of the right-hand sloping roof-edge, (9) withered.

The chimney is a double word-square, and reads, downward, (10) bleared, (11) a man's name, (12) a farm-yard inclosure; across, (13) to plunge, (14) anger, (15) a playing piece in the game of chess. The door, also, is a double word-square: it reads, downward (16) a useful insect, (17) a city of Burmah (Farther India), (18) a resinous substance; across, (19) a wooden club, (20) a girl's name, (21) a part of the human body.

The left-hand window is a double word-square, and reads, downward (22) to bend under weight, (23) a prefix, (24) hitherto; across, (25) a secret agent, (26) exist, (27) to procure. The right-hand window, also, is a double word-square: it reads, downward, (28) to make brown, (29) a kind of poem, (30) angry; across, (31) a nickname for a boy, (32) a girl's name, (33) another nickname for a boy.

H.H.D.

DROP-LETTER STAIR PUZZLE.

—E E— E E —E E— E E —E E— E E —E E—

Going upstairs, find (reading from right to left): 1. A fish that lives in English waters. 2. Full to overflowing. 3. Reward 4. An animal. 5. A lively dance. 6. An edible plant. 7. To maintain hold upon.

Going down-stairs, find (reading from left to right): 1. To peep. 2. A part of a boat. 3. To look obliquely. 4. An aquatic plant. 5. To esteem. 6. To gather. 7. The seed of an oriental plant.

H.H.D.

PROVERB ENIGMA.

The proverb is composed of twenty-nine letters.

The 5, 13, 26, 19, 2 is a wild animal. The 9, 14, 20, 16, 3, 11 is a person employed in the building of houses. The 10, 23, 21, 1 is a common reptile. The 13, 4, 21, 7, 29 is a bird of fine plumage. The 25, 17, 6, 27, 8 is a bird that is attached to the dwellings of men. The 18, 28, 12, 24 is a swimming and diving bird of the Arctic Regions.

I.T.

KNIGHT'S-MOVE PUZZLE.

- lay tle on dom braves still square quered - ly truth press day the board ly strike - bat- this Per- a free- to che- from - and fierce- who Greeks down Mar- for on. - reads hard than sian youth the square this - as right each poured at horde ward fight - long so knight ly thr'gh the on leaps - As on life's may up bold- and to -

The above puzzle consists of a verse of eight rhyming eight-syllable lines; each syllable occupies a square and follows in succession according to the knight's move on the chess board.

F.W.

EASY HIDDEN FISHES.

In each of the following sentences find, concealed, the name of a well-known fish.

1. A Russian soldier, at Toms's, ate a salamander. 2. "Do you spell 'knob' as she does?" 3. "Where is my badge?" "Ella has it." 4. Francesco drew a large prize yesterday. 5. "Have the girls and boys seen Fanny Dunbar?" "Belle has." 6. My dolls had the measles last month. 7. Every soldier leaves his tent. "Rout the enemy!" is the battle-cry. 8. I heard, with regret, that she had lost her ring. 9. I composed a song of which the first verse begins something like this: "Hark! 'tis a cricket chirping." 10. Wax dolls melt when left too near the fire.

A.E.M.

POETICAL REBUS.

A two-line quotation from Cowper.



RIDDLE.

Gleaming gayly, flashing light; White as snow, and black as night; Ladies, I'm your slave, your pride, Though in ocean I abide.

Power have I o'er life and death,— I, a creature without breath! I, so small that you can draw Fifty, like me, through a straw.

R.S.C.

SUGGESTED WORD-SQUARE.

In the following rhyme, the words of the Square are suggested by the sense, and are to be inserted in the blanks, in order, as the blanks occur,—the first word in the first blank, the second word in the second blank, and so on.

To buy a —— was foolish waste. (I'd no —— how it would taste!) "I'll just have bread and ——," said Daisy. "Who —— a fruit like that, is crazy!"

B.

ANAGRAMS.

In the following sentence, the words printed in capitals are anagrams of the words that should occupy the same places, so as to make sense. Thus: BATTLE-SCREENS is a compound-word that takes the place of another to be formed of the same letters arranged differently; the right word, in this example, being "center-table;" but each of the other collections of capitals is an anagram of but a single word.

I saw TENT SUDS by the BATTLE-SCREENS, puzzling over THE MICA MATS, and perplexed about MANY ROOTS.

C.T.

REBUS.

A two line quotation from Shakspeare.



COMPLETE DIAMOND.

The centrals of the diamond are each the same word, of five letters, spelling the name of a Frenchman who became notorious during the great French Revolution. The remainder of the diamond is made of words formed from the letters of his name. The diamond incloses a hollow square, either of whose perpendiculars or horizontals, read backward or forward, will spell a word; and, reading from the middle letter to either end of either of the centrals, a word will be spelled, which, when read backward, will spell another word. Make the Diamond. TREBONIUS.

EASY AMPUTATED QUOTATION.

Two lines from Tennyson. Each word is beheaded and curtailed.

-RU- -EART- -R- -OR- -HA- -ORONET- -N- -IMPL- -AIT- -HA- -ORMA- -LOO-

C. L. D.

EASY CROSS-WORD PUZZLE.

My first is in bee, but not in fly; My second in moon, but not in sky; My third is in scare, but not in fright; My fourth is in top, and also in kite; My fifth is in broad, but not in wide; My sixth is in ocean, but not in tide; My whole is all New England's pride.

H. A. S.

ANAGRAM WORD-SQUARES.

