The Project Gutenberg EBook of St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and Girls, Vol. 5, Nov 1877-Nov 1878, by Various This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: St. Nicholas Magazine for Boys and Girls, Vol. 5, Nov 1877-Nov 1878 Scribner's Illustrated Author: Various Editor: Mary Mapes Dodge Release Date: June 23, 2005 [EBook #16123] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ST. NICHOLAS MAGAZINE *** Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Lesley Halamek and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net . A BRAVE GIRL. ST. NICHOLAS. VOL. V. JUNE, 1878. No. 8. [Copyright, 1878, by Scribner & Co.] [Transcriber's Note: The Original had no Table of Contents; I have added one for ease of navigation. The main Title is the Link.] CONTENTS A TRIUMPH. BY CELIA THAXTER. PAGE 513 ONE SATURDAY BY SARAH WINTER KELLOGG. 514 MRS. PETER PIPER'S PICKLES. BY E. MÜLLER. 519 UNDER THE LILACS. (Serial) CHAPTER XIV.-SOMEBODY GETS LOST. CHAPTER XV.-BEN'S RIDE. BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT. 523 MASTER MONTEZUMA. (With Illustrations copied from Mexican Hieroglyphics.) By C.C. HASKINS. 535 A LONG JOURNEY. BY JOSEPHINE POLLARD. 540 THE LITTLE RED CANAL-BOAT. BY M.A. EDWARDS. 541 THE BUTTERFLY CHASE. BY ELLIS GRAY. 548 HOW TO MAKE A TELEPHONE. BY M.F. 549 ONLY A DOLL! BY SARAH O. JEWETT. 552 DAB KINZER: A STORY OF A GROWING BOY. (Serial) Chapters I, II, III, IV BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD. 553 HOW WILLY WOLLY WENT A-FISHING. BY S.C. STONE. 562 CRUMBS FROM OLDER READING. BY JULIA E. SARGENT. III.--THOMAS CARLYLE. 565 JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT. (Letter-Box) A ROPE OF EGGS. CONVERSATION BY FISTICUFFS. A HORSE THAT LOVED TEA. TONGUES WHICH CARRY TEETH. DIZZY DISTANCES. LAND THAT INCREASES IN HEIGHT. THE ANGERED GOOSE. A CITY UNDER THE WATER. REFLECTION. 566 "FIDDLE-DIDDLE-DEE!" 568 THE LETTER-BOX. (Dear St. Nicholas) A BRAVE GIRL. LETTERS... SOME THINGS WHICH WE EXPECT IN YEARS TO COME. THE TRUE STORY OF "MARY'S LITTLE LAMB". LETTERS... ACROSTIC. CITY CHILDREN'S COUNTRY REST. ANSWERS TO MR. CRANCH'S POETICAL CHARADES received from... ERRATUM.-- ANSWERS TO PUZZLES in the April number were received... CORRECT SOLUTIONS of all the puzzles were received from... 572 THE RIDDLE-BOX. EASY BEHEADINGS. ACCIDENTAL HIDINGS. METRICAL COMPOSITIONS. PORTIONS OF TIME. MELANGE. EASY CLASSICAL ACROSTIC. ENIGMA. ANAGRAMS. PICTORIAL PUZZLE. EASY DIAMOND PUZZLE. CHARADE. NUMERICAL PUZZLE. FOUR-LETTER SQUARE-WORD. EASY CROSS-WORD ENIGMA. METAGRAM. EASY ACROSTIC. BLANK WORD-SYNCOPATIONS. CHARADE. TRANSPOSITIONS OF PROPER NAMES. SQUARE-WORD. ADDITIONS. LABYRINTH. 574 ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN MAY NUMBER. 576 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS A BRAVE GIRL. PAGE Frontispiece "I BELIEVE SHE'S GONE DRY," SAID KIT. 518 TWO CROWS. 519 THEY TURNED OUT THEIR TOES SO GRACEFULLY. 519 TANGLED IN THE LONG GRASS. 520 OH, MY! HE'S GOING BACKWARDS! 520 THIS IS TWICE AS DEEP AS YOU WERE IN. 521 THERE, IN THE TWILIGHT, HE SAW A LONELY FIGURE STANDING ON ONE LEG. 521 AT THE CIRCUS. 524 BEN AND LITA AT THE BROOK. 529 MASTER MONTEZUMA'S PARENTS TAKE HIM TO THE PRIEST AND THE TEACHER. 536 MASTER MONTEZUMA MUST BE PUNISHED. 537 MASTER MONTEZUMA IS TAUGHT HOW TO FISH. 537 MASTER MONTEZUMA IS TALKED TO BY HIS FATHER. 537 CARRYING THE BRIDE. 538 THE WEDDING OF MONTEZUMA. 538 A PEACE-OFFERING IN THE YEAR ONE RABBIT. 539 PROTECTING THE GRAIN FROM RATS, IN THE YEAR ONE RABBIT. 539 THE EMPEROR MONTEZUMA, SEATED IN THE ROYAL HALLS. 540 CHARLOTTE WAS PUSHING THE BOAT ALONG, MAKING HER WAY TO THE LANDING-STAIRS. 542 AT THE FIRE-WOMAN'S. 544 THE BOYS WITH THEIR BOATS. 546 BELL'S TELEPHONE. Fig. 1 and Fig. 2 550 Fig. 3. A "CIGAR-BOX" TELEPHONE. 551 "POLLY, MY DOLLY! WHY DON'T YOU GROW?" 552 DAB GIVES DICK HIS OLD CLOTHES. 556 "IS YOUR NAME DABNEY KINZER?" 559 MAKING READY FOR A CRUISE. 561 WILLY WOLLY GOING FISHING. 562 WILLY WOLLY CAUGHT HIMSELF. 563 MOTHER UNHOOKS WILLY WOLLY. 