C. Y. P. R. U.

The Seven Sleepers of Ephesus.—An allusion was made in this column a few weeks ago to the long sleep of Rip Van Winkle, whose story is told by Washington Irving. Rip was the village good-for-nothing, a kind-hearted fellow, who had the bad habit of drinking to excess, and who spent hours in lounging about with his dog and gun when he ought to have been earning food for his family. It was little wonder that Dame Van Winkle scolded and stormed.

Rip's home was in a nook of the Catskill Mountains. One day he wandered off in search of game. He met some queer old fellows playing at nine-pins, and they left their keg of liquor where Rip could taste it, while they gravely rolled their balls about. Rip took several tastes, and finally fell asleep.

He supposed that he had slept only one night; but when he awakened, stiff and sore, and made his way down the hills to the settlement, tradition says that he had slept no less than twenty years. His wife was dead. His old comrades were gone. His little girl had a chubby child of her own in her arms. The war of the Revolution had been fought. The face of the world had changed.

Now the Postmistress wants to tell you something very curious about this legend of Rip Van Winkle. Like many other myths, it is found, in different forms, in far-away countries and remote periods. The Greeks had something like it in the exquisite story of the shepherd Endymion; but Endymion did not grow old and gray in his slumbers, as Rip did. In Scandinavian mythology there is a legend of Siegfrid lying sound asleep, but awaiting, a call to fight when his country shall need him. In Bohemia three miners are supposed to be dreaming in the heart of the lonely hills. But the most picturesque of all the stories is the one I am about to tell you of the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus. It is also very ancient.

In the days of the Emperor Diocletian the Christians at Ephesus were persecuted. All who refused to worship idols were condemned to death.

Maximian, Malchus, Marcian, Dionysius, John, Serapion, and Constantine were seven young men of noble birth. They said they would never deny their Lord and Master Jesus Christ. The Emperor gave them a few days to consider their course, telling them that they would certainly be executed unless they obeyed him. They divided their goods among the poor, and retired together to a cave in Mount Celion, where they fell asleep.

Diocletian hunted for them everywhere, but they could not be found. He blocked up with great stones the mouth of the very cavern in which they were, thinking that if they were hidden in its recesses they would not escape his wrath, but would die of hunger.

More than two centuries passed away. Then, according to tradition, an Ephesian building a stable on the side of Mount Celion took a fancy to the big stones in the cave's mouth. He carried them away, daylight poured in, the sounds of the outside world penetrated the silence, and the Seven Sleepers rubbed their eyes, awoke, and felt hungry. It was to them as though they had slept but one day.

Malchus went into the city to buy some food. Everything was strange to him. Everywhere, on houses and temples, he saw the sign of the cross. He heard men using Christ's name. When he went into a baker's shop to buy a loaf, and offered in payment a coin more than two hundred years old, the people stared, and the baker, who happened to be a coin collector, wanted to know where he had discovered so great a treasure. And Malchus, bewildered and confused, was taken before the Governor and the Bishop, and to them he told simply how he and his friends had gone to hide from danger, and how they had fallen asleep, and had just awakened. Then he led the great men and the crowd who followed them to the place where his six companions were impatiently waiting for him to return.

There they were, young, beautiful and blooming. But they were in a world which they did not know, and which did not know them, so the beautiful story says that God kindly took them to Himself before long in the sweet sleep which has no waking on earth.

Washington, D. C.

Dear Postmistress,—I read a letter in Young People, from St. Clair, Michigan, in which a little girl asks you for a name for a club of five, and some suggestions as to pleasant work, and I thought I would write to you about the club I belong to. There are five of us, and our name is the "T. J. G.'s." It was a profound secret for a long time what T. J. G. meant; but one of the girls forgot, and let it slip out. We fined her five cents; and now I suppose I may tell you—The Jolly Girls. Our badge is a bow of garnet ribbon, with a tiny bell fastened to it. We meet every Friday evening, and spend two or three hours in reading and conversation. Some one reads aloud. Our last book was Dr. Gilbert's Daughters. If any one is absent, she must pay a penny into the club fund. We are saving our money to buy books. During the holidays we had a little party, and invited eighteen of our friends. We had dancing and refreshments, and one of the city papers complimented our entertainment very highly. I am nine years old. I have had Young People from the first number. I like fairy stories better than any other kind. Washington looked like fairy-land on Christmas. My mother says that it is the most beautiful city in the world except Paris.

M. Josephine C.

As I have just been reading Dr. Gilbert's Daughters myself, I can imagine what a pleasant time you five T. J. G.'s have had over the troubles of May and Fay. There is a great deal of poetry in fairy stories, and I suppose that is why most people are so very fond of them. I think your badge is very pretty and unique, and I wish other girls and boys who belong to little clubs and circles would write and tell me about them.

C. Y. P. R. U. means Chautauqua Young People's Reading Union, and the papers prepared for the select reading of its members, and published in Harper's Young People from week to week, are recommended and approved by the Rev. Dr. J. H. Vincent, president of the parent society which bears the familiar and now celebrated name of Chautauqua. We state this for the benefit of some of our new subscribers, who do not understand the five mystic letters at the head of this column.

We would call the special attention of the C. Y. P. R. U. to a most interesting article on music, by Mrs. John Lillie, entitled "About Crotchets and Quavers"; and to "Home Gymnastics for Stormy Days," wherein Sherwood Ryse explains to the boys and girls how they may keep their muscles exercised and their cheeks rosy even though confined in-doors by bad weather. They will also be interested in the account of the sheep-dogs of the Scottish Highlands given under the title of "The Shepherd's Friends"; and in Mr. J. M. Murphy's account of "A Deer Hunt in the Rocky Mountains," the incidents of which were drawn from the practical experience of this well-known hunter.

Correct answers to puzzles have been received from "The Two Orphans," John Fred Hilton, C. A., Mabel B. Canon, Mary E. White, M. F. Tomes, Willie Volckhausen, "Lodestar," Wilfred J. Vrooman, George A. Simpson, Patchie Clark, Nellie J. Flagler, John Phelan, Frank Van Dorn, Ella Banks, Louie Price, Helena Sanders, George Hicks, Jennie May Ridgway, "Queen Bess," Richard W. Coutts.

PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.

No. 1.

A LADDER.

*						*
*	*	*	*	*	*	*
*						*
*						*
*	*	*	*	*	*	*
*						*
*						*
*	*	*	*	*	*	*
*						*
*						*
*	*	*	*	*	*	*
*						*
*						*
*	*	*	*	*	*	*

The bars are respectively a cotton cloth, a weapon, marine substances, a beautifier, and an intruder. From the sides an ingenious person will spell the name of an immortal book, and find out its author.

Kitty Clover.