BRIGHT YOUNG CONTRIBUTOR.
Why, seventeen Cupids went wild with despair
When Valentine's Day left each solus,
So they picked off the flowers and hung themselves there,
On the stalk of a tall gladiolus.
[FUN AND FACTS FOR LITTLE FOLKS.]
"How does a hardware dealer differ from a bootmaker?" asked a bright boy of one of his playmates. The latter, somewhat puzzled, gave it up. "Why," said the other, "because the one sold the nails, and the other nailed the soles."
Little Lucy fell and hurt her knee badly, which her mother, when she went to bed in the dark, tried to bandage. Soon the little one was heard calling. "Mamma," she said, "this bandage is not in the right place. I fell down higher up."
A grandfather, coming to read his paper, found that he had mislaid his spectacles, and thereupon declared, "I have lost my glasses somewhere, and can't read the paper." A little three-and-a-half-year-old girl, desiring to assist him, answered; "G'an'pa, you go outside and look froo ze window, and I'll hold ze paper up so you can read it."
A "Menagerie Race" was recently the source of great amusement to a party of army officers in India. Each competitor had an animal to enter, which he drove as straight as he could. There was a frog, a goose, a young pig, a cock, a cat, a dog, a turkey, a kid, a duck, a young monkey, and a pelican. The latter got away from his string and flew up into a high tree just as the race was going to begin. The animals had ribbons round their necks. The goose won the race, as he was the only one who went straight; the dog made for the pig, and a battle-royal ensued; the monkey and the cat laid down and would not move a step. It was a very amusing scene, so say the spectators, and the curious antics of the astonished animals caused a vast amount of laughter.
We had a parrot once which knew how to talk so well that it seemed as if he must certainly be able to think and reason as well as any of us. Two instances may be given to show what Polly could do in the way of conversation: One fine summer's morning, a young woman bringing a message to the house was asked into the kitchen, and while, as she supposed, quite alone there, a rather gruff voice remarked that it was "a very hot day," which it certainly was. As she did not know the parrot was there, she was considerably startled, and would scarcely believe it was the bird which had spoken to her. Another day Polly's cage was hung up on a tree near the poultry-yard, where a fight for supremacy was going on between two cocks, and the gardener, who was at work hard by, distinctly heard Polly say, "You idiots! Bran" (calling to the big dog which lay asleep in his kennel)—"Bran, bite them! bite them!"
Who could have believed that even among the famous riders of Hungaria would be found one who could perform the following feat? While a noble stag of ten was being hotly chased by the Kàposzátsmegyerer hounds—a subscription pack—one Karl Pörös, a discharged hussar, managed to bring the terrified animal to a stand-still in some close cover through which it was forcing its way, and, by an almost superhuman effort of strength and agility, to vault upon its back. After several desperate but unsuccessful attempts to dislodge its rider from his seat, the stag, stimulated anew to flight by the cry of the fast-approaching hounds, resumed its course, but it soon broke down under the weight of its unaccustomed burden, and died from sheer exhaustion and terror. Pörös—at least so the story goes—was found by the huntsmen sitting on the unwounded carcass of the stag, which he had literally ridden to death and resolutely claimed as the just reward of an achievement, unprecedented in the annals of the chase.
[A NOVEL CHAIR-SLEIGH.]
Fig. 1.
Fig. 2
Here is a design of a chair-sleigh, which can easily be constructed, and which will enable some of the ladies who do not skate to have a very pleasant time on the ice. The runners (see Fig. 1) are thirty-nine inches long, and are shod with iron for their whole length. They are about thirteen inches apart, and are braced in three places, namely, at the back, at the front, and in the middle (directly under the front legs of the seat). The foot-boards are two inches wide by five-eighths of an inch thick. The seat is about fifteen inches square, and strengthened underneath before and behind. The legs of the seat are fifteen inches high, and are fastened to the runners and the seat by hinges, which allow the seat to fall forward over the foot-board, as shown in Fig. 2. In like manner the long arms, instead of being firmly fixed, work on a round iron rod, about a quarter of an inch in diameter, connecting the runners in front. The arms are fifty inches long, and are mortised into the back piece, which is twenty-five inches long by two inches and seven-eighths wide, thus leaving a few inches at each end for handles. The arms are connected by a cross-piece in such a position that when the seat is perpendicular, the cross-piece shall rest upon little brackets placed on the front legs. This cross-piece has a screw-hole in it, by which it is screwed to the front brace of the seat, thus firmly securing the whole.