564 "JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT." 566 THE ANGERED GOOSE. 567 THE LITTLE BROWN WREN. 568 THE LITTLE BANTAM HEN. 568 THE SPECKLED GUINEA-HEN. 569 THE DUCK. 569 THE DOG. 570 THE HORSE. 570 ALL IN PROCESSION. 571 PICTORIAL PUZZLE. 575 LABYRINTH. 576 A TRIUMPH. BY CELIA THAXTER. Little Roger up the long slope rushing Through the rustling corn, Showers of dewdrops from the broad leaves brushing In the early morn, At his sturdy little shoulder bearing For a banner gay, Stem of fir with one long shaving flaring In the wind away! Up he goes, the summer sunshine flushing O'er him in his race, Sweeter dawn of rosy childhood blushing On his radiant face. If he can but set his standard glorious On the hill-top low, Ere the sun climbs the clear sky victorious, All the world aglow! So he presses on with childish ardor, Almost at the top! Hasten, Roger! Does the way grow harder? Wherefore do you stop? From below the corn-stalks tall and slender Comes a plaintive cry— Turns he for an instant from the splendor Of the crimson sky, Wavers, then goes flying toward the hollow, Calling loud and clear: "Coming, Jenny! Oh, why did you follow? Don't you cry, my dear!" Small Janet sits weeping 'mid the daisies; "Little sister sweet, Must you follow Roger?" Then he raises Baby on her feet, Guides her tiny steps with kindness tender, Cheerfully and gay, All his courage and his strength would lend her Up the uneven way, Till they front the blazing East together; But the sun has rolled Up the sky in the still Summer weather, [Page 514] Flooding them with gold. All forgotten is the boy's ambition, Low the standard lies, Still they stand, and gaze—a sweeter vision Ne'er met mortal eyes. That was splendid; Roger, that was glorious, Thus to help the weak; Better than to plant your flag victorious On earth's highest peak! ONE SATURDAY BY SARAH WINTER KELLOGG. It was an autumn day in the Indian summer time,—that one Saturday. The Grammar Room class of Budville were going nutting; that is, eight of them were going,—"our set," as they styled themselves. Besides the eight of "our set," Bob Trotter was going along as driver, to take care of the horses and spring wagon on arrival at the woods, while the eight were taking care of the nutting and other fun. Bob was fourteen and three months, but he was well-grown. Beside, he was very handy at all kinds of work, as he ought to have been, considering that he had been kept at work since his earliest recollection, to the detriment of his schooling. It had been agreed that the boys were to pay for the team, while the girls were to furnish the lunch. In order to economize space, it was arranged that all the contributions to the lunch should be sent on Friday to Mrs. Hooks, Clara of that surname undertaking to pack it all into one large basket. It was a trifle past seven o'clock Saturday morning when Bob Trotter drove up to Mr. Hooks's to take in Clara, she being the picnicker nearest his starting point. He did not know that she was a put off-er. She was just trimming a hat for the ride when Bob's wagon was announced. She hadn't begun her breakfast, though all the rest of the family had finished the meal, while the lunch which should have been basketed the previous night was scattered over the house from the parlor center-table to the wood-shed. Clara opened a window and called to Bob that she would be ready in a minute. Then she appealed to everybody to help her. There was a hurly-burly, to be sure. She asked mamma to braid her hair; little brother to bring her blue hair-ribbon from her bureau drawer; little Lucy to bring a basket for the prospective nuts; big brother to get the inevitable light shawl which mamma would be sure to make her take along. She begged papa to butter some bread for her, and cut her steak into mouthfuls to facilitate her breakfast, while the maid was put to collecting the widely scattered lunch. Mamma put baby, whom she was feeding, off her lap—he began to scream; little brother left his doughnut on a chair—the cat began to eat it; little Lucy left her doll on the floor—big