CHAPTER XII.

ON THE “CALF’S” BACK.

Let us take advantage of this lapse of time to go back a little and see what had become of Olly Burdeen.

The salt water and the barnacles told but too true a tale: he had been thrown upon the lesser rock, which the next tide would submerge.

If he had still any doubt of that terrible fact, it must have been dispelled when the moon rose amid broken clouds and showed him the “Calf’s tail” churning the waves at the end of his surf-fringed reef; also the glimmering back of the “Old Cow,” with its encircling surge, a furlong or more to the south.

An old, sad moon it was, with a distorted, melancholy face peering above the illimitable desolation of waters; yet a welcome sight to the drenched and shivering castaway, waiting on his lonely ledge for the tide to return and cover it. No wonder it appeared to him not the cheerful orb he knew, but some ancient, decayed satellite coming to look for the last time on a lost world!

After his long labor with his rude paddle, and the effort it had cost to swim to the rock and scramble out upon it, he was nearly exhausted; and the discovery of barnacles in the pool had quenched what remained of his courage. There was no shelter from the wind; and in his wet clothes he felt a deadly chill striking to his bones.

Then followed another discovery, which did not tend to restore his spirits.

He had from the first given up the boat as lost. It had disappeared in the dark and turbulent water almost as soon as he left it; nor could he see anything of it afterward.

It was an old dory that had been hired for the season by one of Mrs. Murcher’s boarders. Olly had taken that, too, without leave; but it was the custom on the coast for people to make rather free use of any boats that came in their way. With it had gone his sole means of escape from certain death; otherwise he would have cared little for the loss.

In his fearful anxiety about his own safety, he had thought little even of the safety of the watch. He hated the recollection of it; for, probably, if it had not been for that, it might never have occurred to him to row out from shore in order to get a sight of the returning yacht, around the point.

After the moon rose, he looked across the tumbling billows at the “Old Cow” wallowing in their froth, and felt that his salvation lay in reaching that before the rising tide should sweep him from the “Calf.” Yet, how was that possible? The very thought of swimming so far, alone in the night, in the wild ocean, was frightful to him. Yet as a last resort he might be driven to make so desperate an attempt.

As for the water, it could hardly seem colder than the wind that pierced his drenched clothes. He no longer thought of any injury to them—the stylish suit that had been a delight to his soul a few hours before! He wept with despair as he thought of the joy that had turned to such bitter woe; and he wished he had never seen the giver or his gift.

Salt water might ruin the watch; but, if so, that was probably ruined already. At all events, it was past being returned to its case in Mr. Hatville’s room, without that gentleman’s knowledge of its having been removed.

Past, indeed! Thinking of it, Olly put up his hand to his pocket. It gave him a start of fresh terror, even in his utter misery and wretchedness, to find it empty.

The watch was gone! That was his last disheartening discovery.

How long it had been gone he had not the slightest means of knowing. His teeth chattered, and he trembled from head to foot, as he hurriedly searched his clothing for the timepiece, but in vain.

He at first believed that he had lost it in his struggle between the boat and the ledge; for he remembered having looked down and seen the golden glitter of the seal, not long after he went adrift. But now the moonlight disclosed the seal still hanging by the hook in his button-hole. The guard had been broken, and everything, excepting the seal and a few dangling links, had gone with the watch.

He concluded that he must have lost it when he had his first tumble in the boat. The oar, when it struck his breast, and flew from his hand, had doubtless caught in the chain, and snatched the watch from his pocket. Of course he couldn’t know that this was so; but if he had foreseen what Perce Bucklin was to find on the beach a few hours later, he would have argued that no watch could have been conveyed so far, in so short a time, by waves or tide.

However it might have happened, it was hopelessly gone; and now, in his enfeebled, frightened state, he began to consider how he should escape the suspicion of having stolen it, if ever his body reached the shore alive or dead.

“Nobody knows I had it,” he said miserably to himself. “And why should anybody ever know?”

He unhooked what was left of the guard, and held it, with the seal, for a moment in his shaking fingers, considering whether he should destroy that evidence against him by flinging it into the sea.

But he could hardly make up his mind to cast away irrevocably what might prove of value, should the watch and the rest of the guard be found. That might still be possible, he reasoned; and, after a few minutes of sickening doubt and hesitation, he put the shining trinkets into his pocket. Even as he did so, he went about mechanically searching for what he had hardly the faintest expectation of finding. Who that has ever lost a prized object has not done the same?—looking again and again in places where a superstitious hope whispers that it may be mysteriously lurking.

He felt sure that it could not, without his knowledge, have dropped from his pocket when he had stooped over the pool to grope for barnacles; and even if it had, the moonlight must show so bright an object shining in the shallow bottom. Yet he explored it carefully with his hands, and went back and explored it again, after examining other parts of the ledge.

But why be so anxious about the watch, when he was in despair of saving his own life? He said that to himself, as he searched every crevice and hollow of the slope where he had crawled out of the sea.

It was fortunate that he had something thus to engage his wretched thoughts and benumbed hands. And a still better employment awaited him.

He had some time before he heard a strange thumping and grinding sound, which he supposed must be caused by the motion of the “Calf’s tail.”

The hunt for the watch had kept him from investigating it. But now that very search led him to make a different, but even more welcome discovery.

The side where he had landed was in shadow. As he followed it around, just out of reach of the waves, he saw to his great joy something rising and falling in the black seaweed that grew below the gray girdle of barnacles, and bumping on the reef. It was his boat, which the wind had blown against the little island, and lodged not far from the “Calf’s tail.”

It was lying on its side, and a heave of the sea threw up the dark gunwale into the moonlight that slanted across the surf-vexed end of the island. As the wave drew back, sucking heavily along with it the somber fringe of rockweed, Olly stepped cautiously down on this slippery footing, and, seizing the rail of the dory, held it fast. Then with the next swell he lifted the end upon the barnacled rocks and held it again, while its heavy freight of water spilled out over the side into the sea.

Getting hold of the painter, he now had the boat safe, and, by a little management, he was able to haul it higher up the slope and tip the rest of the water out. The exertion warmed him, and success gave him new courage.

True, he had no oars, and the thwart he had used for a paddle was lost. But there was a second thwart which he could detach. The dory appeared little the worse for the rough usage it had received, and he did not doubt but it would prove seaworthy when it should become necessary for him to intrust his life to it, in escaping from the rock.

That might be some time yet, for it was now low water. With the turning of the tide, the wind might change or go down; and it would probably be near daylight before the “Calf” would be submerged.

“The trouble will be,” he reflected, “to get the dory upon that highest part.”

That was something more for him to do. He worked it along inch by inch, pulling seaweed from the rocks to put under it in order to make it slide easily over the barnacles.

But this device came near causing him a sad accident. Once, when he released his hold of the boat to take breath after violently lifting, it broke away from him and started back down the descent, which the seaweed he had placed there made slippery. He sprang to seize the painter, which was dragging on the rocks, but it pulled him after, and boy and boat barely escaped plunging together into the brine.

As it was, though, he arrested its progress just as it struck a billow. He was compelled once more to tip it over—for he had no other means of getting the water out—and then to perform over again the labor of lifting it up the ledge.

But this was, perhaps, a fortunate accident, since it kept him in exercise until he felt that his clothes were getting dry. And it showed him, besides, the danger that would attend the final launching of the dory.

(_To be continued._)

REGATTA.

A GAME FOR THE LAWN OR PARLOR.

BY FRANK BELLEW.

Perhaps you have never heard of a yacht-race ashore, yet that term might almost be applied to this picturesque game, which will be found not only exciting, but a source of great fun. It can be played out-of-doors on the lawn or in a large room.

Two players are required for each “yacht”—the “captain,” who directs the course of the vessel, and the “crew,” who carries the boat in his cap or “helmet,” and obeys the orders of the captain.

To play the game, it is first necessary to lay out the “course” on the lawn or the floor, which represents the sheet of water that is to be the scene of the regatta. Any convenient objects can be taken for the “stake-boats” and “turning-buoy,” and the course can be made as difficult as desired by placing obstacles, such as chairs, boxes, or cushions, in the way, to represent “rocks,” “reefs,” “shoals,” and “islands.” The crews that are to compete are first allowed to sail over the course to inspect it, and are then drawn up in line at the start, where each puts on his “yacht-rig,” and is carefully blindfolded by the captain of a rival yacht. At the “first gun,” or signal to make ready, each crew turns around three times. At the “second gun,” or signal to start, they all proceed, under command of their respective captains, to go over the course, keeping always in “deep water” and avoiding the reefs and other obstacles, around the turning-buoy, and back to the starting-point. The yacht which is the first to come in wins the race.

A captain must always address his crew by the name of his yacht, and must give his orders in nautical terms. If he fail to do so, his yacht must stop, and turn once around before going on. The same penalty is exacted if the crew does not understand an order and asks for an explanation; and also whenever, through the unskillful management of the captain or the poor sailing of the crew, the yacht runs into any of the obstacles or into one of the other yachts.

Of course, unless the players know how to sail real boats, the orders will often be very ridiculous; but as long as they are given in nautical language, and the crew understands what they mean, it makes no difference, except to add to the fun.

For instance, let us imagine the Genesta to be racing the Puritan. The orders might sound something like this:

“Steady, Genesta, steady!” from the captain of the English cutter.

“Keep her off about two points to starboard, Puritan—steady!” from the American skipper.

But such a command as “Hard a-port, Genesta—no, no, the other way, you goose!” would compel the captain of that craft to stop his yacht and make it turn once around; while, if on receiving the order, “Shake out a reef, Puritan, and head her nor’-nor’east!” the crew should ask, “Oh, I say, Billy, what do you mean by ‘shake out a reef’?” or “‘Which direction is nor’-nor’east’?” then the Puritan would have to stop and turn around. And if the captain of the Genesta, wishing to take advantage of his rival’s set-back, should exclaim, “Now, Sam, let her go!” the English boat would have to pay the same penalty.

Many modifications of this game will naturally suggest themselves to those who understand sailing. The sport can be made much more difficult and interesting by supposing the wind to blow directly up the course, so that the yachts will have to beat down to the turning-buoy and then come home before the wind. When the game is played out-of-doors and there is a breeze blowing, a great deal of skill and ingenuity can be exercised in keeping the yachts in the courses they would have to take if they were actually propelled by the wind.