To fold the chair for carrying to and from the pond, draw the screw and raise the arms, and the seat will fall forward between the arms and under the cross-piece, as shown in Fig. 2. The advantages of this chair-sleigh over an ordinary chair on runners are that it is perfectly safe, does not interfere with the action of the skater who is pushing it, and can be easily carried in the hand or in a carriage.
[PINKETY WINK.]
Miss Pinkety Wink she had eyes that would blink,
And small feet that turned out at the toes;
She had neat little hands, hair braided in bands,
And her cheeks they were red as a rose,
And she always was dressed in fine clothes.
Miss Pinkety Wink, I am sure you will think,
Was a very nice Dolly indeed;
She was pretty and still, and she never got ill,
For the doctor there never was need;
To her mistress she always gave heed.
But Pinkety Wink (I'm afraid you will sink
When I tell you how sad was her fate),
For an airing gone out, and while riding about
In her fine little carriage in state,
It turned over, oh, sad to relate!
Poor Pinkety Wink, with her eyes that would blink,
From her shoulders had dropped off her head!
Little Carrie, she cried, while vainly she tried
Her dear Dolly to mend; then she said,
"I'm afraid my sweet Pinkey is dead!"
Now what do you think? Well, Pinkety Wink
She carried right straight to mamma,
Who melted some glue, and made her quite new;
And now Carrie is laughing, "Ha! ha!
Was there ever so nice a mamma?"
HOMELESS.
Last week we had Valentine's Day, and this week brings us a holiday of a different kind. Americans celebrate Washington's Birthday because that great and good man was our leader in the war for our separate existence as a nation. Many of you study the history of your country at school, and so you have learned that George Washington was born February 22, 1732. His father died when he was only eleven, but he had a good mother, and he early learned to honor her in all things. We have not room to tell you much about Washington's boyhood, but one thing we will say, because you little folks who are going to school may imitate George in this particular: his copy-books were always as neat and clean as possible, and are models of beautiful writing. You see, he was conscientious in little things. Now if you want to refresh your memories about the French and Indian War, the Revolution, and the early days of our Independence, you can not do better than to begin reading those portions of our history in the week that brings Washington's Birthday.
Brooklyn, New York.
I have three pet cats, but Mr. Tibbs is the wisest. One morning it was so cold there was ice on the window so that you could not see out, and Tibbie is very fond of looking out of the window; so, as he could not see, he took his tongue and licked a place big enough for him to look out. It was so cunning. He is a very high jumper. Every meal-time all the cats come around Mr. Tibbs, and then he cries for all of them. He is very large, and weighs sixteen pounds.
I go to school, and learn music, and I am very fond of it. When I grow older, I am going to take singing lessons and lessons on the organ. I also have my dolls. I have a large French doll, which has everything like a little girl. Then my baby is very sweet, with big brown eyes and golden curls. My French doll has blue eyes, and dark brown hair, like myself; I also have brown eyes. I have been a constant reader of your paper ever since it was published. I have a dear little turtle which is as large as a quarter of a dollar, but he sleeps all the time now.
Nettie M. T.
Washington, D. C.
I am a little girl just nine years old, and I am the only girl my papa and mamma have got, and the only grand-girl my two grandpapas and one grandmamma has, too, but I tell you he has lots of grand-boys, though.