brother stepped on its face, for he did not leave his book, but tried to read as he went to get the light shawl; papa laid down his cigar to prepare the put-offer's breakfast—it went out; the maid dropped the broom—the wind blew the trash from the dust-pan over the swept floor. Clara continued to trim the hat. As she was putting in the last pin, mamma reached the tip end of the hair, and called for the ribbon to tie the braid. "Here 'tis," said little brother. "Mercy!" cried Clara, "he's got my new blue sash, stringing it along through all the dust. Goose! do you think I could wear that great long wide thing on my hair?" Little brother said "Scat!" and rushed to the rescue of his doughnut, while Lucy came in dragging the clothes-basket, and big brother entered with mamma's black lace shawl. "Well, you told me to get a light one," he replied to Clara's impatient remonstrance, while Lucy whimpered that they wouldn't have enough nuts if the clothes-basket wasn't taken along. However, when Bob Trotter had secured Clara Hooks, the other girls were quickly picked up, and so were the four boys, for Bob was brisk and so were his horses. Dick Hart was the last called for. He had been ready since quarter past six, and with his forehandedness had worried his friends as effectually as the put- offer had hers. When the wagon at last appeared with its load of fun and laughter, he felt too ill-humored to return the merry greetings. [Page 515] "A pretty time to be coming around!" he grumbled, climbing to his seat. "I've been waiting three hours." "You houghtn't to 'ave begun to wait so hearly," said Bob, who had some peculiarities of pronunciation derived from his English parentage. "It would be better for you to keep quiet," Dick retorted. "You ought to have your wages cut, coming around here after nine o'clock. We ought to be out to the woods this minute." "'Taint no fault of mine that we haint," said Bob, touching up his horses. "Whose fault is it, if it isn't yours?" Dick asked. Clara Hooks was blushing. "Let the sparrer tell who killed Cock Robin," was Bob's enigmatical reply. "What's he talking about?" said Julius Zink. "I dunno, and he don't either," replied Dick. "He doesn't know that or anything else," said Sarah Ketchum. It was not possible for Sarah to hear a dispute and not become an open partisan. "I know a lady when I see 'er," said Bob. "You don't," said Dick, warmly. "You can't parse horse. I heard you try at school once." "I can curry him," said Bob. "You said horse was an article." "So he is, and a very useful harticle." One of the girls nudged her neighbor, and in a loud whisper intimated her opinion that Bob was getting the better of Dick. At this Dick grew warmer and more boisterous, maintaining that the boys ought not to pay Bob the stipulated price since they were so late in starting. "Hif folks haint ready I can't 'elp it," said Bob. "Who wasn't ready?" demanded Constance Faber. "You didn't wait for me, I know." "And you didn't wait for me or Mat Snead," added Sarah Ketchum, "because we walked down to meet the wagon." Clara Hooks's face had grown redder and redder during the investigation; but if Clara was a put-offer, she was not a coward or a sneak. "He waited for me," she now said, "but I think it's mean to tell it wherever he goes." "I haint told it nowheres." "You just the same as told; you hinted." "Wouldn't 'ave 'inted ef they hadn't kept slappin' at me," was Bob's defense, which did not go far toward soothing the mortified Clara. Not all of this party were pert talkers. Two were modest: Valentine Duke and Mat Snead. These sat together, forming what the others called the Quaker settlement, from the silence which prevailed in it. The silence was now broken by a remark from Valentine Duke irrelevant to any preceding. "Nuts are plentier at Hawley's Grove than at Crow Roost," he jerked, out, and then locked up again. "Say we go there, then," said Kit Pott. "Let's take the vote on it. Those in favor of Hawley's say aye." The ayes came storming out, as though each was bound to be the first and