The nattiest yacht-rig is made of a square piece of cardboard that will go just around the head of the crew. The two edges are then stitched together to form a “helmet,” like a high hat without crown or brim. Two notches should be cut in the top of the helmet, as shown in Fig. 1, to receive the hull of a small toy yacht, such as can be bought cheaply at any toy shop. The yacht is held in place by lashings passing through holes made in the helmet. Strings should be fastened to the sides of the helmet to tie under the chin, and a curtain of some thick, close material may be sewed on in front, as a blindfold. The cardboard should be colored blue to represent waves; but the curtain, flags, and strings should be of some distinctive tint, so that each vessel can sail under its own colors.

A simpler form of yacht-rig (Fig. 2) consists of a roll of cloth about twenty inches long, the ends of which are sewed together, forming a ring-shaped pad to rest upon the head. The yacht, a home-made affair, cut out of a shingle or a piece of board, is fastened upon the pad. This helmet also has the blindfold, and strings to tie under the chin. A third style of helmet (Fig. 3) was once formed by scooping out the end of a watermelon to fit the crew’s head, and rigging it up with a twig mast and a brown-paper sail. It was cheap, ingenious, and uncomfortable, and is not recommended. There is a fourth and entirely different rig, which consists in fastening the sails directly to the crew’s body. (See Fig. 4.) The spars—boom, sprit, and bowsprit—are of wood, shaped as in A, and are fastened to the body by strings run through holes in the broad ends. The sails should be attached to the spars as in real boats. A small flagstaff in the front of the cap bears the pennant, and completes the rig.

[Illustration]

For the benefit of those who are not familiar with sea terms, a few of the more common directions used in this game of Regatta are here given with their explanations:

“Port” means the left side of the yacht. “Starboard” means the right side. To “luff” means to bring the yacht so that it will point more toward the direction from which the wind is blowing. To “luff a-lee” is to point the yacht directly at the wind, in the “wind’s eye.” To “tack” is to change the course of the yacht so that it receives the wind on the other side. The maneuver is accomplished by “luffing a-lee,” and keeping on until the yacht presents its other side to the wind. To “fall off” is the opposite of to “luff.” Experienced yachtsmen will know and use many other terms, but these are sufficient for conducting a game. Stories and books about the sea will suggest other useful words, and any one who plays the game often will soon gain an ample vocabulary.

[Illustration: THE SEA-URCHIN]

There once was an Untaught Sea-Urchin, Who said that for years he’d been searchin’ For a place in the sea Where he quiet could be, For the waves kept him pitchin’ and lurchin’.

A NEW THEORY.

BY BESSIE CHANDLER.

At the telegraph poles Grace was looking, When she solemnly said: “I think Those little glass things are the bottles That hold all the telegraph ink.”

WORK AND PLAY FOR YOUNG FOLK.—XV.

A ROPE YARN SPUN BY AN OLD SAILOR.

BY C. W. MILLER.

There are many things you boys can do with a rope, if you only know how. Let an old sailor spin you a “yarn” or two.

I. SPLICES.

If you wish to put up a swing, to make a lasso, to fasten a rope to your sled, or if you live on a farm and desire to make a halter or a hay-rope, you should know how to make an “eye-splice.”

The tools you will need are a hammer and a marline-spike. A sailor’s marline-spike is made of iron, and is about six inches long, like that in Fig. 1; but you can easily whittle from a bit of any hard wood a peg that will answer the purpose of a marline-spike.

To begin the splice, take a small rope, like a clothes-line (if possible, a new one in which the strands are unworn), and first untwist, or, as we sailors say, unlay, about four inches of it. Then wind thread tightly around the end of each strand to keep it in shape. Next bend the rope around into a loop of any size desired, letting the loose strands or cords cross on the upper side and project beyond the rope. Be sure that, as you hold the loop toward you, the rope bends toward the right.

[Illustration: FIG. 1.—MARLINE-SPIKE AND EYE-SPLICE.]

At the point of crossing, twist the solid or “standing” part of the rope the wrong way, so as to open it a little, and thrust the spike in between the strands, pushing it in until the strands are well apart. Now draw the spike out and put the end of the first loose strand into the enlarged opening. To do this easily you should insert the spike with its point toward the loose ends, so that, as you draw it out, you can follow it closely with the first end before the separated strands close. Draw the end up tight, as shown in the cut. Then take the spike and separate the next strand in the rope from the others, and insert the second loose end in the same way, and similarly place the third end under the third strand of the rope. At this stage, your splice will look like Fig. 1, and a little study of that diagram will show you, better than I can tell you, just how to insert the strands.

Continue the work, by passing the first end over one strand and under the next, and do the same with the second and third ends.

When each end has been woven in twice, take off the thread from the ends and cut about a third from the under side of each one, making it that much thinner than before. Bind the ends again with the thread, and weave each one under another strand of the rope. Again take off the thread and cut off half of what remains from the under side of each of the loose ends; replace the thread, weave under again, draw each end up tightly, and cut it off close to the rope. If you have carefully followed the directions, each end will pass over and under the strands alternately, and no two ends next each other will pass under the same strand.

You must always remember, in working with a rope, to twist every strand hard and tight, and to draw it snugly to place. And in making a splice, the rope should be pounded frequently with the hammer or a piece of wood, and rolled back and forth under your foot. This operation makes the strands sink into one another and look smooth and even.

Another splice, quite as useful as the one just described, is that by which the ends of two ropes are joined so firmly that they form one continuous rope. There are two forms of it, one called the “short splice,” and the other the “long splice.”

The short splice, is more often used, because it is quickly made, it does not waste much of the rope, and it is nearly as strong as the long splice. There is one objection to it: It makes part of the rope somewhat larger than the rest, so that it can not be run through a narrow pulley-block. The long splice, on the other hand, though using much more material, may be made without increasing the size of the rope at any point, and is, in fact, somewhat stronger.

To make the short splice, first untwist about eight inches of each of the two ends you wish to join, and bring them together in such a way that the ends of the untwisted parts are squarely and closely against each other as though they were one rope, while the six loose strands stand out all around, each one of the right-hand strands being between two of those on the left hand, or interlocked.

Now what you are to do is to weave the loosened strands of the right-hand rope into the untwisted rope of the left side, and the loosened strands of that rope into the solid part of the right-hand rope. To hold the two ends in place while you work, begin by drawing all three of the left-hand strands down over the right-hand rope, and tie them there with a piece of cord.

[Illustration: FIG. 2.—A SHORT SPLICE.]

Now weave the three loose strands into the solid rope by the help of the spike, just as you did in making the eye-splice. When you have finished this side, untie the twine and weave the loose strands into the left-hand rope in the same manner. The directions given for making the eye-splice apply also to this splice. It must be well pounded and twisted back and forth until the ends work into the strands and it is smooth and firm; and this splice, too, will look better if part of the rope-yarns are cut off before weaving in the last time, but if you are not particular you may cut the ends off just as they are left in Fig. 2. To help you to see how the ends go under and over the strands of the rope, each one is marked in Fig. 2 with a different line of dots and dashes, and, by following any one line, you will learn exactly where that one strand passes in and out.

[Illustration: FIG. 3.—A LONG SPLICE, FIRST STAGE.]

The long splice, though a little more trouble than the short splice, makes a much neater joining. For this splice, you must untwist three feet of one end of each rope and bring the two closely together as in making a short splice, with the loose ends interlocked. Next take one of the strands of the right-hand side and untwist it, or separate it from the rope an inch or two, and into the space it leaves vacant “lay” one of the loose ends from the other side. (By “laying” I mean twisting the strand tightly and pressing it into place.) Go on in this way, untwisting the strand from one side and laying in its place the strand from the other side, until the latter has only about eight inches free, while the one you have been untwisting has nearly six feet free. What you have now done is merely replacing a strand belonging to one rope by a strand from the other. Do the same thing on the other side; that is, untwist one of the strands of the left-hand rope and twist into its place a loose strand from the right-hand rope. When you have done this, your splice will look like Fig. 3, the six untwisted strands ending in pairs in three places. The pair in the middle will be three feet long each; while at the ends there will be one long and one short strand, although, as seen in Fig. 3, they all must be cut off short for the next operation.

[Illustration: FIG. 4.—A LONG SPLICE FINISHED.]

This consists in weaving the ends in, and it is done by forcing the spike under the strand next to the end you wish to weave in, passing the end through the opening, then over the next strand, and under the third, which you have opened in the same way. Now cut off a portion from the under side of the strand, pass it over and under once more, and cut off closely. Repeat this with the second strand of the pair, and your joining will look like Fig. 4, which represents a long splice finished. This figure, of course, shows only one woven-in end, the other being on the opposite side.

Having thus disposed of one pair of the loose ends, treat the other two pairs in the same way. Notice that the strands are nowhere turned back on themselves, but that they always work on in the same way they started; that is, those which turned out from the middle turn out to the end, while those that turned toward the middle (or those you untwisted to make place for the others) still turn toward the center, as they began.

II. SENNIT, OR BRAID.

The first thing a boy learns when he goes to sea is to make braid, or, in sailors’ talk, “sennit,” and I think land boys will find it very convenient to know a few of the different kinds in use. All boys wish to make whip-lashes or to swing hammocks; and for those of you who own sail-boats, or even row-boats, there are endless uses for these braids. Fenders to protect the sides of boats from injury are best made from a short, thick piece of sennit; and many boats have a guard, made of about seven large strands, like Fig. 5, running all around just under the gunwale.

[Illustration: FIG 5.—THE SIMPLEST KIND OF SENNIT.]

On a ship these braids are used to wrap around parts of the rigging, to keep them from chafing, so they are called “chafing-gear.” And the sailors make it by the barrelful, so that it will be on hand when needed.

In beginning a braid, tie a string around one end of the strands and fasten it to any convenient object, such as a hook in the wall or a door-knob, in order to keep the braid taut, as it is very important to draw the strands up snug and even every time. The simplest kind of sennit may be made of any uneven number of strands. It is shown in Fig. 5.

