[to be continued.]
"KEEP STEP, KEEP STEP: ONE, TWO, THREE—ONE, TWO, THREE."
HOW THE GEESE SAVED THE BABY.
BY MRS. L. G. MORSE.
John Evans was raking hay in a field on the south side of his cottage, while his wife was in the dairy printing butter for market. Little Elsy, their two-year-old baby, was playing with blocks on the sitting-room floor, and old Robin Hood, the dog, was asleep on the grass close by the door that opened on the lawn.
The sky was almost cloudless, and the sun blazed warm in the fields.
"Just the weather to make the corn grow," said John Evans, resting a quarter of a minute, and looking contentedly over the wall at his flourishing corn blades, already two good inches at least above those of his rich neighbor, Mr. Haverly.
"Elsy is safe," said Barbara, the trim little house-maid. "I might as well knead up the bread." And she whisked through the sitting-room so fast, and with so little noise, that Elsy only looked up to see if a bird had flown in over the low half-door.
Tired of her blocks at last, Elsy went and tugged at the door, and made the latch rattle. Robin opened one eye—the one toward the house—and half-cocked an ear. But Elsy kept up the rattle long enough for him to get used to it, and drawing his tail closer under his nose, he ceased paying any attention to the child. He knew she was behind the door. He had done his full duty by standing on his hind-legs against it, and looking to see what she was about before he settled himself for his nap. She rattled the latch every day, but she had never been able to lift it—he needn't have that on his mind. So, by-and-by, when the crown of her little white head showed itself above the door, Robin was dozing away, more sleepy than ever.
She had pushed her block-box close to the sill, and stepped on it to take another view of the latch. For Elsy was enterprising, and had no more idea than have other two-year-old babies of remaining in ignorance of any new and untried danger. Of course she succeeded at last, and so easily that she pushed the door open and let herself backward down the steps without waking the dog.
The oldest mother goose in the barn-yard was as energetic as Elsy. She quacked about among her neighbors until she collected the whole flock, and then matronized them down to the big shallow pond in front of the house. They pottered a good deal on the way among mud-puddles, for there had been a shower the night before.
Dame Evans pottered too in the dairy, but that was because pretty Miss Ruth Haverly called to bespeak some of the butter before it should be sent to market, and was trying her hands at the printing. Very soft white hands they were, and Mrs. Evans enjoyed watching them.
"There," she said, "that one is a beauty!" as Ruth turned one of the yellow balls into a dish. But she never would have allowed anybody else to meddle so with her butter. A spot on the dairy shelf would have been as great a crime as a speck on the snow-white kerchief crossed on her bosom. But no thought would she have taken of the butter, nor even of dainty Miss Ruth, had she known what Elsy was doing. Nor would Barbara have cared so much about the bread. She was singing, and did not hear Elsy fumbling with the door-latch.
But the child had trotted by Robin Hood, down the long path, all the way to the river, and was so pleased at the feat that she laughed aloud. It was the first chance she had ever had to get alone to the river. Somebody had always been on hand to pull her away just in time to save her feet from touching the water. Now they touched it in comfort, and little cool ripples washed over the toes of her stockings—she had pulled her shoes off long ago in the house. She ran up and down the edge of the water a few times, and then began picking up sticks and stray leaves to throw into it. Higher and higher her spirits rose with the sport. If it had not been for Barbara's song, Robin would surely have heard Elsy shout. But Robin was lazy in his old age, and was actually snoring. Elsy spied a pretty goose-feather, and gave it a toss. The breeze carried it farther out on the water than the small maid intended. But she was fearless, and catching at some cat-tails growing on the bank, she waded in after her feather.
THE RESCUE.—Drawn by H. P. Share.
She stumbled over the uneven bottom, and the stones hurt her soft little feet. Down she went, head and all under water, just as the geese came, ready at last for their swim. When they saw Elsy splashing about, they thought she was trespassing. Or perhaps they understood perfectly well that the river, although safe for them, was a dangerous place for the innocent baby. Who knows? Certain it was that as Elsy went down under the water, the geese flapped their wings, and made a tremendous racket. They made such a noise as never had been heard in the place before. They wakened old Robin at last, and brought him quick as a flash to his post of duty. Oh, he could make noise enough then, to be sure! He could tear round the house like a hurricane, dash down the path and into the water, seize little Elsy's dress, and hold her head above the surface until her father came to the rescue, plunged into the river, and in another minute had borne his darling safely to land. Her bright eyes were closed, and her form lay quite senseless against her father's bosom, while Robin looked up to be sure she was safe, and Barbara ran terrified from the house, her singing silenced at last.