loudest. "Contrary, no," continued the self-made president; and Bob Trotter voted solidly "No!" "We didn't ask you to vote," said Dick, returning to his quarrel. Dick was constitutionally and habitually pugnacious, but he had such a cordial way of forgiving everybody he injured that people couldn't stay mad with him. Indeed, he was quite a favorite. "I'm the other side of the 'ouse," Bob answered Dick. "You can't carry this hidee through without my 'elp." "We hired you to take us to the woods." "You 'ired me and my wagin and them harticles—whoa!" (Bob's "harticles" stopped)—"to take you to Crow Roost. You didn't 'ire me for 'Awley's, and I haint goin' ther' without a new contract." "What difference is it to you where we go?" Dick demanded. "You belong to us for the day." "Four miles further and back,—height miles makes a difference to the harticles." Murmurs of disapproval rendered Dick bold. "Suppose we say you've got to take us to Hawley's," he said, warmly. "Suppose you do," said Bob, coolly. "I'd like to know what you'd say about it," said Dick, warmly. "Say it and I'll let you know," said Bob, coolly,—so very coolly that Dick was cooled. A timely prudence enforced a momentary silence. He forebore taking a position he might not be able to hold. "Say, boys, shall we make him take us to the grove?" Bob smiled. Val Duke smiled, too, in his unobtrusive way, and suggested modestly, "We ought to pay extra for extra work." "Pay him another quarter and be done with it," said Kit Pott. Beside being good-natured, Kit didn't enjoy the stopping there in the middle of the road. "It's mighty easy to pay out other people's money," sneered Dick, resenting it that Kit seemed going over to the enemy. Kit's face was aflame. His father had refused him any money to contribute toward the picnic expenses, and here was Dick taunting him with it before all the girls. "You boys teased me to come along because you didn't know where to find the nuts," said Kit. The girls began to nudge each other, making whimpered explanations and commentaries, agreeing that is was mean in Dick to mind Kit, and Clara Hooks spoke up boldly; "I wanted Kit to come along because he's pleasant and isn't forever quarreling." "Oh!" Dick sneered more moderately, "we all know you like Kit Pott. You and he had better get hitched; then, you'd be pot-hooks." This set everybody to laughing, even Dirk's adversary, Bob Trotter. "Pretty bright!" said Julius Zink. "Bright, but not pretty," said Mat Snead, blushing at the sound of her voice. "Hurrah! Mat's waked up," said Julius. "It's the first time she's spoken since we started," said Sarah Ketchum. "This isn't the first time you've spoken," Mat quietly retorted, blushing over again. Everybody laughed again, even Sarah Ketchum. "Sarah always puts in her oar when there's any water," said Constance Faber. "I want to know how long we're to sit here, standing in the middle of the road," said Julius. Again everybody laughed. When grammar-school boys and girls are on a picnic, a thing needn't be very witty [Page 516] or very funny to make them laugh. From the ease with which this party exploded into laughter, it may be perceived that in spite of the high words and the pop-gun firing, there was no deep-seated ill-humor among them. "To Crow Roost and be done with it!" said Dick. "All right," assented several voices. "Crow Roost, Bob, by the lightning express," said Dick, with enthusiasm. "But, as you were so particular," said Sarah to Bob, "we're going to be, too. We aint going to give you any lunch unless you pay for it." "Not a mouthful," said Clara. "Not even a crumb," said Constance. Nobody saw any dismay in Bob's face. I don't intend to tell you about all the sayings and all the laughter of those boys and girls on their way to Crow Roost. They wouldn't like to have me, and you wouldn't. Bob Trotter ran over a good many grubs and way- side stumps, and at every jolt Constance screamed, and Dick scolded and then laughed. Mat Snead spoke three words. She and Valentine had been sitting as though in profound meditation for