To begin, take five strands and separate them, holding three in the right hand and two in the left. First take the outside strand of the three in the right hand, pass it over the two next it, and lay it inside the two in the left hand. Now you have three in the left hand. Then take the outside strand of the three in the left hand, pass it over the two next it, and lay it inside of the two in the right hand. So you go on, always taking the outside strand from the side which has three together, passing it over its two neighbors, and laying it inside the two in the other hand. It is very easy, you see, and you will soon have a piece like that in the figure, in which the outside strand from the left side has just been laid over inside of the right. You can make this kind of braid of any uneven number of strands, and the only rule is always to bring the one from the outside of the greater number over all its neighbors to the inside of the smaller number.

[Illustration: FIG. 6.—A ROUND SENNIT.]

To make a whip-lash, you should try a braid like that shown in Fig. 6, which is a round sennit. The one in the drawing is made of large round strands to show the braid better; but for a lash you should take flat strips of leather, and taper them to make your lash the proper shape.

This braid is made of four strands. Take two in each hand, pass the outside strand in the right hand under its neighbor and also under the inside strand in the left hand. Bring it up between the two in the left, and lay it over the inside strand next to it, placing it at last beside the one strand in the right hand, only inside of it instead of outside, where it was first. Do the same with the outside strand of the left hand; that is, pass it under the one next to it and the inside one of the right hand, bringing it up between the two in the right, turning it over the inside one, and laying it next to the one remaining in the left hand, on the inside. Keep on doing this and you will notice that the same two strands always stay in the same hand, but each turn of one interlocks it through the two in the other hand.

In Fig. 6 the outside strand on the right side has just been passed under and up between the two on the left side, over the inside one of the left and beside the strand on the right.

This method of braiding is pretty to use in covering many things, round, square, or tapering. Even a turned vase and many articles of varying shape may be covered by it. Where the object is wide the strands cross each other at a wide angle, and where narrow, run more nearly parallel to the object, but in every case it is covered. Some very pretty things are made with this braid.

For a flat braid, which, when made of rope-yarns or cord, is very nice for a dog or goat harness, you will need the “French” sennit shown in Fig. 7. At sea, it is sometimes made eight or ten inches wide, and half an inch thick; but you will not need it so heavy. To begin, take nine strands as in the figure, though it may be made of any other number.

[Illustration: FIG. 7.—THE FRENCH SENNIT.]

First spread the strands out flat, take the middle one (in this case, No. 5), bend it to the right and over No. 4, which is bent to the left. Take No. 6, bend it to the right, and under No. 4. Take No. 3, bend it to the left, over No. 5, and under No. 6. Take No. 7, bend it to the right, over No. 4, and under No. 3. Take No. 2, bend to the left, under No. 5, over No. 6, and under No. 7. Continue in this way until all the strands are in. Then take No. 5, which, you remember, was bent to the right, and now occupies the outside place on that side, bend it up and over No. 6, which is next it, and then braid it in alternately over and under just as before. Braid in the outside strand from the left side in the same manner. Go on in this way, and the braid will look like Fig. 7. So many directions make it seem hard; but when you try it with the figure before you, you will find it very easy. If the braid is made from an even number of strands, as in Fig. 8, the strands will begin on both sides by turning over; but if the number is uneven, as in Fig. 7, the strands on one side will begin by turning under.

Be careful to draw the strands even and snug. This braid has one great advantage over others. It may be split into two or more narrower braids, as you see in Fig. 8, and afterward braided together again, leaving an open loop, or a sort of button-hole. A glance at Fig. 8 will show you just how this is accomplished, and that it is an easy task.

[Illustration: FIG. 8.]

In a navy hammock, the cords which support the body are woven into a flat braid which starts with two or three strands and has the others gradually woven in, two at a time, one on each side. This finishes it off very neatly, and keeps the cords from tangling, and is a great improvement on simply putting the cords through the ring, which has a bungling appearance, as they are generally in a snarl. This braid may be more easily made by “putting the cart before the horse”; that is, by beginning at what is apparently the wrong end. Take the cords double length, and draw them all through the ring, until half the length is on each side. There will be twice as many strands as you had cords. Begin a flat braid, as in Fig. 8, until all the strands are woven in. If there are twelve, you then leave out the outside strand on each side and continue the braid with ten; leave out two again, and continue with the middle eight; and so on until you have but two left. Tie these firmly together, and the braid will not work loose.

[Illustration: FIG. 9.]

The queer-looking flat open-work braid shown in Fig. 9 is much used at sea, but it is hard to make of anything but tarred hemp rope-yarns, because it always inclines to loosen. The tarred rope does not slip like ordinary cord. In this braid, the strands do not cross the braid, but each one simply locks into its neighbor. To make it, you twist the first strand around the second, the second around the third, the third around the fourth, and so on across the braid. In the figure, the first has been twisted around the second, and the second is ready to twist around the third.

These braids can be easily learned by following the descriptions, and by referring to the cuts. Girls may use them in many ways; that shown in Fig. 5 is pretty for the hair. But I need not point out the various uses to which they may be put, for I am sure you all will discover them for yourselves.

III. THE “MADERWOCKER.”

This object bears no relation to the famous Jabberwock; in fact, it is simply a knot in common use among sailors; and the mysterious-sounding name is merely a very bad way of pronouncing “Matthew Walker.” Matthew Walker was an inventor, and, though his name has become gibberish, his knot is as good as ever, and is a very useful one. Whenever a rope is put through a hole and held by a knot, there is the place for a maderwocker, one that is not clumsy, will hold fast, and never loosen. The boys can use it on sled-ropes, swings, rope handles to boxes, and in many other places.

[Illustration: FIG 10.—A SINGLE MADERWOCKER.]

To make it you must first untwist, or unlay, about six inches of one end of the rope, and tie a string firmly around it where the knot is to be. Now, hold the rope in your left hand with the untwisted ends standing up, take one strand and bend it downward and around the second. Do not draw it tight, but leave a loop. Next bend the second strand around the third, and the third around the first, bringing the third one up through the loop left in the first. Draw all the ends tight and snug, and the knot will look like Fig. 10, which is a “single maderwocker,” or “single wall.”

[Illustration: FIG. 11.—A CROWN.]

If this knot is not enough you may put a “crown” on it. Bend down the first end and leave a loop; bend the second over the first, the third over the second, and put the end through the loop left in the first. Draw all the ends down snug and cut them off, and you will have a neat and strong knot like Fig. 11. Perhaps you will understand this crown better by looking at the end of the braid, Fig. 13.

[Illustration: FIG. 12.—A DOUBLE MADERWOCKER.]

A “double maderwocker,” or “double wall,” is a variety of this knot, made in the same way, excepting that each strand passes around two others, instead of one, as in the single maderwocker. Thus, the first strand is bent down and around the second and third, the second around the third and first, and up through the loop of the first; the third around the first and second, and up through the loop of the second, which also has been left a little loose. Draw all snug and you have a larger knot than the single one. (See Fig. 12.) You can finish it either by putting a “crown” on it, as described before, or by binding the strands close to the knot and cutting off the ends.

[Illustration: FIG. 13]

A series of crowns makes a very pretty and useful round braid like Fig. 13. The one represented has but four strands, though you will notice that it looks as if it had eight. Any number of strands may be used for this, and it will always appear to have double the number it really has. To make it look even and smooth, you must always bend the strands down in the same way; that is, always bend them to the right or always to the left. Girls will find this pretty cord convenient for many things; made of fine silk braid, it is nice to hang a fan from the belt, or for other purposes. Made of heavier materials, boys, I am sure, will find use for it.

THE SAILOR BOY.

BY WALLACE E. MATHER.

[Illustration]

I knew a little youngster Who would a sailor be; He did not care for top or ball, For marbles, kites, or trinkets small,— He did not care for these at all, For he would go to sea.

The things he really cared for Were queer things such as these: Odd knots of rope, and bits of string, A marline-spike, a hammock ring, India ink, or anything That might a sailor please.

He liked to read of voyages, And navigators’ lore. “And I can tell you how,” he said, “To make a splice or a ‘Turk’s head,’ To hold the reel, or heave the lead, And—oh! a great deal more.”

And if perchance you missed him, When others were at play, You’d find him stowed in some odd nook, Off cruising in his sailor book With Frobisher or Captain Cook, In regions far away.

He has not gone from home as yet, To ship before the mast; But only wait and you shall see— Sailors are made from such as he; I’m very sure that he will be An Admiral at last.

[Illustration]

“Hi! Yi! What’s the matter with you?” “My! My! There’s a frog in my shoe! I just took ’em off to paddle, you know, In the beautiful lake where the pond lilies grow, And when I turned ’round, that frog, don’t you see? Sat up in my shoe and made faces at me. My! My! Oh, what shall I do?” “BLUP!” said the frog—and jumped out of the shoe.

[Illustration: “DO _YOU_ LIKE BUTTER, BOSSY?”]

JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.

[Illustration]

Try not to mind it, dearly beloveds. It is merely “the sensation caused by caloric, or the principle of heat, in excess; the bodily feeling experienced on exposure to the sun’s rays; the reverse of _cold_.” What is there to grumble about in so simple a thing as that? And yet that is all that makes these sunny days uncomfortable. Just fan yourselves with that fact, my dears. I’m assured you have the highest authority for it—a big, wise book named Webster.

And now that your thoughts are cooled and refreshed, you’re ready for this communication which the Little School-ma’am wishes to lay before you.

LONGFELLOW’S FIRST LETTER.

MY DEAR LITTLE SCHOOL-MA’AM: My mamma has found in a new book (the “Life of Henry W. Longfellow,” edited by his brother Samuel), a copy of the very first letter ever written by the poet. We reckoned his age, and found that he was six years and eleven months old when he wrote it. It interested my brother Kit and me so much that Mother said we could copy it for you to show the ST. NICHOLAS boys and girls. I think it was very nice in him to put his sister Ann in first, and Kit says I ought to explain that a billet was sometimes good to get.

This is the letter:

“PORTLAND, 1814.

“DEAR PAPA,—Ann wants a little Bible like little Betsey’s. Will you please buy her one, if you can find any in Boston. I have been to school all the week, and got only seven marks. I shall have a billet on Monday. I wish you to buy me a drum.

“HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.”