But Elsy opened her eyes again before long. Joy greeted the little life saved, and the mother half smothered old Robin with kisses, in spite of his dripping coat, which utterly ruined her kerchief.
John Evans and his good dame would never have cheated a mouse of its due, yet they petted and honored old Robin as long as he lived, and told children and grandchildren hundreds of times how it was he saved Elsy, when, as sure as anything, the whole credit was due to the geese.
We have received a large number of letters from our young readers asking for stamps, leaves, flowers, and other things; but unless they offer some suitable equivalent in exchange, which they must specify in the letter, we can not print such requests.
The cooking club is broken up. We are assured that the disbandment is not on account of any bad feeling among the members, neither for lack of interest, but that the sole reason is the whooping-cough! As we have already given enough recipes to render our young housekeepers skillful bread, cake, and candy makers, if they try them all, we shall not print any after the present number. If any of you wish to give a tea party to your little friends, by using the recipes sent by the little readers of Harper's Young People you can prepare with your own hands a very inviting supper, for you could wish for nothing nicer than hot pop-overs, little cakes, and candy.
Baltimore, Maryland.
I am almost ten years old, and I weigh fifty-seven pounds. My greatest pleasure is in reading Harper's Young People. My papa subscribed for it, beginning with the first number. I read the nice stories over and over again. I like my paper better than any present I ever received, and look forward with great joy to every Wednesday, when it comes.
How I wish I could tell all the boys and girls in this city what a good paper it is! I would like to get one thousand new subscribers. It is such nice print, and the stories are so plainly told that any little boy can understand them. Good-by.
Willie F. L.
New York City.
I take Young People, and I think it is the nicest paper I ever read.
I have a very cunning little poodle dog for a pet. He will stand up in a corner, and hold a cane in his paws, and a pipe in his mouth.
Frank B. W.
Worcester, Massachusetts.
My friend Ethel has a parrot that her father brought from South America. He is a very funny bird. One day Ethel went into the room where he was, and he said, "Ethel, Ethel." She did not answer, and after waiting a moment the parrot said, "What?" as if to remind her to answer him. He talks mostly in Spanish, but has learned a good many English words since he came to this country. He laughs so loud sometimes that a person can not talk in the room with him.
I like Young People very much indeed. My brother was interested in "Old Times in the Colonies," and hopes there will be some more Indian stories.
Olive R.
Pineville, Missouri.
I send you my brother's way of making beautiful soap-bubbles: Take a basin of either warm or cold water, and mix with it a quantity of country-made soap. Then take a piece of hollow pumpkin vine about a foot long, and place one end of it in the basin and one in the mouth, and blow.
Wroton K.
Whitehall, Illinois.
I take Harper's Young People, and I think it is the best paper published.
I have some minnows which I feed on bits of bread and meat. They are so tame that when I go to feed them, they will come up and eat from my fingers.
Norman W. J.
Moberly, Missouri.
We have a big dog named Jack. He is the biggest dog in town. He weighs over one hundred pounds, and he is very intelligent.
Mamma found a queer worm the other day. Its eyes were green, and it was green all over. It had yellow bunches on its back with prickles on them, and on its sides were blue spots. Papa took it down town, but nobody knew what it was. I wish some correspondent could tell me its name.
Maggie P. B.
Brooklyn, New York.
I have three turtles. The smallest one I can cover with a twenty-five-cent piece. It sometimes stays under water over thirteen minutes.
I would like to tell Jessie B., whose letter was in No. 33, that she must put her turtle in water deep enough to half cover it; and when she feeds it, she must put one end of the worm in the water, and whenever the turtle snaps for it, she must lift it up, until, after a while, the turtle will take it from her hand.
I like the story of "The Moral Pirates" the best of all. I am ten years old.
W. G.
Mount Pleasant, New York.
I am having a very nice time up here among the Catskills. I go fishing very often, and always have very good luck. I am also hunting for birds' eggs, and have collected a large number.
We are entirely surrounded by the mountains, one of which I have already ascended, and was rewarded by a beautiful view of the surrounding country.
Through exchange with the readers of Young People I have received a great many eggs. I hope all the correspondents are enjoying their vacation as well as I am mine.
I. Quackenboss.
Boston, Massachusetts.
Since I wrote to Young People I have received and exchanged so many specimens! I am delighted. Last week my papa helped me, and we sent twenty-three boxes of ocean curiosities to different parts of the United States.
I have all sorts of beautiful things. One of them is a live bat that is so tame that he will eat from my hand, and does not offer to fly away.
I get something new nearly every day from some of the subscribers of Young People. I think it is the nicest paper I ever saw.
"Wee Tot" Brainard.