some forty minutes, when he said: "Quite a ride!" "Very; no, quite," she answered, in confusion. Sarah Ketchum said everything that Mat didn't say. She was Mat's counterpart. All grew enthusiastic as they approached the woods, and when the wagon stopped they poured over the side in an excited way. "What shall we do with the lunch-basket?" "Leave it in the wagon," said Sarah Ketchum, whose counsel, Kit said, was as free as the waters of the school pump. Clara objected to leaving it. Bob would eat everything up. "Let's take it along." "Why, no," said Julius. He was the largest of the boys, and, according to the knightly code, he remembered the carrying of the basket would devolve upon him. "Yes, we must carry it along," Sarah Ketchum insisted. "Bob sha'n't have a chance at that basket if I have to carry it around on my back." Constance, too, said, "Take it along." "It's easy enough for you girls to insist on having the basket toted around," said Dick, "because girls can't carry anything when there are boys along; but suppose you were a poor little fellow like Jule." "I wont have to climb the trees with it on my back, will I?" said Julius. "I'll tell you," he continued, lowering his tone—Bob had heard all the preceding remarks—"we'll hang our basket on a hickory limb. It will be safe from hogs, and the leaves will hide it from Bob." This proposition was approved, and the basket was carried off a short distance and slyly swung into a sapling. Then the eight went scurrying through the woods, leaving Bob with the horses. Wherever they saw a lemon-tinted tree-top against the sky or crowded into one of those fine autumn bouquets a clump of trees can make, there rushed a squad of boys, each with his basket, followed by a squad of girls, each with her basket. But in a very short time the girls were tired and the boys hungry. All agreed to go back to the lunch. So back they hurried, the nuts rolling about over the bottoms of the baskets. Julius had the most nuts; he had eleven. Mat had the smallest number; she had one. "I hope you girls brought along lots of goodies," said Dick. "Seems to me I never was so hungry in my life." "I believe boys are always hungry," said Sarah Ketchum. Val Duke was leading the party. He got along faster than the others, because he wasn't turning around every [Page 517] minute to say something. He made an electrifying announcement: "A cow's in the basket!" "Gee-whiz!" said Dick, rushing at the cow. "Thunder!" said Julius, and he gathered a handful of dried leaves and hurled them at the beast. Kit said "Ruination!" and threw his cap. Clara said "Begone!" and flapped her handkerchief in a scaring way. Sarah Ketchum said, "Shew! Scat!" and pitched a small tree-top. It hit Dick and Valentine. Constance said "Wretch!" and didn't throw anything. Mat didn't say anything and threw her hickory-nut. Val threw his basket, and hung it on the cow's horn. She shook it off walked away a few yards, then turned and stared at the party. "Lunch is gone, every smitch of it!" said Kit. "Hope it'll kill her dead!" said Sarah Ketchum. "We'd better have left it in the wagon. Bob couldn't have eaten it all," said Clara. "I wish Jule had taken it along," said Dick. "I wish Dick had taken it along," said Julius. "But what're we going to do?" said Constance. "We might buy something if anybody lived about here." "There isn't any money." "Dick might give his note, with the rest of us as indorsers," said Julius. "We might play tramps and beg something." "But nobody lives around here." "Hurrah!" said Dick, who had been prowling about among the slain. "Here's a biscuit, and here's a half loaf of bread." "But they're all mussed and dirty," said Sarah. "You might pare them," Mat suggested. "Yes, peel them like potatoes," said Julius. "But what are these among so many? The days of miracles are past." "What shall we do?" said one and another. "Milk the cow," said Mat. Boys and girls clapped their hands with enthusiasm, and cried "Splendid!" "Capital!" etc. "I'll milk her," said Dick. "Hand me that cup. I'm obliged to the cow for