THE OLD GUN.
'Mid the smoke and the heat of battle,
Where men fought for wrong or right,
'Mid the clash and the roar and the rattle,
Where fiercest raged the fight,
Stood the old gun,
Hurling his bolts of thunder
Into the ranks of those
Who dared to brave his anger,
Who dared to be his foes,
Dared face the gun.
'Mid the daisies and clover growing
On that long-ago battle plain,
Kissed by the soft winds, blowing
Over the graves of the slain,
Lies the old gun.
Around him frolic the children,
Noisy with innocent glee,
But silent and still he lies there,
Who helped make a nation free,
Asleep in the sun.
[COMPENSATION.]
BY GEORGE COOPER.
For every leaf of green,
A golden leaf;
For every fading flower,
A ripened sheaf.
For every parching beam,
A drop of rain;
For every sunny day,
The stars again.
For every warring wave,
A pretty shell;
For every sound of woe,
A joyous bell.
For every passing care,
A mother's kiss:
And what could better be,
Dear child, than this?
[AN ANCIENT TRAVELLER.]
BY ELLA RODMAN CHURCH.
The oldest book of travels in Asia that has been preserved was written by Marco Polo, an Italian, who was born nearly two hundred and fifty years before his famous countryman Christopher Columbus discovered America.
The father and uncle of Marco, who were merchants in Venice, had already been to China, then called Cathay, and spent some years at the court of the Emperor Khubla Khan, who became their warm friend. On their return to Venice they had many wonderful stories to tell of the mysterious country they had explored, and the strange sights and adventures they had met with; and two years afterward they started again on their travels, with letters and presents for the Chinese monarch from Pope Gregory X. Marco, then a young man of twenty, went with them on this journey.
They travelled over land and water and desert, and had many hardships and dangers to encounter; but finally they reached the city of Cambalu (which was discovered in the seventeenth century to be Pekin), after a journey of four years! When the Khan heard that they were coming, he sent people to meet them a month and a half before they arrived, and directed that they should be received with every possible honor.
At last they reached the royal city, and were conducted at once to the Khan, before whom they prostrated themselves, after the fashion of the country; then they were invited to a magnificent banquet. The throne, which stood on a platform at the head of the long table, sparkled and glittered with precious gems; and on this was seated the monarch of Cathay, sparkling and glittering likewise in his festal robes, with his four wives around him, and a long string of attendants for each of the ladies.
Everybody who was considered to be in good society in Cambalu was present at this feast of welcome to the returned travellers; and jewels, and plumes, and gold, and precious stones, and brilliant colors, and beautiful faces were mingled together in bewildering confusion. After the company had left the table, jugglers and acrobats and musicians were brought in to entertain them; and very likely the tired strangers were glad enough when it was all over, and they could retire in peace to the splendid palace that had been arranged with every imaginable luxury, and hosts of servants to wait upon them and do their bidding.
The next day they presented the generous monarch with the Pope's letter, and a small bottle filled with the oil used for the silver lamps in the chapel of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem. The Khan saw, from the reverent manner of the travellers, that this oil must possess rare virtues, and he received it with much gratitude. He was an intelligent man, and he asked many questions about their journey, and about matters and things in Europe, the Polos having become well acquainted with the Mongol language during their former stay, so that they could talk without an interpreter. His Royal Highness was particularly pleased with Marco, and said that he would give him an important position at once in his household.
The young man immediately began to study the language, laws, and customs of this strange country, that he might be able to perform the duties of his office, and the Khan soon had such confidence in him that he sent him on affairs of importance all over the empire.
It was in this way that Marco Polo learned so much about Cathay, and the book of travels which he wrote was read for a long time with the greatest interest. Now it is looked upon as an ancient relic; and the pictures are particularly funny. In one of them is a representation of the Khan in a portable room carried on the backs of four elephants, which are shaped very much like pigs, and have gorgeous rosettes on their backs, supposed to be intended for saddles. A crowd of people gaze with awe upon their sovereign as he is borne triumphantly along in this very novel manner, the front side of the room being open, so that all can see him.
Another picture, which is intended for an elephant hunt, represents the elephants shorter than the horses on which the hunters ride and shoot at them with bows and arrows—as though elephants would mind that!—while the trees seem to be growing on the elephants' backs.
Khubla Khan was at war with the sovereigns of the provinces south of his kingdom, and his friends the Polos were of great use to him by showing him how to make and use the European machines, called catapults, for hurling immense stones against the walls and towers of besieged cities. These were highly thought of before the invention of artillery.
The monarch was very much delighted, and as soon as the machines were ready he sent the learned Venetians to head a fresh attack upon the important city of Sa-yan-fu. The banner of Khubla Khan was soon waving above the crushed walls, and the Polos were liberally rewarded with wealth and honors. Marco, who was the Khan's especial favorite, was made a noble of the empire, with a more magnificent palace and a larger retinue than ever.