As some one may wish you to tell whether Henry got the drum or not, I think I’ll copy next a part of the father’s answer to the letter. He was in Boston at the time, and he wrote:

... “I have found a very pretty drum, with an eagle painted on it, but the man asks two dollars for it; and they do not let any vessels go from Boston to Portland now. But if I can find any opportunity to send it down, I shall buy it. And if I cannot, I shall buy something else which will please you as well. I am glad to hear that you have been a good boy at school, and are likely to get a billet. You must save all your billets till I get home.” ...

P. S.—What do you think my father says? He says Henry’s letter was pretty hard on Boston.

Your little friend and admirer,

DOROTHY G——.

THE WATER-SNAKE AS A FISHERMAN.

DEAR JACK: I once had some tame fish in a lake at the foot of my garden,—or, rather, some fish that came every afternoon about five o’clock to be fed. My children were in the habit of taking bread daily and throwing it into the lake for them to eat. The fish became so tame that they would eat out of our hands, and when a foot-fall was heard coming down the terrace that leads into the small flower-garden by the lakeside, the fish would rush through the water by hundreds, expecting their food. They were of many kinds,—from the large catfish, or bullpout, weighing three or four pounds, to the small minnow.

Once, while I was feeding them from my hand, a water-snake suddenly caught one of the fish by the head, and, as a snake always must do after catching his prey under water, he held the fish up out of the water for a moment while he took breath. I instantly caught the fish, and attempted to pull it out of the snake’s mouth, but the snake as quickly twisted his tail around a root under the water and resisted my attempt to deprive him of his expected dinner. With all the strength I could exert, I could neither pull the fish out of the snake’s mouth nor tear loose his hold upon the root.

While I continued to pull, I very soon found that the snake was beginning to swallow the fish, and was visibly sucking it in. Notwithstanding all my efforts to wrench it from his grasp, the fish gradually disappeared into the snake’s mouth until I felt my thumb and finger touch against the jaws of the reptile, and even then they were irresistibly pushed back until my grasp was only upon the tip end of the fish’s tail. Then the snake, with a sudden jerk, pulled it quite out of my hand and swam away. I was defeated, and the snake had gained the victory.

Yours truly,

H. E. S.

MORE ANIMAL WEATHER-PROPHETS.

It never rains but it pours! as I’ve often heard the Deacon say. We have lately been discussing the habits of some animal weather-prophets, but we have considered them one at a time. Now, lo and behold!—my young friend Ida G. Egerton sends me this letter and a newspaper extract, which describes a long list of such weather-prophets.

BOONVILLE, N. Y.

DEAR JACK: Seeing your readers are interested in living barometers, I thought I would send you this paper. From

IDA G. EGERTON.

“I do not know of any surer way of predicting the changes in the weather, says a correspondent, than by observing the habits of the snail. They do not drink, but they imbibe moisture during a rain, and exude it afterward. The snail is never seen abroad except before a rain, when you will see it climbing the bark of trees and getting on the leaves. The tree-snail, as it is called, two days before rain, will climb up the stems of plants, and if the rain is going to be a hard and long one, it gets on the sheltered side of a leaf, but if a short rain, on the outside. Then there are other species that before a rain are yellow in color, and after rain blue.

“Take the ants, too; have you ever noticed the activity they display before a storm—hurry, scurry, rushing hither and yon, as if they were letter-carriers making six trips a day, or expressmen behind time? Dogs grow sleepy and dull, and like to lie before a fire, as rain approaches; chickens pick up pebbles, fowls roll in the dust, flies sting and bite more viciously, frogs croak more clamorously, gnats assemble under trees, and horses display restlessness.

“When you see a swan flying before the wind, spiders crowding on a wall, toads coming out of their holes in unusual numbers in the evening, worms, slugs, and snails appearing, robin-redbreasts pecking at the windows, pigeons coming to the dovecotes earlier than usual, peacocks squalling at night, mice squeaking, or geese washing, you can put them down as rain-signs. Nearly all the animals have some way of telling the weather in advance. It may be that the altered condition of the atmosphere with regard to electricity, which generally accompanies changes of the weather, makes them feel disagreeable or pleasant. The fact that a cat licks herself before a storm is urged by some naturalists as proof of the special influences of electricity. Man is not so sensitive. Yet many persons feel listless before a storm, to say nothing of aggravated headaches, toothaches, and rheumatic pains.”

It appears, from this, that even boys and girls may sometimes be classed among the animal weather-prophets. But, as they seem to have a rather painful way of indicating storms, I hope none of you excel in prophesying.

A USEFUL BIRD WITH AN ARISTOCRATIC NAME.

WARWARSING, N. Y.

DEAR JACK: We were lately much interested in watching a family of Baltimore orioles that lived in a nest in a tree near our house. There were several young birds in the nest, that kept their father and mother busy all day long feeding them. The nest was rather small for its inmates, and some time ago a little bird fell out. Though the nest is about fifteen feet above the ground, it did not hurt itself. We saw it fall, and put it on a small tree near by, where its mother could see it. Afterward I climbed a ladder and put it in the nest. Then the mother bird arrived and hunted all over the small tree, trying to find it and give it something to eat, and seemed very anxious about it. It was a very pretty sight to watch her.

This oriole’s nest has been in the tree for some years. It hangs from one of the highest limbs, to which it is fastened by strong cords made from the material of which the nest is built. We are glad to have orioles about, for they feed the young birds with insects injurious to the garden and orchard. Insects seem to be their principal food; and I have seen them eat hornet’s eggs.

The name “oriole” is from the old French “oriol,” which is derived from the Latin “aureolus,” meaning golden. They are sometimes called “golden robins.” The orchard oriole, which we occasionally see, is of a pure yellow color, with stripes of black on its back, and is about the size of a canary-bird. The colors of the Baltimore oriole are orange and black. They are so called because orange and black were the colors of the coat of arms of Lord Baltimore, who was Governor of Maryland under King Charles I.

Respectfully,

NORMAN T. SAUNDERS.

A WISE HUMMING-BIRD.

Wisdom does not depend on size, as you all know, my dears. The ant and the bee, in fact, often seem to know more than some of the largest animals. The humming-bird, too, though the smallest of birds, is not lacking in intelligence. A friend of the Deacon tells a pleasant little story of one that was trying to secure the honey from a flower with a deep cup, and at the same time was plainly very tired. The flower grew near a porch where a family was sitting, and seeing the trouble of the bird, a young girl walked slowly toward him, holding out her finger. The tired bird looked sharply at her and then accepted the offered perch, alighted on the finger, and, when it was held close to the flower, returned to his work of honey-gathering. The girl stood quietly, and he used her finger as a resting-place till he had finished his meal, when he flew away home. A wise humming-bird that, say I,—and a wise girl, too.

THE PITCHER PLANT.

You were lately told in ST. NICHOLAS, I hear, about a curious lace-leaf that grows in a far-off corner of the world called Madagascar. Well, the Little School-ma’am asks me to show you now this picture of another queer plant, which, she says, is a near neighbor to the lace-leaf, for it is found in the marshes along the coast of Madagascar, and it is known as the pitcher plant.

[Illustration]

At the end of each leaf, which narrows to a mere stalk at the tip, it carries a little vegetable vase very like a pitcher with lid and all complete. And this curious cup is indeed a pitcher, given to the plant for the express purpose of keeping its leaves well supplied with moisture; for travelers report that they have frequently found quite a quantity of water in those queer little natural cups. Besides, they have big ears, so of course they’re little pitchers.

The Deacon says that, according to all accounts, Madagascar must be a sort of palace of the vegetable kingdom.

[Illustration: The Agassiz Association

SIXTY-FOURTH REPORT.]

A FINAL WORD ABOUT THE BADGE.

Since Mr. Hayward went out of business, Mr. N. M. Shepard, 85 Nassau street, N. Y., has consented to succeed him as our badge-manufacturer.

He is quite enthusiastic in the matter, and has designed some very pretty badges, which seem to us a decided improvement upon the styles shown in the hand-book. The scarf-pin and lace-pin are most attractive, because least noticeable,—which is a paradox.

For further information communicate with Mr. Shepard, whose address is given above.

A FRIENDLY WORD FROM PRINCE KRAPOTKINE.

It is a pleasant thought that even those men whose personal experience of sorrow has led them to take dark views of life in general can find in our Association something worthy their commendation—something to be built up, rather than destroyed. Would that we could extend our brotherly influence as widely as Prince Krapotkine suggests in the following extract from his article, “What Geography Ought To Be,” published in “The Nineteenth Century” for December, 1885:

“Another feature to be introduced in our schools ought to be mentioned here. I mean the exchange, between schools, of correspondence on geographical subjects and of their natural science collections. This feature, already introduced in several schools of the United States by the ‘Agassiz Association,’ can not be too warmly advocated. It is not enough to collect specimens of rocks, plants, and animals from its own limited regions. Each village school ought to have collections from everywhere; not only from all parts of its own country, but from Australia and Java, Siberia and the Argentine Republic. It can not purchase them, but it may have them—it can have them in exchange for its own collections, from schools scattered everywhere on the surface of the globe.

“Such is the great idea which presided at the creation of the ‘Agassiz Association’—an organization which has already seven thousand members and six hundred ‘Chapters,’ or sections.[5] The members of this Association are accustomed to study natural sciences in the field, amid nature itself; but they do not keep their treasures to themselves. They write to other branches of the Association; they exchange with them their observations, their ideas, their specimens of minerals, plants, and animals. They write about the scenery of Canada to friends in Texas. Their Swiss friends (for something similar exists also in Switzerland) send them the _Edelweiss_ of the Alps, and their English friends instruct them in the geology of England. Shall I add that in proportion as the existence of the Association becomes known, specialists, professors, and _amateur_-naturalists hasten to offer their services to their young friends for lecturing before them, for determining their specimens, or for climbing with them on the hills in geological and botanical excursions?... Is it necessary to insist on the benefits of the ‘Agassiz Association,’ or to show how it ought to be extended? The greatness of the idea of establishing a lively connection between all schools of the Earth is too clear. Everybody knows that it is sufficient to have a friend in a foreign country—be it Moscow or Java—to begin to take some interest in that country. A newspaper paragraph entitled ‘Moscow’ or ‘Java’ will thereafter attract his attention,—the more so if he is in a lively intercourse with his friend, if both pursue the same work and communicate to one another the results of their studies and explorations. More than that: Let English children be in a continuous exchange of correspondence, collections, and thoughts with Russian children, and you may be sure that after some time neither English nor Russians will so readily grasp at guns for settling their misunderstandings. The ‘Agassiz Association’ has a brilliant future; similar ones will surely extend all over the world.”