not eating it." The cow happened to be a gentle animal, so she did not run away at Dick's approach, yet she seemed determined that he should not get into milking position. She kept her broad, white-starred face toward him, and her large, liquid eyes on his, turning, turning, turning, as he tried over and over to approach her flanks, while the others stood watching in mute expectancy. "Give her some feed," said Mat. "Feed! I shouldn't think she could bear the sight of anything more after all that lunch," said Dick. "Beside, there isn't any feed about here." Somebody suggested that Bob Trotter had brought some hay and corn for his horses. Dick proposed that Julius should go for some. Julius proposed that Dick should go. Valentine offered to bring it, and brought it— some corn in a basket. "Suke! Suke, Bossy! Suke, Bossy! Suke!" Dick yelled as though the cow had been two hundred feet off instead of ten. He held out the basket. She came forward, sniffed at the corn, threw up her lip and took a bite. Dick set the basket under her nose and hastened to put himself in milking position. But that was the end of it. He could not milk a drop. [Page 518] "I can't get the hang of the thing," he said. "Let me try," said Kit. Dick gave way, and Kit pulled and squeezed and tugged and twisted, while the others shouted with laughter. 'I BELIEVE SHE'S GONE DRY,' SAID KIT. "I believe she's gone dry," said Kit, very red in the face. At this the laughers laughed anew. "Some of you who are so good at laughing had better try." Kit set the cup on a stump and retired. Sarah Ketchum tried to persuade everybody else to try, but the other boys were afraid of failure and the girls were afraid of the cow. Sarah said if somebody would hold the animal's head so that it couldn't hook, she'd milk—she knew she could. But nobody offered to take the cow by the horns; so everything came to a stand- still except Sarah's talking and the cow's eating. Then Bob Trotter came in sight, all his pockets standing out with nuts. They called him. Sarah Ketchum explained the situation and asked him if he could milk. "I do the milkin' at 'ome," Bob replied. "Wont you please milk this cow for us? We don't know how, and we want the milk for dinner." There came a comical look into Bob's face, but he said nothing. The eight knew what his thoughts must be. "We oughtn't to have said that you couldn't have any of our lunch," said Sarah Ketchum. "We didn't really mean it," said Clara. "When lunch-time came we would have given you lots of good things." "That's so," said Dick. "Sarah told us an hour ago that she meant to give you her snow-ball cake because she felt compuncted." By this time Bob had approached the cow. He spoke some kind words close to her broad ear, and gently stroked her back and flanks. Then he set to work in the proper way, forcing the milk in streams into the cup, the boys watching with admiration Bob's ease and expertness, Dick wondering why he couldn't do what seemed so easy. In a few seconds the cup was filled. "Now, what're you going to do?" said Bob. "This wont be a taste around." "You might milk into our hats," said Julius. "I've got a thimble in my pocket," said Sarah Ketchum. "Do stop your nonsense," said Constance; "it's a very serious question—a life and death matter. We're a company of Crusoes." But the boys couldn't stop their nonsense immediately. Dick remarked that if the cow had not licked out the jelly-bowl and then kicked it to pieces it might have been utilized. Then some one remembered a tin water- pail at the wagon. This was brought, and Bob soon had it two-thirds filled with milk. Then the question arose as to how they were all to be served with just that quart-cup and two spoons. They were to take turns, two eating at a time. "I don't want to eat with Jule," Dick said. "He eats too fast." The young people paired off, leaving out Bob. Then they all looked at him in a shame-faced, apologetic way. "You needn't mind me," said Bob, interpreting their glances. "I don't want to heat with none of you. I've got some wittals down to