From the letters composing each of the following four sentences make a word-square: 1. Doctor, do Irish histories err? 2. Let their hotel gardener grin. 3. Post shall need man's sympathy. 4. Hurrah, Peg has the gallant pup! The meaning of the words composing the four squares, in the proper order of succession, are as follows:

I. 1. A band of singers. 2. A wandering troop of barbarians. 3. A plant with a sweet-smelling root. 4. A simpleton. 5. Is quiet.

II. 1. A spelled number. 2. A lazy person. 3. A dazzling light. 4. A marsh bird. 5. A river of England.

III. 1. Profundity. 2. To try. 3. A sacred song. 4. A claw. 5. Poems.

IV. 1. A noise that no animal but man can make. 2. The name of a letter of the Greek alphabet. 3. Part of a shoe. 4. A town of Belgium. 5. Deer.

A. + B.



ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN SEPTEMBER NUMBER.

CLASSICAL DOUBLE ACROSTIC.—Virgil—Horace. 1. VoucH. 2. IagO. 3. RoaR. 4. GeorgiA. 5. IoniC. 6. LittlE.

NAMES OF AUTHORS ENIGMATICALLY EXPRESSED.—1. Poe. 2. Defoe. 3. Hawthorne. 4. Prescott. 5. Hay. 6. Cooper 7. Sparks. 8. Lever. 9. Lover. 10. Boswell.

ENIGMA.—Bridle.

WHAT IS IT.—A switch.

CHARADE.—Nightingale; night, in(n), gale.

CENTRAL SYNCOPATIONS.—1. Mouth, moth. 2. Carve, cave. 3. Maxim, maim. 4. Cabin, Cain. 5. Coronet, cornet.

THREE DIAMONDS.—

T C I G I G A L I U N A I. T I B E R II. C L O V E III. I N D I A G E M I V Y A I M R E A

PICTORIAL ANAGRAM.—"Procrastination is the thief of time."

INCOMPLETE SENTENCES.—1. Fair, fare. 2. Rite, right, write. 3. Maid, made. 4. Reads, reeds. 5. Beats, beets. 6. Bawl, ball. 7. Mien, mean. 8. Fain, feign, fane.

RIDDLE.—River.

POSITIVES AND COMPARATIVES.—1. Flat, flatter. 2. Ham, hammer. 3. Gross, grocer. 4. Lad, ladder. 5. On, honor. 6. Eye, ire. 7. Poe, pore. 8. Pie, pyre. 9. Mart, martyr.

DOUBLE WORD-SQUARE.—G O N E A V E R L E E R E N D S

HIDDEN NAMES.—In each sentence, take the first letter of each word. 1. Alma. 2. Helen. 3. Arthur. 4. Mabel. 5. Harry. 6. Ethel. 7. Ernest. 8. Edith. 9. Fred. 10. Stella. 11. Edwin. 12. Grace. 13. Frank.

EASY CROSS-WORD ENIGMA.—Dictionary.

REBUS.—"Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath?"

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.—Victoria-Disraeli. 1. ViviD. 2. I, I. 3. CorpS. 4. ToweR. 5. OperA. 6. RarE. 7. IdyL. 8. AlighierI.

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE AUGUST NUMBER were received, before August 20, from Eva D., "Patrolman Gillooley," John C. Robertson, "Three Sisters," "So So," Mary C. Warren, May Bleecker, Daisy Briggs, George P. Dravo, "Doctor," Louisa F. Riedel, C.A.K., Bessie L. Barnes, Nessie E. Stevens, Southwick C. Briggs, Mary Louise Hood, Olive Mecklem, Edwin E. Ganegues, Anna Halliday, Edith McKeever, M.W.C., Lewis G. Davis, Bessie Hard, Edith Herkimer, Nina Riker, Marnie Riker; Jerome Buck, Jr.; Nellie Emerson, "Soft Soap," Jessie W. Cox, Fleta M. Holman, "Robbie, Irvie, and Daisy," Hild Sterling; Edith and Marion W.; Mary H. Bradley, Alice L. Booth, Willie Gray, Mamie, "Nantucket" Harry; F.M.J., Jr.; Jennie R. Beach, Maud L. Smith, Alice Lanigan, Walter Stockdale, Rowen S. McClure, Anita R. Newcomb, Bertie Jackson, M.G.A., Cora Rawson Ryder, "Apelles and his Papa," "Fritters," George H. Williams, Richard Weld, Winsor Weld, Georgine C. Schnitzspahn, "Rosalind," H.B. Ayers, "Oriole," Fred S. Cowperthwait, Benj. W. Mannus, Lizzie Thurber, "The Raven"; Horace White and Grant Squires; Neils E. Hansen, "Winnie," Chas. H. Stout, Kitty P. Norton, Laurie T. Sanders; "Box 325, St. Thomas," Annie J. Buzzard, Harry Bennett, Jennie Kimball, Dycie Warden, Margaret McF. Lukens, "Ratie and Katie," "S.G., and P.M.," Ann Hulme Wilson, Eddie Vultee, Dolly, Jessie Van Brunt, Willie R.C. Corson, Lincoln Cromwell, T.J. De la Hunt, "Stock-broker," Bessie C. Barney, Bessie Taylor, Willie F. Floyd, and Louise G. Hinsdale.

Grace Rosevelt, Amy Growly, Ellen Smith, "B.Y.G.H. Caroni and Wife," "V. and A.," and O.C. Turner, answered correctly all the puzzles in the August number.

Gladys H. Wilkinson, of Manchester, England answered several of the puzzles in the July number, but his letter did not come in time for adding his name to the July list. The delay was not his fault, so the credit due is now given.

THE END