[5] “Hand-book of the Agassiz Association,” by Harlan H. Ballard. Lenox, Mass., 1884.

DELAYED REPORTS.

455, _Bedford, Pa._ Each member has his own cabinet. Our time has not been wasted by any means. It will not be long before we recommence our collecting expeditions and picnics.—W. C. Langdon, Jr., Sec.

447, _Chittenango, N.Y._ We have a very good collection, including rare insects. We intend soon to visit the Indian mound near Manlius, where we hope to make various additions to our collection. We shall raise 1000 silk-worms for study this summer.—C. A. Jenkins, Sec.

490, _New York_ (_N_). The year has been the most successful of our existence. We stand to-day strong in numbers, interest, and enthusiasm. We have held meetings steadily twice a month, and these have been enthusiastic and well attended. Our good friend, Professor J. D. Hyatt, has lectured for us, illustrating each lecture by blackboard diagrams and also by his powerful microscope. We have started a library, and a number of interesting and valuable books have been presented to us. We have issued a little paper called the “Naturalist’s Journal.” Our cabinet is assuming gigantic proportions, and embraces specimens in all lines of natural history, properly arranged and classified. We have a tabulated list of subjects and speakers for our meetings arranged for the next three months. These are nicely printed, together with names of officers, time of meeting, rules, and constitution, so that each member can have a copy for his own reference, and also to distribute to his friends. We have also made arrangements for excursions and field-meetings. We are encouraged and inspired by the past, and enter upon the future with bright anticipations for still greater success. May that success crown the efforts of all our Chapters!—Cephas B. Fox, Secretary.

REPORTS FROM THE SIXTH CENTURY.

527, _San Francisco_ (_G_). One of our young men has made an excellent induction-coil and other apparatus which we find useful in experimenting. Our work, as members of the A. A., has been very satisfactory and instructive.—Henry Rhine, Secretary.

539, _Philadelphia_ (_P_). We started in October, ’83, with ten members, and we now have thirty-two. We have held 100 regular and two special meetings. Six lectures have been delivered to the Chapter by as many lecturers. Our present plan of working is this: The Chapter is divided into three classes, zoölogy, botany, and mineralogy and geology. A member may join all the classes if he chooses, but must join at least one. Each class elects its own chairman. At four successive meetings, zoölogy is studied. The next four meetings are botanical. We conduct a journal, not printed, but written in a book, and read by the editor. Each member, in turn, is appointed to contribute an article to this journal. Our finances are in good condition, and in our next report I hope you will find an account of a permanent meeting-place (with an engraved charter, and picture of Professor Agassiz on the wall), containing a large library, a new cabinet, and a splendid microscope.—Louis L. Calvert, Sec.

549, _Linlithgow, Scotland._ The work of our Chapter has gone on very successfully. The members of the A. A. are also members of a local association, and the work of the latter is generally considered to be also that for the former. All the members have to acknowledge with pleasure the numerous offers to exchange made to them by American friends, advantage of which has been greatly taken. The Secretary has greatly enriched his herbarium by the additions to it of American plants. The out-of-door work—always the most pleasant—proved all last year to be most pleasurable and profitable, and it may be interesting to other members to know that all the members here are ’cyclists and find their wheels of the greatest service.

The subjects taken up have been botany, geology, entomology, ornithology, conchology, oölogy, and to a certain extent also zoölogy. Meetings have been held and papers read, and many excursions taken, and the members hope that, in spite of the claims made on them by their daily avocations, they will still be able to continue the study of nature.—Wm. Wardrop, Secretary.

544, _Philadelphia_ (_Q_). Our meetings are well attended and very interesting. Our debates are excellent, and show preparation on the part of the participants. During the coming year we promise to push things to a higher point than ever.—Joseph L. Hammer, Sec.

555, _Olympia, W. T._ We have held weekly meetings continuously, and have made constant additions to our cabinets. In botany we have a pretty good collection of phanerogams; about five hundred species determined; and in microscopy we have a good collection of diatoms. We have a good series of Puget Sound clamshells.—For the Secretary, Robt. Blankenship.

556, _Phila._, (_R_). Many specimens have been gained, but our cabinet does not fairly represent the Chapter, because each member is an enthusiastic collector in his own department, and, with a selfishness that perhaps can not be blamed, reserves his “finds” to increase his “working capital.” Our library has been more fortunate.

Our correspondence is a very pleasant feature. Mr. H. G. White writes us valuable letters on the bird life of Eastern Massachusetts, and W. H. Steckel keeps us informed on the plant life of Bucks County, Pennsylvania.

Another department of our Chapter is the biological section. Objects are exhibited under the microscope, and specimens, dissections, and preparations are handed around and freely discussed. Sometimes we meet informally, and spend an evening in dissections and general study. One will take a cicada pupa, one a locust or an earth-worm, and so on; before adjourning, each reports on his evening’s work.

Our MS. paper, “Monthly Notes,” has fallen into the hands of a most able and vigorous editor, and is flourishing vigorously. To conclude, we all feel that we are engaged in a good work, and each one, inspiring and being inspired by the example of the others, agrees that the Agassiz Association is the most worthy object of his loyalty and love. A question frequently asked by outsiders is, “Does it pay?” We promptly and heartily answer, “Yes!”—Wm. E. McHenry, sec.

564, _Santa Rosa, Cal._ The interest and attendance for the past six months have been larger than ever before. We gave a reception one Saturday evening, for the purpose of awaking an interest, and introducing our society to the public. The programme was:

1. Address, “History of the S. R. Chapter of the A. A.,” _Pres. G. Lowell_, 2. Select Reading, “The Cat,” _Louis King_. 3. Essay, “Nature,” _Wilber M. Swett_. 4. Select Reading, “Poem of Agassiz,” _Geo. Butt_. 5. “Biographical Sketch of Agassiz,” _Geo. Shaffer_. 6. “Microscopical Exhibition.”

The members loaned their private collections. There were four microscopes at hand, and numerous slides, all of which had been prepared by members. We hope by our perseverance to raise the S. R. A. A. to rank “one,” as a working Chapter.—Wilber M. Swett, Sec.

565, _Waseca, Minn._, is in the field to stay. Since our last report we have accomplished a great deal in the way of adding to our collections. We consider one good working member worth a hundred drones. The Secretary and Vice-President hope to be at Davenport in August. We report forty-six mounted birds, and seventeen skins of birds, all of our country; three mammals, forty-five osteological specimens, etc.; three skeletons, fifteen alcoholic specimens, and 200 eggs in sets, all named and numbered. Also some 1200 mineral specimens. We also devote some time to the study of ethnology, as up to as late as 1863, the ground on which Waseca now stands was frequented by tribes of Indians; and as a consequence of that study we have a box of bones, dug up from a mound, about two hundred arrow points, stone axes, and a curiously carved stone head. Please consider Chapter 565 as one of the Chapters that will be heard and felt in the years to come.—J. F. Murphy, Sec.

569, _Ludington, Mich._ We have a faithful club. Have not lost a member since we started two years ago last November. Have not failed of a meeting each week since last September. Have fourteen boys between ages of thirteen and fifteen.

Have been studying Winchell’s geological excursions, and one of the members said he thought that Prof. Winchell had written the book purposely for him. It has explained to us the higher geologies, and by it we have been enabled to name nearly all the rock specimens found in Michigan.

We gave a public meeting to our parents and friends, and entertained them with music, and essays, etc., prepared on the subjects previously studied. We also had a blackboard illustration, showing the causes of wells and springs, drawn and explained by one of our boys.

Again we invited the young ladies’ club to hold a meeting at our rooms, and after listening to their programme of essays, music, etc., we invited them to a banquet, cooked, arranged, and served _wholly_ by our _boys_. All pronounced it a fine success. We have had various excursions, examining gravel banks, gullies, cañons (small ones), etc. We have had experiments in chemistry, and have used the various acids, to the full satisfaction of the owner of the club-room. In order to fix in the minds the description of the different rocks, two of our young members have invented games of mineralogy,—one to be played like “Authors,” and the other like the geography game. The members like to try the latter on their adult friends, to see how much they know of the hardness, streak, chemical composition, forms of crystals, and uses of the common rocks.—L. B. Elsworth, Cor. Sec.

571, _Grand Rapids, Mich._ We organized our club in the first part of January, 1883, with about fifteen members; but we have grown, and now we have twenty-five members. We meet for one hour every Monday evening. One plan has been to call for items of interest from each of the members, and of these items we are forming a scrap-book. We have often had short talks from gentlemen upon various subjects, such as gunpowder and the care taken of it; light, and sound, and electricity with experiments. Our meetings are well attended, and the interest rather increases than otherwise.—Ed. Avery, Sec.

578, _Osceola, Iowa._ Our Chapter has a membership of twenty. We meet every Wednesday evening in a room fitted for that purpose. We have a cabinet containing a fine collection of ores, fossils, etc. Our Chapter was organized over two years ago. Since then our membership has gradually increased, and with it the interest of the members. The condition of the society is in every way promising.—Lee Burns, Sec., Box 744.

587, _Concord, N. H._ We think we have made more progress during the past year than in any other since our Chapter was formed. We have received many good specimens in exchange, among them some coal-fossils, in which we were greatly interested; a piece of iron ore from the Isle of Elba, and a quantity of shells from all points of the compass. So now our cabinet contains some 500 minerals, besides the shells and other curiosities. We have not read scientific books as much this winter as we did last year, but have given our time to practical work in botany and mineralogy. Five young ladies come in every Monday for the study of botany, taking up house-plants as a preparation for other work next summer. Also, we took advantage of Professor Crosby’s offer, and have much enjoyed the work in mineralogy under his direction. We found blow-pipe analysis very fascinating.—Lunette E. Lamprey, Sec.