the wagon." "Why, what have you got?" said Sarah Ketchum. She felt cheap, and so did the others. "Some boiled heggs and some happles and some raw turnups," said Bob. Eight mouths watered at this catalogue. Sarah Ketchum whispered: "For a generous slice of turnip, I'd lay me down and die." "I don't keer for nothing but a hegg and a happle, myself," said Bob. "May be you folks would heat the hother things. There's a good lot of happles." The eight protested that they could do with the milk and bread, but urged the milk on Bob. "No, I thank you," he said. "He's mad at us yet," Mat whispered. "Look here," said Sarah Ketchum to Bob, "if you don't eat some of this milk, none of us will. We'll give it to the cow." "No, we won't do that," Julius said: "we'll hold you and make you drink it. If you have more apples than you wish, we'll be glad of some; but we aren't going to take them unless you'll take your share of the milk." "And we'll get mad at you again," said Clara. "I'll drink hall the milk necessary to a make-hup," said Bob. When the lunch was eaten, Mat said she didn't think they ought to have milked the cow. The folks would be so disappointed when they came to milk her at night. May be a lot of poor children were depending on the milking for their supper. Val, too, showed that his conscience was disturbed. "You needn't worry," said Dick. "They'll get this milk back from the lunch she stole." "But they couldn't help her stealing." "And I couldn't help milking her," said Dick. At this there was a burst of laughter. Then Mat wrote on a scrap of paper: "This cow has been milked to save some boys and girls from starvation. The owner can get pay for the milk by calling at Mr. Snead's, Poplar street, Budville." "Who'll tie it on her tail?" asked Mat. "I will," said Val, promptly, glad to ease his conscience. And this he did with a piece of blue ribbon from Mat Snead's hat. [Page 519] MRS. PETER PIPER'S PICKLES. BY E. MÜLLER. HERE'S nothing in that bush," said one old crow to another old crow, as they flew slowly along the beach. "No, nothing worth looking at," answered the other old crow, and then they alighted on a dead tree and complained that the egg season was over. That was because they were fond of sandpipers' eggs, and there were none in that bush. No eggs were there, to be sure, but there sat Mrs. Peter Sandpiper, talking to two fine young sandpipers, just hatched. "Nothing worth looking at!" said she, indignantly. "Well, anything but a crow would have more sense! Nothing in this bush, indeed! Pe-tweet, pe-tweet!" And truly she might well be angry at any one snubbing those young ones of hers. Their eyes were so bright, their legs were so slim, and their beaks so sharp that it was delightful to see them. And they turned out their toes so gracefully that, the first time they went to the sea to bathe, everyone said Mrs. Peter Sandpiper had reason to be proud of her children. But just as soon as they could run they got into all sorts of troubles, and vexed Mrs. Sandpiper out of her wits. "THEY TURNED OUT THEIR TOES SO GRACEFULLY." "Such a pair of young pickles I never hatched before!" said she to Mrs. Kingfisher, who came to gossip one day. "Well, well, my dear," said Mrs. Kingfisher, "boys will be boys; by the time they are grown up they will be all right. Now, my dear Pinlegs was just such—" But Mrs. Sandpiper had to fly off, to see what Pipsy Sandpiper was doing, and keep Nipsy Sandpiper from swallowing a June beetle twice too big for him. They were great trials. They were always eating the wrong kind of bugs, and having indigestion and headaches. They were forever getting their legs tangled up in long wet grass, and screaming for Mrs. Peter Sandpiper to come help them out, and at night they chirped in their sleep and disturbed Mrs. Sandpiper dreadfully by kicking each other. At last she said she could stand it no longer; they must take care of themselves. So she cried "Pe-tweet, good-by," and then she flew away, leaving Pipsy and Nipsy alone by the sea to take care of themselves. It was quite a trouble at