After spending seventeen years of this exciting life, the Polos longed to see their native city again; but the monarch, who was now an old man, would not consent to part with them. Fortunately, however, for the homesick visitors, the Khan's granddaughter was to marry the King of Persia, and started on her journey to that country; but after travelling for eight months, the Princess and her attendants found that many of the provinces through which they had to pass were at war, and they turned back to Cambalu.
The Polos, seizing this opportunity of escape, promised to convey the bridal party safely by sea; and the Khan agreed to let them go, on condition of their returning to him again after a short visit home. Among the monarch's parting gifts were caskets of magnificent rubies and other precious gems.
It was eighteen months before they reached Ormuz, and during that time two or three of the envoys and six hundred of the Princess's attendants had died. The Persian bridegroom was dead also, and so was the monarch of Cathay, Khubla Khan.
The Polos now were freed from their promise to return; and after staying nine months in Persia—for they liked to explore every place at which they stopped—they started on their long journey to Venice. They arrived there in safety, after an absence of twenty-four years; and at first no one would believe that these outlandish-looking travellers were the real Polos. But they soon proved their identity, and became known far and wide as the most wonderful travellers of the time.
Marco was a prisoner in Genoa for four years, after a battle with the Genoese, and he amused himself during this dreary period by writing an account of his travels and his life at the court of the Khan.
[FROG-CATCHING.]
BY A. W. ROBERTS.
When a man dwelling in the Drowned Lands of Canonoque, Canada, is capable of accumulating a small fortune by catching frogs for the New York market, surely some of our young people who are now spending their vacations near the shores of our lakes, rivers, and ponds ought also to make considerable pocket-money, if not as large a fortune as that of Pat Bowman, of the Drowned Lands, who follows up the frogs from early spring until late in the fall.
It is not only the pocket-money that is to be picked up, but while on the frog-hunts many lessons are to be learned in aquatic natural history. Then there is the fun of the thing. It's fun to get sunburned, and have a brand-new skin at the end of a week to attend church in. It's fun to step into a bumble-bees' nest, and have the bees chase you until you are only too glad to take refuge in the water, where they can't find you out. And it's fun to break through a musk-rat or turtle run, and to have your companions pull you out covered with black peat; then come the washing out of your clothes, and hanging them in the sun to dry; and while they are drying, then the sand-flies and mosquitoes come swarming about you in clouds, until in sheer desperation you conclude to do as the cows do—stand in the water and splash. And after you have stood in the water a few minutes, you find the horse-leeches and boat-flies have discovered you have legs, and are having a feast on them. By this time your clothing is dry. All this sort of experience was fun to me when I was a boy, and I often sigh for those happy days to return.
At the age of thirteen I became a frog-catcher. I discovered there was a demand in Fulton and Washington markets for frogs' legs, and that the price paid for them, as they ran, large and small (not very, very small), was one dollar and a half per hundred. But here was the trouble: how could I manage to keep the frogs alive and healthy until I had one hundred of them ready for market? At last I hit upon a plan, which was no less than to construct a pond in our then very large garden, and plant it with pond-lilies, sweet-flag, and cat-tails; in fact, to make it as picturesque as possible. To have the pond hold water, the bottom and sides were lined with clay to the depth of half a foot. To fill the pond we made a series of wooden gutters that connected with the garden pump. Every night we pumped and pumped, until we thought the old pump would surely go dry.
In our house lived a blind sea-captain; he was a bright, kind-hearted, good-natured old gentleman. He could navigate all over our large garden without tramping down the smallest radish, and as for thinning out carrots and beets, he could do it beautifully; he knew every weed by touch and smell. He was just as good as good could be, and all we boys thought the world of him, and he thought we were the best boys ever born. Now the captain liked everything in nature that had a voice, such as birds, crickets, locusts, katydids, and tree-toads, with which we kept the garden well supplied, so that at night there was nearly a full orchestra of nature's musicians. On bass, basso, and basso-profundo we were short, but knew full well that as soon as the intended inhabitants for the pond were secured, those voices of the night would be forthcoming.
The first frogs we captured were taken with a scap-net toward evening, when they drew near the shore to feed, and to secure them we tied them by their hind-legs to a string. One evening we discovered a frog by his voice, which was that of a pure basso-profundo, and in strength that of three bull-calves in one. His home was in a small ditch of water, which, the minute approached, he would plunge into, and was lost to sight. By the great splash he made we knew that he must be a monster of a bull-frog. Night after night we tried to capture him, but failed. At last we determined to devote one entire Saturday to his capture.
There was one particular spot on the side of the ditch where he always sat when taking a sun-bath, but the minute he caught sight of us, in he would plunge, and disappear for an hour's time. At first we imagined he dived down into the deep mud bottom, and remained there until he thought all was quiet, or that we were gone away.
DIGGING OUT THE BIG FROG.