I have four little brothers, all younger than I am, and once we had some cows, and Harvie—that's one of my brothers, who is eight—came running into the house, and told our nurse, Buty, he was "afraid to go out into the yard where the married cow was"—he meant the one that had the calf. Everybody laughed so much when mamma told them, and I have read some things not any funnier than that, so I thought it would be a nice thing to put in my letter to you. Harvie says I must put how old he was then, because you all might think he did it when he was eight. He was nearly four when he was frightened so badly. My aunts in Virginia take Harper's Young People for us, and Harvie, Lewis, and I like it ever so much. Lewis is just five, and wears pants, too. Maurice sits up and looks as though he knew what mamma was reading; but he don't, though. Isn't this a long one? I did not write it all the same day. If you can, I wish you would please copy this in the paper you send Harvie, Lewis, and me. I don't see many letters from Washington. Harvie says he just bets you won't.
Serena Helen S.
Oh, Harvie boy, you shouldn't bet, especially when you bet so foolishly. Rena's letter is "copied" right here by the types, and now we shall be expecting, one of these days, another letter from Rena's brother.
Keokuk, Iowa.
I am a little girl almost six years and a half old. I think Young People is the nicest paper published. Papa and auntie have read every number to me since the first. My dear mamma is in heaven, and I live at grandpa's with my auntie. Papa comes to see me three times a day, and every Friday he stays all night with me. Young People comes that night, and papa reads it to me. I think Jimmy Brown's stories are so funny. I liked "Lady Rags" so much! Then I thought I would try and help the poor, too. The Christmas number was very nice! After I read my paper I send it out to my grandma in the country; they have no little children there, but they like it ever so much. I have the nicest play-house; it is built out in the yard, is furnished like a big house, and will hold six or eight grown people. I have so many dolls that I can not tell you all about them. Yesterday I felt so badly! I took my newest doll out to walk; it was a gentleman, and I called it Frank, after my papa. I let it fall, and broke its head all to pieces. But papa got me another right away, just like the first. I have a kitty named after Toby Tyler. I do not go to school, but I study at home. I can spell very well, and print, but can not write yet, so my auntie is writing this for me. We read all the letters in Young People, and like them very much. I sometimes see the names of those who send money for the Young People's Cot; if I knew how to send it, I would send some also. I am getting a collection of picture cards. I have over four hundred now. Will you please publish this, for I have never seen a letter from Keokuk.
Lulu W.
We are glad you have a kind auntie and a dear loving father and grandma, since God has taken your mamma to live in the home above. About sending money to Young People's Cot, it is very simple. You need merely write a little letter, inclose your money, and address it to Miss E. Augusta Fanshawe, 43 New Street, New York city. This lady is Treasurer of the Cot Fund, and she will duly acknowledge all the money received by her, whether the amount be large or small.
How nice it was that your papa was able to buy a new head for his namesake so soon! Now if we should fall and break our heads, we could not get new ones so easily.
Charlotte, North Carolina.
I have a black-and-tan dog; his name is Bismarck—for short, Bis. I think he is beautiful—short, stubby, bandy-legged, and very fat, and wobbles when he runs. Papa got him for a pure-blooded rat terrier, but I do not think him very pure. Will B. and Willie S. caught a mouse and put it in a dry-goods box, and put Bis in with the mouse. The mouse ran all over Bis, and Bis would not touch it. So one held Bis's mouth open, and the other caught the mouse with the tongs and put it into Bis's mouth. Bis caught the mouse in his teeth, but was careful not to hurt it. It is dinner-time now, and I will close my letter.
Ned L.
Custer City, Pennsylvania.
I am a little boy seven years old. Papa reads the stories to us. We want the man to write about Toby Tyler some more; and Jimmy Brown is the "boss" boy.
There are lots of wells here, with deep holes and high derricks. They get oil out of the holes, and send it to the 'finery, and they make it into 'finery oil for the stores, and they sell it to the people to burn in lamps. They get thick par'fine out of the wells too, and the men come with pails and kegs, and sell it to the factory, and they make candy and chewing-gum out of it for stores to sell to boys and girls. I am tired. That's all.
Joe A. V.
P.S.—I can't spell good, 'cause I've been sick 'bout four weeks.
Joe.