Wrights, California.
I am eleven years old, and I live in the Santa Cruz Mountains. Sometimes we are above the clouds. When it is clear, we can see the bay, and the ships coming in.
There are deep gulches here, full of trees and moss and fern. Wild-cats, wolves, and California lions live here, and they often steal our chickens. We dare not go far from the house at night. From this you would think that it is a very wild country, but it is not, and there are a great many people living here. The animals live in the gulches, and only come out at night when we are asleep.
I have taken Young People from the first number.
Jessie N.
Vienna, New Jersey.
I had a little kitten. I stroked it one day, and it followed me down to an ash-barrel, where it went smelling round as if it was hungry. Then I went up the street a little way to where a girl was sweeping, and I asked her if it was her kitten. She said it was, but she was going to give it away. I asked her to give it to me, and she did. Then I took it home, and fed it on milk. As soon as I brought the milk up stairs it began lapping it as fast as its little tongue could go. I brought it to the country with me in a little basket, and about two weeks afterward it died. I was very, very sorry, for it was my only pet. It would lie on its back under the centre table, and play with a string.
I am only six years old, and I can not write very well yet.
Charlie J. P.
Reidsville, North Carolina.
I am ten years old. My papa takes Young People for me, and Harper's Weekly for mamma. I live in a tobacco-manufacturing town. There are about two thousand negroes employed in the factories.
I have three little dogs for pets—two rat terriers and a little yellow dog. Their names are Minnie, Whitefoot, and Ka.
I had a present of a large book-case filled with books, from my grandpa, who lives in Richmond, but I like to read Young People best of all.
Willie W.
Linwood, Kansas.
My brother made me a present of Young People for a year. I never saw such a nice little paper before. I think there is nothing like it. I can not tell which is the best story, for all of them are so good. I can hardly wait for Wednesday to come, for that is the day I get my paper.
I have a kitty that is almost white. It will run right up a smooth wall.
I am eleven years old. I live in the country, and I go to school when there is any.
Leonie Y.
Atlanta, Georgia.
I think Young People is the nicest little paper I have ever read. I like the story of "Across the Ocean" best of all.
The 1st of July I read a letter from Canada, in the Post-office Box, saying that strawberries were just ripening. That seemed so funny to me, for they had been all gone for ever so long here. I feel so sorry for the Canadians, and for all people who live in cold countries, for it is so cold there in winter.
We have taken Young People ever since the first number. Papa takes all of Harper's periodicals.
Lizzie E. H.
Boonville, Indiana.
I live in the southern part of this State, and I go to school when the school is open. I have not taken Young People very long, but I like it so much I can scarcely wait till it comes.
I had a pet goat, but I sold it, and now I have a very handsome redbird that my grandpa gave me. Its name is Bob. Papa made me a martin box last spring, but the bluebirds took possession of it. The English sparrows come on our porch, and eat the wheat Bob drops from his cage.
George G. S.
Boston, Massachusetts.
I am seven years old, and I am going to write this and spell it all myself.
I have a little dog, and he will beg, and he will jump through a hoop.
We do not have far to go to school, because it is in the next house to ours. I have been to school one year and a half.
Edith G. H.
Decatur, Texas.
I have been taking Young People ever since Christmas, and I want to put a letter in the Post-office Box to say how very much I like to read it.
I am nine years old. I have been going to school about seven months, but now it is vacation, and I have time to play with all my pets.
I wish all the little boys and girls in the United States could read Young People.
Blanche S.
Fort Missoula, Montana Territory.
Here is a recipe for sponge-cake: One cup of fine white sugar; three eggs; beat the sugar and eggs together till they are white; then add one table-spoonful of milk and one cup of flour. Do not beat up after mixing in the flour, as it will make the cake heavy. Bake about twenty minutes in a quick oven. My big sister makes this just as light as it can be.
Julia G.
Parkville, Long Island.
Here is a recipe for pop-overs: Three doll's cups of flour; two of milk; one egg; one salt-spoonful of baking powder; half a salt-spoonful of salt. Bake in patty-pans fifteen minutes in a quick oven. Break open and butter, and eat while hot.
I like the engravings in Young People, especially "The Little Miser," and "Kitty, you can't have my Apple." I have a kitty named Netty.
Emmie R.
I get Harper's Young People every week, and I think it is the best paper for boys and girls.
I am collecting postage stamps, and would like to exchange with any of the readers.
John Dolune,
109 South St. Clair Street, Dayton, Ohio.
I am spending the summer here in the country, although I live in Cambridge. I would like to exchange birds' eggs and nests with any readers of Young People.