At last, by mere accident, we discovered his secret hiding-place to be a musk-rat hole, the entrance of which connected directly with the water of the ditch, so that all he had to do was to make a strong and long dive for the musk-rat hole, and he was safe every time. The only way left was to secure the entrance to the hole with a net, and then to go after him with spades and shovels and dig him out; which we did, and wasn't he a beauty? He weighed over a pound, and must have been seven or eight years old. After being in the pond a week, one bright moonlight night he condescended to join in with the other musicians.
We greatly increased the power of our orchestra by adding twenty-five common toads, which in the breeding season frequent the water, and are very noisy, and also one hundred of the shrill-piping Hylodes, or tree-toads, and two screech-owls, which were kept in separate cages at different parts of the garden, so that all night long they were calling to one another.
At the end of every two weeks one of the four members of the "Great Long Island Frog Company" took to market from two hundred to two hundred and fifty live frogs, for which was received a dollar and a half per hundred. In course of time sufficient capital was accumulated to purchase four hundred breeding gold-fish with which to stock the pond, so that on the second year we were marketing live frogs and gold-fish. All this happened many years ago, but the traffic in bull-frogs and bull-frogs' legs has been growing steadily, until it has attained wonderful proportions, as the following statements will show:
It is estimated by good judges that no less than fifteen hundred-weight of frogs' legs are sent to the New York market every year. New York State, New Hampshire, Maine, Pennsylvania, and the Canadas are the principal sources of supply. There is one dealer who has agents catching and purchasing frogs in all the above-named places.
Frog-catching begins early in the spring, and lasts until late in the fall. The frogs are caught without bait, all the tackle used being a rod or pole cut in the woods, to which is fastened a short and stout line. On the end of the line is fastened a broad stout hook. When a frog is discovered, the "froggist" drops the hook under the jaw of the frog, and with a quick jerk Mr. Frog flies up into the air, and is taken from off the hook, and placed in a bag. The frogs think the hook is alive, and snatch at it eagerly. Sometimes a frog, when the hook tickles his nose or passes over one of his ears, will lose his temper, and make a terrible lunge at it. I have seen old frogs lose their tempers entirely, so that the minute they caught sight of the end of the pole they would jump clear out of the water, and bite at it fiercely. A frog will never bite at anything when under water, as he is afraid to open his large mouth from fear of drowning. A frog kept entirely in the water, with nothing to rest on, will in course of time drown. When the hook is ornamented with a piece of red flannel, the frogs will jump for it several feet. Frogs bite best on warm, sunny days. When fishing for frogs at night, a reflector or bull's-eye is fastened at the bow of the boat. The bright light seems to daze the frogs to an extent that admits of their easy capture.
The frogs, when caught, are placed in cages made of laths or slats; the cages are about five feet long by four feet wide, and one foot in height. These cages are placed half in the water and half on land; the bottoms of the cages having a slight inclination, to allow the frogs to leave the water when so disposed. After being caged for a few days, they will begin to take food. Their favorite food is young frogs, small live fish, insects, mice, and angle-worms. All of these must have life and motion, or the frogs will not eat them. Many attempts have been made to breed frogs artificially, but so far all have failed. The principal trouble seems to be the difficulty of obtaining natural food in sufficient quantities to prevent the old frogs from devouring their young, which they will do on all occasions. Again, the young frog, from the tadpole stage up to the perfect frog, is surrounded by enemies night and day—aquatic birds, turtles, lizards, snakes, leeches, insects, fish, water-rats, and, worst of all, his own relations. A female frog at five years of age will produce over a thousand eggs every year. Out of the thousand eggs not more than twenty-five ever attain over two years' growth, so constant is the warfare of their enemies.
There are two ways of preparing the frogs' legs for market. One is known as the Canadian style (see figure), which consists of leaving part of the back of the frog attached to the legs; this is done to make weight. The other is the Philadelphia style, wherein the legs are cut off close to the end of the back, or spine, after the legs have been skinned. In the figure the dotted line A A shows the Philadelphia style, which always brings the highest price. The legs are packed in half-barrels between layers of crushed ice, and will average from fifty to seventy-five pounds to the half-barrel. The prices paid for frogs' legs vary from twenty to sixty cents per pound, which is governed by the season of the year, the demand, and the supply. At the leading hotels—Delmonico's, for instance—seventy-five cents is the regular price per plate for cooked frogs' legs all the year round.
The method of cooking the legs is as follows. After the legs have been thoroughly washed, they are dried in a towel; they are then dipped in beaten eggs, and rolled in powdered cracker, after which they are fried in very hot lard or butter until slightly brown, and are served up with fine herbs and mushrooms stewed in butter.
Now it seems to me, as I said before, that the boys have a chance to make considerable pocket-money on frogs' legs. If I was still a boy, I would enter into an agreement with two or three of the largest and best-paying hotels to supply them with legs, fresh caught (remember, that's a big advantage you would have over the New York market), at just a few cents per pound below the prevailing market prices during the season. There is no reason, when you are out frogging, why you should not capture a few trout also.
THE BOOT-BLACK'S SHOWER-BATH.