New York City.
Papa has given my brother and me Harper's Young People, both years, bound, but this year we are taking it by the week, because we thought we would have more time to read it, and we could make out the Wiggles. I have four brothers, all older than myself. We have a very large black Newfoundland dog called Carlo, and a white setter called Bob. We have a gray cat, and a cunning little black kitten, which papa called Janauschek, after the actress. This is the first letter I have ever written to any paper, and I hope you will print it.
Agnes R. L.
Booneville, California.
I am eleven years old, and live in the mountains in California, among the big redwood trees. I have a doll that shuts her eyes and opens them again. We have twenty-six geese and a lot of sheep—but they are dying now—and a pet lamb. To-morrow father and brother Simon go out in the mountains to get two wild hogs that Bob Bawles killed for us to-day. I have five sisters and three brothers.
Sarah A. R.
San Antonio, Texas.
Dear "Young People,"—Mamma gave us a year's subscription to your dear self for a birthday present, and when that expired, renewed it for a Christmas present. There are four of us boys, and our great favorite of all the papers we read, or get mamma to read to us, is Young People. We love Mr. Otis, and feel well acquainted with him and the dear Postmistress, and our little friends' letters are such pleasure to us! We copy them very often. We send you a small bouquet of violets in a box, and hope you will get them; they will be mailed with this letter. We have violets, pinks, roses, and tuberoses almost all winter. We would have sent some long ago, but mamma was too ill for us to think of anything pleasant. Our climate is so very mild that flowers, even geraniums, begonias, ice-plant, etc., grow out of doors all winter. Sometimes a frost comes and kills a few, but not often. Dear Young People, we all love you so! and when we go to New York we will call to see you. Grandpapa has been a subscriber to Harper's Monthly ever since it was first published. Mr. Nic Tengg, the bookseller here, ordered Young People for mamma, as we get all our papers through him. We will soon send something for Young People's Cot.
We can all swim, even four-year-old Edward, and ride our pony, and three of us can drive mamma's buggy all over town. We take lessons on the piano, and can sing several songs.
Your loving little admirers,
George C. F.
Joseph F. F.
Sterling I. F.
Edward F.
"What can be in this little box, so soft, yet so bulky, and oh! so sweet?" we said, when, the other day, a box came to our office. Opening it, dear boys, there were your violets, wrapped so nicely in the wet cotton that they, were still blue and beautiful. It took us quite a little while to discover who were the kind donors, for your letter was one of a great many which came to our Post-office Box that day. But when we did find out, we stopped writing and reading long enough to waft a kiss all the way to San Antonio. How nice it is for you to be able to ride, drive, and swim, as well as to sing and play! Each of these accomplishments will have its use, and give you pleasure all your lives. We are glad your dear mother is better, and if you come to New York, we will be much pleased to see you.
Stamford, Connecticut.
We have two little guinea-pigs, an old cat named Tomas, and four little bantams. I drive the old rooster all about the yard, harnessed to a little wagon. We have a nice horse named Saxon, which eats sugar. The little guinea-pigs drink coffee and eat brown paper. I am a little boy nine years old.
Willie R. D.
It must be fun to drive a rooster in harness, and the little wagon must look "cute." Did you begin when he was a little chick? Are you not afraid the guinea-pigs will have "nerves" if you give them coffee?
I haven't any pets to tell about, but I have six dolls. I live in Philadelphia all winter, but in the spring I go to Mayville, on Chautauqua Lake, near the Sunday-school Assembly Grounds. I go there a great many times, and I think it is very nice.
I have a horse of my own in Mayville. Her name is Daisy. I ride horseback on her. Once she threw me, and nearly broke my arm. It was bruised so I couldn't use it for a week.
I am beginning to get together a cabinet of curiosities. I will exchange a 25 and 50 cent stamp from Germany, a 2 and 5 cent from Finland, and 15 and 25 cent from France, and some silk cocoons and spun silk, for ore; shells, minerals, or anything fit for a cabinet.