George L. Osgood, Jun.,
P. O. Box 38, Dublin, New Hampshire.
I have a great variety of United States International Revenue stamps, and would like to exchange them for others.
Frank Lynn,
1 Pemberton Square, Room No. 4, Boston, Mass.
Papa has taken Young People for me for several months, and I like it so much. I think "The Moral Pirates" is very interesting, only it is a great wonder that those boys do not get drowned. The story about Frank Austin was splendid, but it was not long enough.
I am eleven years old. I live one mile from town. My brother has a large farm here. I have some of the prettiest little ducks you ever saw, and the most playful little kitten in the world. Kitty will run up my back and go to sleep on my shoulder.
I would like to exchange flower seeds with some little girl. I have a pretty lily that is in bloom now. It is called lily-of-the-Nile.
Jessie Lee,
Lewisville, Lafayette County, Arkansas.
I am making a collection of birds' eggs, and would like to exchange with any of the correspondents of Young People. I have eggs of the robin, cat-bird, bluebird, king-bird, brown thrush, orchard oriole, and of several kinds of sparrows.
August Pilger,
172 East One-hundred-and-thirteenth Street, New York City.
L. M. Fobes writes to us that by exchange with the readers of Young People he has added more than two hundred new postage stamps to his collection. If he wishes to obtain any more United States, German, English, or Mexican stamps, Theodore Dreyfus, 255 St. Mary's Street, New Orleans, Louisiana, a little boy nine years old, would be glad to exchange with him.
I have a very nice collection of insects, and would like to exchange with some one living in the South, or any other distant locality.
Kittie Weaver,
Villa Park, Mankato, Minnesota.
S. E. Thomas.—You can make a heated-air toy balloon with tissue-paper, a very light wire hoop with a cross piece, and a sponge. Cut your paper in shape like a lengthened quarter of orange peel, and after pasting the edges firmly together, joining them only at one end, paste the open end around the wire hoop. Soak the sponge with as much alcohol or turpentine as it will hold, and after fastening it securely to the cross piece of the hoop, light it, and the balloon will soon expand with the heated air, and rise. If you make the balloon of colored tissue-paper, and it rises while the sponge is still burning, the effect at night is very pretty. A bunch of tow might be used in place of a sponge.
Sadie McB.—We think the address given by the correspondent you wish to exchange with is sufficient. Write, and you will probably receive an answer.
Ed. S. K.—In Young People No. 23 you will find full directions for building a sloop-yacht.
Charles K.—The recipe for butter-scotch was in the Post-office Box of Young People No. 37.
Ford M. G.—The specimen you send is a sphinx moth, of which there are several varieties in the United States.
F. W. B.—You can obtain the numbers of Young People you wish by sending one dollar and fourteen cents to the publishers.
Brownie.—A salt-water turtle feeds upon the tough stems of sea-weeds, and upon crustacea and very small mollusks, but it might eat bits of bread and meat, or insects.
George H. K.—We doubt if you could make a microscope which would be as cheap or as satisfactory as one already manufactured. Microscopes may be bought at all prices.
Favors are acknowledged from Mary C. Hodges, Clare A. Howe, Amy Piper, Mabel C. C., Nellie W. Edson, M. C. S., Carrie Taylor, Mart Seeds, Lidie B. D., George A. C., Thomas S., H. S. K., Margarets M. and W., Allie M. B., George Paul, Clara S. A., Angie and Anna W., C. Hegemin, Orrin D. Bradford, Mattie Murphy, Josie Parcher, Bertie Jones, Bertha F. H., Charles A. H., E. I. R., Frank Boucher, Stella M. S., Mary E. Paine, Victoria Gregory.
Correct answers to puzzles are received from Wroton Kenny, A. H. Ellard, James C. Smith, Philip P. Cruger, Bertie Bassett, Daisy Balch, Harry C. and Shelton H., C. M., E. A. Cartereau, L. M. Fobes, Mary C. Spaulding, H. M. P., Fanny Squire, Willie Murphy, "Capt. Frank," R. H. King, Marion E. Norcross, G. Volckhausen, Gracie Kelley, Henry M. Western, Frank Merry, Jennie Edwards.
PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.
No. 1.
ENIGMA.
My first is in ducat, my second in gold.
My third is in courage, my fourth is in bold.
My fifth is in whimper; my sixth is in scream.
My seventh is in thinking, my eighth is in dream.
My ninth is in acorn, my tenth is in seed.
My eleventh is in hunger, my twelfth is in need.
My thirteenth is in silence, my fourteenth in death.
My fifteenth is in living, my sixteenth in breath.
You may spell out my name, you may have me in view,
But I'm still an enigma to all but a few.
Lottie.