15.—Ladder Puzzle.
Take the first and last letters of the 'rounds,' and add a letter between each round, to form the 'posts.'
Right post. A large town in England, not far from Birmingham.
Left post. The act or process of reasoning.
| Round | 1. A boy's Christian name. |
| " | 2. A small singing bird. |
| " | 3. A town prominent in the South African War. |
| " | 4. A large island in the Pacific. |
| " | 5. A terrible monster of Greek legend. |
| " | 6. Another island in the Pacific. |
| " | 7. A race which invaded and conquered England. |
C. J. B.
Answer to Puzzle on [Page 290].
14.—
- F-rail.
- S-tale.
- B-one.
- S-hake.
- F-right.
- T-haw.
THE ASS OF DENMARK.
A Dane once brought to his country a beautiful he-ass from Andalusia, and the animal was exhibited as a curiosity in all the towns. An innkeeper of a place between Hamburg and Lubeck took it for a sign; he had it painted, and hung the sign at the door of his inn, with the inscription, 'The Ass of Denmark;' and the good accommodation of the inn rendered it famous.
Many years after, the Prince of Denmark, in passing by that place, took lodging there. The honour was so highly appreciated by the innkeeper that he begged the prince to allow him to take his portrait for a sign, and this was granted him. Another innkeeper immediately bought the well-known sign of the Ass, and by this means attracted to his inn all travellers. The other then perceived his want of foresight; and in order to remedy it, he had written at the foot of the portrait of the Prince of Denmark, 'This is the original Ass.'
ETHEL'S ORANGE-PLANT.
'My little orange-tree is coming up! It has put out two leaves since yesterday!' said Ethel, joyously, as she put the precious pot on the rustic table in the arbour, which in the summer holidays was the favourite sitting-room of Ethel and her sister May. 'I am so glad. I wonder when it will begin to bear oranges,' and Ethel already saw, in imagination, the tiny shoot, with its twin green leaves, growing into a bushy tree, weighed down with golden fruit!
'Here comes May,' she continued. 'May, May! isn't it nice? My orange has two leaves!'
May, however, was in no humour to rejoice with her little sister. Her orange-pip, planted at the same time, showed no signs of life whatever, and now to hear of Ethel's plant putting forth leaves was too much; and so her only answer was to say crossly, 'What have you brought the stupid thing here for? I want the table for my scrap-book.'
'Oh, let it stop,' pleaded little Ethel. 'The sun always leaves the schoolroom window at ten o'clock, and orange-trees want so much sun. There is plenty of room for your desk and the pot.'
May did not answer, but she pettishly pushed the plant to one side, and placed her scrap-book on the table with a bang.
'There is not room,' she said at last; 'where is my desk to go with that great plant blocking up everything? Take it back to the schoolroom, Ethel,' and not looking at the plant, she carelessly pushed it to one side—too much to one side, for it fell to the ground and was broken to pieces, the heavy scrap-book falling on top of it.
'Oh, my plant! my beautiful plant is broken!' cried Ethel. 'I shall never see the oranges grow on it,' and she covered her face with her hands and sobbed bitterly.
'What is the matter? Are you hurt, dear?' asked her mother, hurrying up from a flower-bed where she was planting out seedlings.
'It's the orange-plant!' sobbed Ethel; 'but May did not mean to break it,' she added loyally.
'Oh, dear, what a pity!' said Mrs. Randen, as she carefully lifted the plant in its broken pot, and placed it on the table. 'How came you to be so careless, May?'
'I—I don't know,' stammered May, and she turned away feeling ashamed and miserable, for her conscience told her it was scarcely an accident, for she meant to be rough with the plant, though perhaps she had hardly meant to break it.
'How could I do it?' she asked herself, as she threw herself on the schoolroom sofa, and burst into tears. 'Ethel is so good, too; how horrid I must be to have grudged her pleasure in her plant, even though mine is dead.'
She raised her eyes to the window, where stood her pot, and there, to her amazement, she saw a tender little leaf pushing through the dark soil. It was not dead then! Quick as thought she jumped up, seized the pot, and flew down to the arbour.
'My plant is coming up, and you must have it, Ethel, because I am so very sorry I broke yours,' she said eagerly. 'Take it, do, and say you forgive me.'
"May turned away, feeling ashamed and miserable."
'Oh, May, you could not help it,' said Ethel, drying her eyes, and trying to smile, 'and I won't take your plant. I am very glad it is coming up.'
'You must have it,' said May firmly. 'I shall never like it unless it is yours; it will always remind me of a horrid day,' ended up May, somewhat lamely, for she could not say how guilty she felt in the matter.
So Ethel had the plant, and nursed it so well that in days to come it really did produce a small orange, and this time May was the first to rejoice with her sister.
ANIMAL MAKESHIFTS.
True Anecdotes.
IV.—CURIOUS CUPBOARDS.