Lodie Tourgee,
303 S. 11th St., Philadelphia, Penn.
deer Mister Harper,—my Pa tok yor paper for me. i be much plaes wid it. i tink "Torkin laves" is very inrestin. i got a cro an I named um Toosulom out ob de book. i cotched a Rabet an de way he did run! you ought to se um blink whin I put um in de kage. Put dis note in de paper kos I want to se how it looks.
Jacop Washington J.
Did you mean to be as funny as you could, young gentleman? We fancy it took not a little trouble to get up that bad spelling, and to put instead of capital I's those modest little i's. After all, it does not look so nicely as the letter you are going to write us next week, with every word spelled correctly, and all the capitals and stops in the right places, as prim as young ladies at a party. When you send that letter, please remember to write your address plainly in the upper right-hand corner.
Meadville, Pennsylvania.
I have been a sick boy. But as I am now much better, I hope to be well again soon.
I have asked my mamma to write for me. Mamma reads a great deal to us, and we have Harper's Young People and St. Nicholas.
We have them bound at the end of the year, and we think the two volumes of Harper's Young People the very nicest books we have. I have two sisters and one brother, and we have several pets—a white pony, a canary-bird, a black cat, and some mice.
Mamma read to us about having mice for pets in one of Harper's Young People, and I thought I would try to have some. I made a cage out of a starch box; on one side I fastened a large baking-powder can, and I put some cotton in that. I put wire netting over the front, and then I tried to catch the mice.
When I caught one, I put it in the cage, and after a few days he looked lonely, and seemed to have grown thin, so I caught another and put him in, and now they are fat, and seem very happy.
They keep pretty still all day in the dark, but at night come out in the box, and eat and nibble just enough to keep their teeth sharp, I guess.
They are cunning little creatures, and I think very nice for pets, and perhaps if you should publish this letter some other little folks would like to try the same plan.
We always enjoy the stories in Young People, but we liked "Toby Tyler" best of all.
Louis de V. M.
Omaha, Nebraska.
My little sister and I take Harper's Young People. She is nine, and I am twelve. My brother has a cat nine years old. He is gray, and striped with black. My aunt has a Maltese cat twenty-seven years old. I go to the Central School, and I am in the sixth class. There is a parlor game called capping rhymes. One person gives two or three lines of some piece of poetry, and some other person takes two or three lines of another piece, the first word beginning with the first letter of the last word of the preceding person's verse.
Blanche A.
An easier way to play at rhymes is this: I begin, for instance, by saying:
"The moon came up in the clear night sky."
Sarah follows, making a line to rhyme with mine, thus,
"As round and full as an apple-pie."
Tom's turn is next, and he says,
"Some people think it is made of cheese."
And then Theodore takes it up with,
"But that is silly, as any one sees."
Bartle, Indiana.
I am a little boy ten years old. We live in the country, on the Knobs. It is very high land; my pa says it is a thousand feet above the level of the sea. We have lots of fruit trees, mostly peaches. I have lots of peaches to eat in summer. I know a word longer than the one sent by L. L. H., of Orange, New Jersey. It is A-ber-con-way-co-pen-ha-gen-nic-o-de-mus-an-a-bap-tist-dal-a-mu-tha-o-ba-di-ah. My pa learned this word when he went to school.
Frank C. P.
Exchangers will please address Alice C. Little, formerly of Institution for the Blind, Janesville, Wisconsin, at Oberlin, Ohio.
A Word to Exchangers.—Do not write with pale ink, green ink, blue ink, yellow ink, red ink, or brown ink. Do not write with a lead-pencil. Write very plainly, please, with black ink, on white paper or on a postal card. Before beginning to write, think over what you have to offer, and state it as briefly as possible. We can not make room for any exchange which covers four pages of note-paper. Observe our standing notice, and always communicate by mail with the boys and girls with whom you desire to exchange before sending away your own treasures. Remember that letters which are not fully prepaid will probably go to the Dead-letter Office, and in sending heavy articles, take pains to have them weighed, and put on a sufficient number of postage stamps.