first, for Mamma Sandpiper had always helped them to bugs and worms, one apiece, turn about, so all was fair. But now Pipsy always wanted the best of everything, and Nipsy, being good tempered, had to eat what his brother left. One day bugs were very scarce, and both little Sandpipers were so hungry that they could have eaten a whole starfish—if he had come out of his shelter. Suddenly Nipsy, who was a trifle near sighted, said he saw a large beetle coming along the beach. They ran quickly to meet it. But what in the world was it! It had legs; oh, such legs! They were larger than Pipsy's and Nipsy's put together. Its back was like a huge shell, and its eyes were dreadful. The little sandpipers looked at each [Page 520] [Page 521] TANGLED IN THE LONG GRASS other in terror. But a mild little voice from the creature relieved them. "I beg your pardon," said he. "Let me introduce myself. C. Crab, Esq., of Oyster Bay." "Oh, ah! Indeed!" said Pipsy. "Glad to know you, I'm sure." "I think I must have lost my way," said C. Crab, Esq. "Could you oblige me by telling me if you see any boys near?" "Any boys?" said Pipsy and Nipsy, looking at each other. "Never saw one in my life. What do they look like? Have they many legs? Are they fat? Are they good to eat?" asked both the hungry little sandpipers. "They are creatures," said the crab, with a groan,—"creatures a thousand times larger than we are. They have strings. They tie up legs and pull. They throw stones. If you ever see a boy, run for your life." "Good gracious me!" cried both the little sandpipers. "How very dreadful!" But there were no boys in sight; so C. Crab grew sociable, and offered to show them a place where bugs were plenty. "Just get on my back," said he, "and I'll have you there in no time." "OH, MY! HE'S GOING BACKWARDS!" So they got on his back. It was very wet and slippery, but they held on with their toes, while C. Crab gave himself a heave and started. "Oh, my!" exclaimed Nipsy. "He's going backward!" "He actually is!" cried Pipsy. "At this rate we'll get there day before yesterday, wont we?" "Surely," said Nipsy. "How very horrid of him when we are so hungry! What a slow coach!" "Let's jump off quick, or he'll take us clear into last week!" cried the silly sandpipers, and then they skipped off and ran down the beach in the opposite direction. C. Crab called to them, but it was no use, so he went on his way. But as for the sandpipers, they went on getting into trouble. The day was hot, and after they had run some distance, they stepped into the water to cool off. Nipsy stepped in first, but the water was up to his breast and it frightened him, so he stepped out again. "Pooh!" said Pipsy. "You're afraid, YOU are! Look at me!" Then he jumped in, and only his head stuck out. [Page 522] "THIS IS TWICE AS DEEP AS YOU WERE IN." "This is twice as deep as you were in!" he cried, turning up his bill, and rolling his eyes. "You're sitting down, you are!" cried Nipsy, in scorn. "I'm not," said Pipsy. "You are. I can see your toes all doubled up, even if the water is muddy," said Nipsy, and rushed at him to punish him for bragging. They both rolled under the water, and then out on the shore, dripping wet and very angry with each other. Pipsy went home to the old bush and was very miserable. He wanted something to eat, and did not know where to find anything. Nipsy went high up the beach, and found a lot of young hedge-crickets. But he did not half enjoy them. They were fat and smooth, and he was hungry, but crickets had no flavor without Pipsy to help eat them. But he was angry at him yet. "He must come to me," he said, sternly, to the cricket he was eating. "THERE, IN THE TWILIGHT, HE SAW A LONELY FIGURE STANDING ON ONE LEG." The cricket said nothing, being half-way down his throat, and pretty soon Nipsy could stand his feelings no longer. Catching up the largest, smoothest, softest cricket, he ran down to the shore as fast as his legs could carry him. There, in the twilight, he saw a lonely figure standing on one leg. "Pipsy!" he cried. "Nipsy!" cried Pipsy.