The inborn wisdom which Providence gives animals for their good is clearly shown by something very like forethought about food supplies, an instinct which tells creatures to lay by 'for a rainy day.' It is less strongly marked among the winged races, because they prefer to fly in search of fresh supplies when the old fail, and seldom provide cupboards or larders at home. Yet there are birds that make stores. After a full meal many of the crow tribe, including the raven, rook, and jackdaw, will put away and hoard what is left. A magpie once paid me a visit, perching on an ash-tree, the boughs of which almost brushed against my bedroom window. Very early one morning he awoke me by calling out his own name, together with a lot of chattering, the meaning of which appeared to be that 'Maggie' was both hungry and thirsty. He was tame and talkative, and had clearly escaped from somewhere. I placed a saucer of milk and bread, with a dish of meat, cut up, and another of fresh water, on the sill of the open window, and soon had the pleasure of seeing my guest making a hearty meal. After eating till he could eat no more, he took a splendid bath out of the water-dish, muttering hoarsely all the while, and strutting up and down as he eyed the remaining meat, which he felt unable to swallow. From time to time he cast a cunning look my way, as if to hint politely that he wished to be alone. 'Go about your business, do,' I thought the look said; so I went out, shut the door, and watched him through the keyhole. With much chuckling Maggie then laid his plans, and carried them out.
That night, on going to bed, I found several lumps of meat hidden under my pillow; a further search revealed a second layer beneath the bolster. A few bits were crammed into chinks round the window-sashes, and the rest was concealed in various convenient spots. There Maggie had placed them to await the time when they should be wanted. He himself roosted on one leg in the ash-tree, looking like a feather mop, and was spared the grief of seeing his hoards discovered. But, in spite of the hidden store, he roused me at dawn the next morning by shrill screams for breakfast.
"His playful habit of pulling out the pegs."
I knew Maggie would be claimed by somebody, and sure enough a woman, who had tracked him by his voice, soon came and asked leave to 'call him back.' But Maggie refused to come, and as the idea of a cage for any living creature is distasteful to me, I was glad to arrange for his free board and lodging in the tree near my window. I found that at his old quarters, one of a row of cottages hard by, he had kept things lively by his playful habit of watching the neighbours hang out their clean linen in the back yards, getting loose from his cage, pouncing down on the clothes-lines, pulling out the pegs, and chuckling with glee when all the 'wash' fell down in the dirt, and had to be done over again.
Dogs and cats, as descendants of wild races, still keep a trace of the old customs of their ancestors. Who does not know the anxious look with which a well-fed pet dog will dig a hole and bury a bone that he does not happen to want, as if he had an old age in the workhouse to dread? I have seen a little Yorkshire terrier go the round of the dinner-table, sit up and beg piteously, pretending that 'the smallest trifle is most thankfully received,' look carefully round, and, thinking that no one saw him, bury those trifles under the hearthrug, and return for more. The habit is not so common in cats, but I have known more than one puss do the same thing. One little tabby, found in the snow on my doorstep, would play with a piece of meat as if it were a mouse, make believe to kill it, and then hide it away under the edge of the carpet, with a great show of sniffing and scraping, as if to make sure that no other cat could scent it out. She had once been nearly starved, and so had learnt prudence.
A few small animals, the squirrel, field mouse, and dormouse, are store-keepers by nature. The larder is placed at a convenient distance from the nest in which these little animals sleep, and if forgotten, or accidentally left unused, the nuts, seeds, &c., often taken root and grow. Many a spreading chestnut, sturdy oak, and shady beech, to say nothing of hazel copse, owes life to these thrifty little folk, and thus the tiny woodlanders give back to nature a thousandfold more than they take. More than a bushel of raw potatoes was once found laid up by a water-rat in his winter cupboard, underground.
It is not every squirrel, however, that lays up a winter store. It seems that if that prudent little animal sees his way to a fair supply of food, or lives where human beings will provide victuals, he takes no such trouble. He is, at any rate, a good judge of nuts. A gardener who liked ripe filberts, and was looking forward to a fine crop in his plantation, found out that a squirrel in the neighbourhood liked them too, and knew how to 'sample' them better than himself. One day the master of the filbert-trees came to his wife with a happy air. 'I have done the squirrel this time, at all events,' said he; 'for I found a heap of filberts he had put together, all ready to carry off, little by little, and now when he returns he will find them gone.' Not a bit of it! Every nut was a bad one, which the knowing little rascal had tossed away in disgust, while he picked out all the good ones to eat or take home!
Edith Carrington.
A SHORT CONVERSATION.
The celebrated physician, Dr. Abernethy, was famous for the brevity and bluntness of his answers; he never used a word more than was necessary. One day a lady who knew his peculiarity came to him and held out her finger without a word.
'Cut?' asked the doctor.
'Bite,' answered the patient.
'Dog?'
'Parrot.'
'Go home and poultice,' said Abernethy.
The next day the finger was again shown.
'Better?' was the doctor's question.
'Worse.'
'Poultice again.'
Lastly, when the finger was at length cured, the doctor even went so far as to compliment his patient.
'Better?' he asked.
'Quite well.'
'Good. You are the most sensible woman I ever met. Good-day.'
WHAT INSECTS LOVE.
love,' said a Beetle,
'The Buttercups all.'
'And I,' quoth a Fly,
'Like the Daisies small.'
But a Humble Bee
Said, 'As for me,
My love is true
To the Cornflowers blue,
And Violets hid by a moss-grown wall.'
'All flowers I adore,'
Laughed a Butterfly;
And murmured a Wasp,
'Red Heather, say I.'
Then a grey Moth said,
'When you're all in bed,
I have the bliss
Of the Woodbine's kiss;
She waits for me when the day doth die.'
AFLOAT ON THE DOGGER BANK.
A Story of Adventure on the North Sea and in China.