590, _Pomfret Centre, Conn._ An average of four members of our Chapter have met once a week through the winter. We have carefully examined two herbariums collected by members, besides looking over nearly one hundred species of flowers and ferns sent to me from California. During the year we have examined 300 species of flowers and ferns growing in this vicinity. We have made one excursion this month, and we have upon our list since April 7, 1886, twenty-five plants. The first, Houstonia, was found on April 13. Our members are more enthusiastic than ever before, and we are looking forward to a very profitable season.—S. P. Oakes Marsh, Sec.

595, _Oneonta, N. Y._ One of our members is taking the course of lessons in mineralogy, and enjoys it very much. Another is making a collection of the violets, and writing out descriptions of all the plants she finds. When we go to the woods we always take a basket and stout knife; then when we find a plant which we do not know, and is not in bloom, we transplant it to our little wild garden; then when it blossoms, we analyze it: if it is pretty and desirable, we let it grow; if not, we pull it up; but when we meet it again, we know it.—Jessie E. Jenks, Sec.

600, _Galveston_ (_A_). Since date of last report (September 16, 1885), we have held fifteen meetings, at which were read six essays and eleven selected readings. There were reported seventy-six notes on natural objects, and specimens found, to the number of one hundred and fifty-one.

Among the many curious notes reported was one on the nest of a mud-wasp, found within the rind of a ripe orange, the skin of which had burst from rapid growth.

EXCHANGES.

Galena, gold ore, silver ore, fluorspar, etc. I will hereafter give all inquirers for exchange my closest attention.—Ernest L. Roberts, Sec. 262, Denver, Col.

Infusorial earth from Virginia for specimens from other States.—Chapter 248, 109 East Grace street, Richmond, Va.

Minerals for same. Lists exchanged. Silicified wood a specialty.—Miss Allie Cole, Sec. Ch. 700, Mt. Pleasant, Iowa.

Cactus and petrified wood.—Emma E. Pirie, San Antonio, Texas.

Collections of twenty-five native California plants each, for books and pamphlets relating to botany and ornithology.—P. M. Hoit, Santa Barbara, California.

Holly, mistletoe, balls of sweet gum-tree, and “cross-vine,” for mounted sea-weed, star-fish, and other marine specimens.—Frank J. Engel, Montvale Springs, Tennessee.

Well identified bird-skins for same. Send for lists.—L. M. Davies, 203 Newell street, Cleveland, Ohio.

Petrified wood.—Wilber M. Swett, Santa Rosa, Cal.

NEW AND REORGANIZED CHAPTERS.

_No. _No._ _Name._ of _Address._ Members._ 967 Menominee, Mich. (A) 2 Guy Milbury. 779 Chicago, Ill. (Y) 4 Miss Alice I. Halsey, 3027½ S. Park Ave. 45 Shelbyville, Ky. (A) 6 Ross Neel. 791 St. Louis, Mo. (F) 5 Mrs. E. K. Jones, 713 Channing Ave. 347 Baltimore, Md. (C) 6 Miss Affa Gray, 428 N. Mount St. 719 Phila., Pa. (A’) 7 Herbert L. Evans, 4414 Sansom St. 557 Phila., Pa. (S) 7 Chas. Nason, 2116 Percy St. 968 Montvale Sp’gs, Tenn (A) 9 Frank J. Engel, Blount Co. 969 Cromwell, Ct. (A) 9 H. H. Barrows. 970 Stanbridge Quebec (A) 8 A. F. Sargent. 971 Mendham, N. J. (A) 11 Alvah Quimby. 110 Marshalltown, Iowa (A) 4 C. C. Trine. 13 Madison, N. J. (A) 9 Lillian H. Springer. 107 Newburyport, Mass. (A) 6 Geo. A. Noyes. 168 Buffalo, N. Y. (C) 5 Henry S. Gatley, 205 Swan St.

DISBANDED.

841 Fairview, N. J. Mrs. C. W. Asbury. 506 Port Henry, N. J. John M. Thomas. 462 New Haven, Conn. (A) J. H. Haydon.

Secretaries of Chapters 601-700 will kindly send in their annual reports by August 25, if possible.

All are invited to join the AGASSIZ ASSOCIATION, old and young.

Address all communications for this department to

MR. HARLAN H. BALLARD, Lenox, Mass.

THE LETTER-BOX.

Contributors are respectfully informed that, between the 1st of June and the 15th of September, manuscripts can not conveniently be examined at the office of ST. NICHOLAS. Consequently, those who desire to favor the magazine with contributions will please postpone sending their MSS. until after the last-named date.

The explanation of “curving” in base-ball pitching has been discussed at length in this volume of ST. NICHOLAS, and we now present to our older boy-readers, as a final contribution on the subject, these three letters from three widely separated localities. The first comes from the far West:

PINOLE, CAL., 1886.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: The explanation of “curving” suggested in your April number is ingenious, but unfortunately it makes the ball curve the wrong way. The anonymous explanation in February has the same defect, though it narrowly misses being correct. I ask your readers to look over that explanation again, and they will see that the ball, under the extraordinary conditions imposed upon it, instead of “curving,” as the writer says, to the right, will not advance at all, but will revolve around the point D to the left.

There can be no doubt about the possibility of “curving” a base-ball. The subject is an old one in gunnery, and has been thoroughly investigated by various experimenters. When spherical projectiles were the only ones in vogue, the matter was one of vital interest to artillerists. When such a ball is thrown, it is acted upon by two forces—the resistance of the air and the force of gravity. The normal path for a given velocity and angle of projection is a plane curve, because both these forces act in the vertical plane of fire—the force of gravity vertically and the resistance of the air tangentially to the curve. When, in addition to the motion of translation, the ball is given a motion of rotation about its center of inertia, the latter will no longer describe the normal path, but will deviate from it by “curving” to the right or left, up or down, depending upon the direction of the rotation. This is because the resultant of the air-resistances will no longer act in the line of the tangent in the general case, but at an angle with it. The general effect will be an increase or diminution of the normal range or deviation to the right or left of the plane of fire.

Now, it is almost impossible to project a spherical ball from a smooth-bore gun without giving it a rotation the direction of which it is difficult to predict; hence the inaccuracy of that kind of fire. Spherical balls are not homogeneous, as a rule. If the center of figure and center of inertia do not coincide, the ball will rotate when fired—unless so placed in the gun that these points are both in the axis of the piece. Taking advantage of these principles, Major Wade, of our army, years ago managed to make an eccentric shell curve so as to fall fifty yards to the right or left of the plane of fire. The “curving” due to rotation is in the direction in which the _front of the ball rotates_. Perhaps the explanation accepted by artillerists can be best understood by the aid of a figure. Let the ball be moving in the direction AE and be rotating at the same time in the direction BCD about an axis vertical to the plane of the paper. AE will be the projection of the plane of fire—which plane will divide the ball into two hemispheres. Now, the half of the ball on the side B will be moving forward by the rotation, or in the same direction as the center, while the other half D will be moving backward, or in opposition to the motion of the center. The side B will have a greater velocity than the side D. The resistance of the air upon any surface moving through it varies with the amount and form of the surface. In these regards, the two sides are alike, but the resistance also varies with the velocity of the moving surface, increasing with some power greater than the square, and in this regard the two sides are different. The side B will experience a greater resistance than the side D, or, what is the same thing, the resultant of all the pressures on all points of the hemisphere. B is greater than the corresponding resultant on D, and the ball will yield toward the side D, describing a curve C F.

[Illustration]

The deviation of oblong rifle projectiles which rotate about their axes of figure is called “drift.” This is a very interesting phenomenon, but it should not be confounded with the “curving” or deviation by rotation of spherical projectiles, as it is to be explained very differently. Yours truly,

W. R. QUINAN.

The next letter is sent from Chicago, and the writer’s theory is comparatively a simple one:

CHICAGO, 1886.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have been much interested in the letters on the subject of curve-pitching, and since I have taken you for eleven years, I hope you will publish my theory, that it may be picked to pieces, and I may be set right on the subject. My theory is as follows:

[Illustration]

Let _A B_ be a ball moving toward _D_, and rotating in the direction shown by the arrows.

As the ball flies along, it pushes the air aside, as shown by the lines _F E_; the air thus rubs against the sides of the ball. But as the half of the ball called _B_ is revolving with the air as shown by the arrow, there is much less friction on that side than on the half called _A_, which is revolving against the air.

Therefore, as motion is always in the direction of least resistance, the ball must curve in the direction _C_.

If any of the readers of the ST. NICHOLAS can not understand my explanation, let them imagine, for example (instead of a regular ball), a ball covered with paddles, and they will then readily understand it. If they think it not a good simile, let them look at the surface of a ball through a microscope and their doubts will not last long.

Your friend,

W. H.

Finally, from Boston, comes this rather formidable-looking explanation, which will interest those of our boy-readers who are accustomed to take their recreation and fun in the form of mathematical problems. [But doesn’t it make the ball curve in the wrong direction?]

BOSTON, MASS.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Let the line _A B_, Fig. 1, represent in length and direction a given force acting on the point _B_. Draw any parallelogram, as _A C B D_, having _A B_ for a diagonal; then the lines _C B_ and _D B_ represent in length and direction two forces acting on _B_, which, together, are equivalent to _A B_, _A B_ is the resultant of _C B_ and _D B_, _C B_ and _D B_ are components of _A B_.

[Illustration: Fig. 1]

[Illustration: Fig. 2]

If the parallelogram, _A C B D_, Fig. 2, is a rectangle, the components _C B_ and _D B_ are known as right components. The force represented by _D B_ has no effect in the direction _C B_, and the force represented by _C B_ has no effect in the direction _D B_.

Let Fig. 3 represent a ball revolving about its center _O_, in the direction indicated by the arrows, but the ball, as a whole, not moving in any direction. Let _BB_, _BB_, be lines at right angles to each other. Let the resistance of the atmosphere be represented by lines _AB_, _AB_, _AB_, _AB_, and _AB′_, _AB′_, _AB′_, _AB′_, running in a direction opposite to the revolution of the ball. The lines _AB_, _AB_, _AB_, _AB_ are already perpendicular to _BB_, _BB_, and need not be changed. But the lines _AB′_, _AB′_, _AB′_, _AB′_ must be resolved into components perpendicular to _BB_, _BB_. This has been done in one case, the components being _CB′_ and _DB′_. But the force _CB′_ acting on the point _B_ is equivalent to the force _EF_ acting on _BB_, and the force _DB_ is equivalent to the force _GH_ acting on the other _BB_.

[Illustration: Fig. 3]

In a similar manner all the other forces, _A′B′_ may be resolved into forces perpendicular to the lines _BB_, _BB_.

[Illustration: Fig. 4]

If, in Fig. 3, all the forces acting on each of the lines _OB_, be represented by a single line, we have as the result the four equal lines _AB_, _CD_, _EF_, _GH_, Fig. 4 representing the total force acting on the ball.

Now, suppose the ball to move in the direction indicated by the large arrow, Fig. 5, then the resistance on the side _B_ would increase, that on the side _F_ would decrease, hence _AB_ would increase, while _EF_ decreased proportionately. Again, the air in front of the ball at _H_ is condensed, that in the rear at _D_ is rarefied, hence the resistance at _H_ is increased, that at _D_ being lessened, and _GH_ is increased, while _CD_ is lessened.

[Illustration: Fig. 5]

Set off on _AB_, _AK_ equal to _EF_; _AK_ will balance _EF_, and we have only the force _KB_ acting on the line _BF_. Making _GL_ equal, _CD_, in the same manner, we have only the force _LH_ acting the line _HD_.

Now, the force represented by the line _BK_ can not do any work in the directions _BF_ or _FB_, and therefore merely slows the ball. But the force _LH_, although it can not do any work in the directions _HD_ or _DH_, can do work in the direction _LH_, and causes the ball to follow the curve _HM_.

Of course, all the forces, _AB_, _CD_, _EF_, _GH_, tend to stop the rotation of the ball, but the forces _KB_ and _LH_ are the only ones which change the motion of the ball as a whole.

F. H. C.

* * * * *

The following verses were written by a young poet of eleven, who began making rhymes at the rather early age of three.

CONSOLATION.

BY ETHEL S. K. PACKARD.

The waves of the coming tide Crept gently along the beach, With musical, silv’ry plash, As if they broke into speech.

And when my sweet joy was dead, The sound of the heaving sea, Like gentle breath of sleepers, Was a soothing balm to me.

* * * * *

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I suppose you know that many girls have a poor opinion of boys. Well, my sister and her girl-friends were going to have a fair in my mother’s parlors. I wanted to be in it, but they laughed, and asked me “if I could dress a doll, or make a needle-book?” While they were joking, Mamma whispered something in my ear, and we had a secret together, and we kept it till the night of the fair, and then we astonished my sister in this way. There is a long hall opening out of our back parlor. Mamma had it brightly lighted, that night, and about the middle of the evening Papa opened the door which led into the hall, and hung a large card over the door, on which was written: “Target-Shooting.”

I was in there with my new air-pistol, and the target was at the other end of the hall. I loaded the pistol, and another boy took the money. We charged two cents for a shot, and we had all we could do to load fast enough, so many people wanted to shoot. Some took ten shots. When I handed the money to my sister, she said I was “a daisy,”—I think I had the best of the joke that time,—don’t you?

Yours,

JAMIE H.

Yes, Jamie,—but we think also that some of the credit belongs to Mamma. Don’t you?

* * * * *

A FRIEND of ST. NICHOLAS sends to the “Letter-box” this illustrated jingle:

[Illustration]

A rising young Man at the CAPE, Climbed a tree with the speed of an ape. “Why I’ve climbed up you’ll know If you look down below.”— Said this rising young Man at the CAPE.

* * * * *

THE CHILDREN’S RIDE.

Once there were two little girls. Their names were Rosy and Alice. They had a little brother whose name was Robbie. Once when they were in the woods they saw a creature with eyes of flame, whistling as it went through the air, and it said in a gruff voice, “I am a Jabberwock.”

“What kind of a creature under the sun are you?” said Robbie; “what flashing eyes you have! You look rather kind, though very frightful. Please take me up to the moon on your back and give me some cheese when you get there.”

Robbie had heard that there was cheese in the moon, but he did not really think so; only for a joke he said that.

“Oh! you soft little pussy thing!” said Rosy, as they rode away up to the moon. Pretty soon they went bump against something which was shiny and yellow. It was the moon. Then Jabberwock let the children get off her back, and asked the Man in the Moon if he would please get from his closet some cheese. “Why!” said Robbie, “I didn’t know there was really any cheese up in the moon!”

“Then,” said the Jabberwock, “why did you ask for it?”

“For a joke,” said Robbie.

“Well, here now,” said the Man in the Moon, “eat your cheese.”

“Why, how nice!” said Alice, as she took a large bite out of the cheese. “I think it would be nice to live up in the moon altogether, though I am afraid Mamma would not let us.”

“Well, I suppose she wouldn’t,” said the Jabberwock. After they had had some cheese they went down again.

“Oh, thank you,” said Rosy, as they got down to the earth. “Jabberwock, I think you are the loveliest creature in the world—except Mamma!”

“Oh,” said Alice, “I wish you would stay with us a few days—I suppose you will if we ask you to.”

“Yes,” said Jabberwock, “I would love to. Should you like to see my baby? It is a sweet little thing.”

She led them to a hole in a tree, where they saw the tiniest little baby Jabberwock you ever saw.

“What a cunning little thing!” said Rosy; “but has it not got any fur on?”

“No,” said Jabberwock; “but still it is pretty, is it not?”

“Of course it is,” said Rosy.

“But come,” said Alice, “this is the time Mamma wanted us to be home.”

“Is it?” said the Jabberwock. “Well, I will come.” So away they went.

Written by MARY CONSTANCE DU BOIS (at the age of 5 years and 10 months).

* * * * *

We acknowledge with thanks the receipt of pleasant letters from the following young friends: Frank Taylor, Harry Armstrong, Katie P. Peabody, Alice Conway, Robert A. Provan, Fay Taylor, Pussy and Leuce, Josie Irwin, Agnes F. Conwell, W. H., Allmond McKay Griggs, Hugh P. Yiemann, Katie, Dorothea Nimzer, Anna Wetmore, Edith M., H. L. M., “Venus,” Celia Loeb, Francis E. L., Florence E. Gaffield, Marion S. Dumont, Lee A. Miller, M. C. H., Evelyn Knight, Pansy, Luckett & Miriam I., F. W. Horninghouse, Hattie Frost, Emily E. Warner, “Alice, Annie, Gracie, Florence, Jessie, Marion,” “Three Rebels,” K., H. S. M., Bessie Maud Bowsher, Jerry Richter, Walter S. H., Nettie Rychen, Allan C. Rowe, May Singleton, Philip A. M., William B. Judson, Minnie W., C. E. Lankford, Ida E., Annie B. Sargent, Nellie P. Clark, Alex. D., Helen W., J. Henry Warren, F. W. Lodge, Grace Coburn, Harriet F. Lightfoot, Edith S. Clark, Fred B. W., Sadie Furman, Ellen S. Congdon, Gertrude, Emily Belton, Grace Vandever, Helen Crane, Alex. Evans, Kate Morris, Belle B. Anderson, Mabel B., M. B. P., Mabel Carrington, Cora L. Witherspoon, Gertrude M., Eugene Kell, C. G. Elmore, Willie Pettigrew, Willie J. Spear, Jeannette G., Jessamine C., Albert L. Scoullar, Albertie Russell, George Emerson, Helen A. Polsley, Ed. H. B., Elizabeth Butler and Elizabeth Wright, P. N. S., Ethel Grey, Rebecca K. Allison, Burton P. Thoms, Amy H., Florence Rawson Greer, Stella A. Goodell, S. W. Bridgham, Jenny Wren, Anna L. L., R. E. B., Maude F. Helen, W. M., Mary Weller, Buddie Holt, Daisey Higham, Sadie, Lyra and Silvia, M. G. Waring, E. H. Smalley, Annetta Reese, Anna May Peaslee, Florence Langton, Bessie P., Howard Butcher, Jr.

* * * * *

MR. CULMER BARNES contributes to the “Letter-box” this month a timely picture:

[Illustration: “JUST MY LUCK! LAST WINTER ’TWAS STRAW HATS ALL THE TIME, AND NOW I GET NOTHIN’ BUT FUR GOODS!”]

THE RIDDLE-BOX.

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE JULY NUMBER.

NUMERICAL ENIGMA. “Our country! In her intercourse with foreign nations, may she always be in the right; but our country, right or wrong.”

_Stephen Decatur._

CUBE. 1 to 2, mother; 2 to 6, repose; 5 to 6, needle; 1 to 5, Marion; 3 to 4, eating; 4 to 8, greedy; 7 to 8, nimbly; 3 to 7, ensign; 1 to 3, mite; 2 to 4, rung; 6 to 8, easy; 5 to 7, noon.

ANAGRAMS. 1. Don Quixote. 2. Oliver Twist. 3. The Virginians. 4. Guy Mannering. 5. Old Curiosity Shop. 6. Uncle Tom’s Cabin. 7. The Woman in White. 8. The Last Days of Pompeii. 9. The Vicar of Wakefield. 10. Quentin Durward.

PI. “Angling may be said to be so like the mathematics that it can never be fully learnt.”

_Izaak Walton._

METAMORPHOSES. 1. Cow; row, rot, rat. 2. Hard; harm, farm, form, fort, sort, soft. 3. Left; lest, vest, vast, east. 4. Hit; nit, not, now, low. 5. Long; lone, lose, lost, lest, west.

RHOMBOIDS. I. Across: 1. Venom. 2. Damon. 3. Bales. 4. Resin. 5. Strop. II. Across. 1. Nabob. 2. Mason. 3. Danes. 4. Remit. 5. Donor.—CHARADE. Par-son-age.

ZIGZAG. Independence Day. Cross-words: 1. Ivy. 2. aNt. 3. liD. 4. fEd. 5. Put. 6. nEd. 7. paN. 8. aDd. 9. End. 10. aNd. 11. roC. 12. lEd. 13. Dig. 14. mAy. 15. laY.

HOUR-GLASS. Centrals, straw-hats; from 1 to 2, saltwater; from 3 to 4, stopwatch. Cross-words: 1. Spinsters. 2. Apitpat. 3 Largo. 4. Tap. 5. W. 6. Aha. 7. Trait. 8. Centime. 9. Handsomer.

TO OUR PUZZLERS: In sending answers to puzzles, sign only your initials or use a short assumed name; but if you send a complete list of answers you may sign your full name. Answers should be addressed to ST. NICHOLAS “Riddle-box,” care of THE CENTURY CO., 33 East Seventeenth street, New York City.

ANSWERS TO ALL THE PUZZLES IN THE MAY NUMBER were received, before May 20, from Maud E. Palmer—Annette Fiske—Philip S. Fiske—“B. L. Z. Bub, No. 1”—Maggie T. Turrill—Paul Reese—San Anselmo Valley—Arthur and Bertie Knox—“Betsy Trotwood”—B. L. Z. Bub, No. 2—“May and 79”—Sallie Viles—The Melvilles—Blithedale—Mamie R.—Madge and the Dominie—Carrie S. Seaver and Alice M. Young—The Spencers—“Francesca”—“Clifford and Coco”—Bertha Z. Gerhard—“Sisters Twain”—“R. U. Pert”—“Hazel, Laurel, and Olive”—“Theo. Ther.”

ANSWERS TO PUZZLES TO THE MAY NUMBER were received, before May 20, from M. L. B., 1—M. S. Dumont, 1—W. B. R.—M. L. D. and others, 2—Pelham, 1—Two Fs., 5—The Peraults—C. D. Mason, 1—“Miss Ouri,” 5—“Tigers,” 2—Stella Mendel, 1—Johnny, 1—Dixie, 1—“Tigers,” 1—Maud F., 1—Lucy Jones, 1—J. Schlussel, 1—Laura G. Levy, 9—Buttercup and Daisy, 1—Helena Hellwig, 2—Madge Fursman, 1—Florence Althaus, 7—Thyrza Thornton, 5—C. S. H., 2—Mrs. Sippi, 5—Mary, Jennie and Mother, 6—Grace Cameron, 2—Effie K. Talboys, 8—“Yum Yum,” 1—Pepper and Maria, 12—Papa and Daisy, 1—Ned Mitchell, 5—Emma W. and Katie B. Knight, 2—T. L. and L. Cozzens, 1—Lucy M. Bradley, 12—Lizzie Wainman, 1—Geo. H. English, 1—“Chrysanthemum,” 1—Mary P. Fan, 1—“Jack Sprat and Pa,” 6—H. and L., 9—Clarence Brothers, 1—L. Reeves, 9—Eugene Kell, 1—No Name, N. Y., 9—W. R. M., 11—Bertha H., 12—“Rags and Tags,” 1—Nellie and Reggie, n—S. B. Bissell, 8—“Avis” and Grace Davenport, 10—“Mohawk Valley”—“Rasco,” 2—S. L. Meeks, 9—Belle Murdock, 12—No Name, Chicago, 10—B. B. Y., 11—“The Girls, Mabel, John, and Chickadee,” 11—R. B. C., 2—Original Puzzle Club, 10—“Geo. M. Ebry,” 2—Harrison Allen, Jr., 1—R. Lloyd, 1—“Blank” and Ulysees, 12—Dash, 12—Francis W. Islip, 12—Eleanor, Maude, Louise, Bertie and Nanno Peart, 7—Ida and Edith Swanwick, 8—Geo. S. Seymour, 8—Lulu May, 11—Frank M. Crispen, 1—Puzzled Family in Paris, 8—Esther Reid, Merton House, 1.

CHARADE.

My dear, this _whole_ I send to you, A token of my friendship true; I trust you’ll _first_ it,—hold it fast, And prize it if but for my _last_.

“MYRTLE GREEN.”

OCTAGON.

1. A gentle blow. 2. The Christian name of the heroine of a novel by Theodore Winthrop. 3. To bleach. 4. The herb wolf’s-bane. 5. Pertaining to the bile. 6. A fruit which was said to make strangers who ate of it forget their native land. 7. Musical syllables.

EDWARD ROBERT B.

GREEK CROSS.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * . . . . . . * * * * . . . . . . * * * * . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I. UPPER SQUARE: 1. Proportion. 2. To affirm. 3. Familiar beverages. 4. Formerly.

II. LEFT-HAND SQUARE: 1. Rent. 2. A Hebrew measure. 3. Fabrics of a certain kind. 4. Formerly.

III. CENTRAL SQUARE: 1. Formerly. 2. A large bird of South America. 3. Bodies of water. 4. Labor.

IV. RIGHT-HAND SQUARE: 1. Labor. 2. Surface. 3. Abode. 4. A feminine name.

V. LOWER SQUARE: 1. Labor. 2. A feminine name. 3. To break suddenly. 4. Retained.

MURRAY AND PERCY.

INVERTED PYRAMIDS.

I. Across: 1. Eloquence. 2. To eat into. 3. Part of a cat’s foot. 4. In eloquence.

Downward: 1. In Troy. 2. A musical note. 3. Skill. 4. An implement. 5. A lyric poem. 6. A musical note. 7. In Troy.

II. Across: 1. Pertaining to the craft of Freemasons. 2. A wooden shoe. 3. To cut the grass from. 4. In ceramic.

Downward: 1. In ceramic. 2. Similar to. 3. A boy’s nickname. 4. A hautboy. 5. At this moment. 6. A pronoun. 7. In ceramic.

“LOU C. LEE.”

ILLUSTRATED CENTRAL ACROSTICS.

[Illustration]

All of the cross-words of the above central acrostic are grouped around the central picture, and answer to the following definitions.

1 (nine letters). A contrivance useful in winter. 2 (nine letters). A swift-flying insect. 3 (seven letters). A young fowl. 4 (five letters). Familiar objects in rural districts. 5 (three letters). A winged animal. 6 (three letters). Consumed. 7 (five letters). Useful to fishermen. 8 (seven letters). An animal.

The central letters of the words described will spell the name of a great Athenian philosopher, and the central picture will suggest what is usually associated with his last moments.

AN EGYPTIAN PUZZLE.

[Illustration]

x . x . . . x . . . . . x . . . . . . . x . . . . . . . . . x . . . . .

The above Egyptian puzzle is an illustrated pyramid, as the diagram in the lower left-hand corner indicates. When rightly guessed, the central letters (indicated by crosses) will spell the name of a famous statue that is said to emit sounds like those of a harp as the sun rises. The illustrations answer to the following definitions.

1. A letter. 2. A precious stone. 3. An animal. 4. Tropical fruit. 5. An animal. 6. A native of a certain Egyptian city.

RIMLESS WHEELS.

8 1 2 . . . . . . 7 . . 9 . . 3 . . . . . . 6 5 4

I. From 1 to 9, the Christian name of an English queen; from 2 to 9, a famous river; from 3 to 9, a cupola; from 4 to 9, the name of a large lake; from 5 to 9, to scale; from 6 to 9, magnitude; from 7 to 9, the margin; from 8 to 9, a number.

The letters represented by the figures from 1 to 8 spell the name of a Danish author who died August 4, 1875.

II. From 1 to 9, part of a watch; from 2 to 9, qualified; from 3 to 9, matured; from 4 to 9, uncommon; from 5 to 9, 43,560 square feet; from 6 to 9, to stare; from 7 to 9, to incite; from 8 to 9, a specimen.

The letters represented by the figures from 1 to 8 spell the name of a famous American who died August 14, 1870.

HONORA N.

DIAMOND.

1. In telephone. 2. One of the smaller sails on a ship. 3. A small but famous country. 4. A Spanish nobleman. 5. A favorite. 6. Era. 7. In telephone.

“ŒDIPUS.”

DOUBLE ACROSTIC.

In each of the following sentences a word is concealed, the definition to which is given in the same sentence. When rightly selected and placed one below the other in the order here given, the primals and finals will each form the name of a distinguished poet who was born in August. The cross-words are all of the same length.

1. It is hard, in essays, to avoid assurance.

2. Mary has gone to Salem; Bell is home, and the latter will adorn the book she is composing.

3. In an oration, a legate gave the detail of reasons for making it.

4. Clare hears a little rumor that there will be a recital this evening.

5. This incident I call the same as that in the other story.

6. On Mount Carmel I temporized with one of the friars.

7. When I look now in glyphs, I feel their beauty understandingly.

CYRIL DEANE.

CUBE.

1 . . . . . . 2 . . . . . . . . 5 . . . . . . 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 . . . . . . 4 . . . . . . . . 7 . . . . . . 8

From 1 to 2, royal; from 2 to 4, a long-tailed species of hawk, found in Europe; from 3 to 4, a dealer in precious stones; from 1 to 3, eternal; from 5 to 6, a two-masted vessel; from 6 to 8, becoming circular; from 7 to 8, a method of securing a good draught in chimneys; from 5 to 7, the name of one of the three persons thrown into the fiery furnace of Nebuchadnezzar; from 1 to 5, the flower-deluce; from 2 to 6, an affected cast of countenance; from 4 to 8, a kind of seaweed; from 3 to 7, to scourge.

“ROSE MADDER.”

BEHEADINGS.

1. Behead withered and leave part of the head. 2. Behead dry and leave to free from. 3. Behead flexible and leave a demon. 4. Behead to sulk and leave to unfold. 5. Behead surrounded by and leave in the center of. 6. Behead joyful and leave a young boy. 7. Behead an ornament worn by Jewish priests and leave an edge. 8. Behead a short piece of iron and leave to be ill. 9. Behead the fraction of an ounce and leave an ancient instrument of war. 10. Behead a character in the play of “Othello” and leave gone.

The words described are of equal length. The beheaded letters, read in the order here given, will spell the name of one of Washington Irving’s earliest works.

“FRANCESCO AND CO.”

ZIGZAG.

Each of the words described contains the same number of letters, and the zigzag, beginning at the upper left-hand letter, will spell an important event that occurred on August 5, 1856.

CROSS-WORDS: 1. Certain. 2. An exhibition. 3. Merriment. 4. Festivity. 5. To satisfy. 6. To strike. 7. A minute particle. 8. Formerly. 9. Recent. 10. Half. 11. Nationality. 12. Pain. 13. Dry. 14. Capable. 15. An elevation. 16. To engage. 17. Hearty. 18. To salute. 19. Want. 20. Notion. 21. To cook slowly. 22. To twist.

“KATASHAW.”