THAT SMALL PIECEE BOY FROM CHINA.
BY MRS. LIZZIE W. CHAMPNEY.
'Twas a little Asiatic
Sitting sadly on the deck,
Who with wailings loud, emphatic,
Watched his home fade to a speck,
While his saffron-hued complexion
Altered to deep olive green,
And the tears of retrospection
In his almond eyes were seen.
Still he scanned the far horizon,
Touching neither bread nor meat;
And we feared that he would die soon,
For we could not make him eat.
Sympathy, and e'en religion,
Had for him no hope or cheer.
"Speakee you too much fool pigeon,
Better China home than here.
Me no likee English junkee,
English chowchow too no nice.
Why no can some roasted monkey?
What for not some piecee mice?
Number one no washee dishee,
Catchee chopsticks scouree bright;
Too much workee, this boy wishee
Top-side makee, flyee kite."
"Make a kite, you foolish fellow,"
Kindly then the Captain said.
With delight his cheeks so yellow
Flushed almost to rosy red.
As he worked, an inspiration
In his eager fingers burned.
Each on board made his donation,
Every scrap to use was turned.
To begin, the galley scullion
Gave a worn-out cracked guitar,
Which would utter shrieks æolian
As the breeze bore it afar;
Slats there were from blinds Venetian,
And a tattered parasol.
Wondered we at such provision,
Sure it could not carry all.
Two old bonnets, an air cushion,
With a bandbox painted green,
Rockets two, to set it rushing,
And an ancient crinoline,
Wings from a torn old umbrella,
While a tail of many rags
Showed in its red, white, and yellow
He had stol'n the signal flags.
Vain our taunts, our sneers invidious,
For each day the structure grew
Stronger, vaster, and more hideous,
Yet more awful to the view.
Cloven tongue all barbed and hissing,
And a snaky horned wig,
Goggle eyes revolving, whizzing
In a fiery whirligig;
Till with joy Kong's face resembled
A great orange sent from Seville.
All who saw the kite now trembled,
'Twas so very like a devil.
And Kong scanned the far horizon,
Till from out the western main
Rose a black and threatening typhoon,
And it blew a hurricane.
On the poop Kong danced ecstatic,
And he gave his demon string.
As it tugged with curve erratic
Loud and clear we heard him sing:
"No more chowchow mutton hashee,
Soon me suck fat shark tail fin,
Soon one pigtail full of cashee
Me give cumshaw Joss, Pekin;
Soon me sing my China sing-song,
Chowchow nice bird-nest pudding.
Ha quai, fly, go top-side Chin chong
Choy, old English junk. Chin chin."
Shrieked we all in accents frantic,
"Oh, come back, you China boy!"
Vain: he soared o'er the Atlantic
In a straight course for Amoy.
And the soldiers of Gibraltar
Saw him whizzing through the sky,
Like a bomb-shell to the assault, or
A gigantic comet high.
And the tempest waged still windier
As he crossed the great canal,
Till, with but a glance at India,
He reached safe the China wall.
There, in a pagoda finer
Far than I can tell or write,
That small piecee boy from China
Now reposes with his kite.
Darlington Heights, Virginia.
My papa says there is no difficulty in painting magic-lantern slides with water-color paints, and the design can easily be made without using those dangerous chemicals. He used to make slides in this way when he was a boy: Take a slip of glass of the proper size, and cover one side with a coat of mastic varnish, and let it dry well. Then make your sketch on a piece of white paper, and lay your slide over it, and trace the outlines on the glass with a fine camel's-hair brush and India ink. Now mix your water-colors with thin gum water, and you will find you can paint quite well on the varnished surface. If there is any difficulty, a little ox-gall, which can be bought at any paint shop, will make it right. All the details must be carefully painted with a very fine brush, as the magic lantern magnifies all defects. Only transparent colors, like gamboge, Prussian blue, lakes, and madders, can be used. The slides should be finished by covering all the glass, except the figures, with black oil-paint, and adding another coat of varnish to the slide.
Harry J.
Stalybridge, Lancashire, England.
I am a little English girl nine years old; I have a kind auntie in America, who sends us Harper's Bazar and Young People. My sisters and I are delighted with them. My papa has some very kind cousins in Kentucky. Cousin S—— has invited us to go and see him, and have some of his nice fruit, and mamma says we may some time if we are good. We call him uncle, because we love him so. He sent some American flour to papa, who keeps a store here, and we have had one hundred barrels of American apples, and are going to have more. We have the Stars and Stripes and Union-Jack at papa's store, and the children here call it the "'Merica shop."
Louise Mary K.
Mankato, Kansas.
I have lived in this place ten years. I am eleven years old. A great change has taken place here since I came. Not long ago this was the Indians' country. We could see traces of them, and often felt afraid. Buffalo, antelopes, and wolves were very numerous, and frequently ran past our house. Nearly everybody lived in "dug-outs" then, but now things are beginning to look civilized. We have a railroad, and churches and school-houses. People are building fine houses, and everything is progressing rapidly. Papa and mamma have lived in Kansas for twenty-one years.
We have a large cat and a mocking-bird, which are on very friendly terms with each other, and will often eat together from the same dish.
Eleanor W.
Lancaster, Pennsylvania.
Here are two pretty botanical experiments, which may be new to some readers of Young People. Place a sponge of any size in a saucer, which must be kept filled with water. Sprinkle some canary-seed on the top of the sponge, and in a short time it will sprout and become a beautiful bunch of long green grass.
A crocus bulb, if wrapped in cotton and placed in a saucer of water, will in course of time sprout and bloom.
Carl R. E.
When I was seven years old my brother, my two sisters, and myself were presented with four white Angora rabbits. Two were lost, but before long the other pair had five little ones, and in time there were nineteen.
Two summers ago we visited the White Mountains. I had a baby rabbit which I liked better than any of the others, so I took it with me. It was very tame, and would follow me everywhere. Its name was Snowball. It lived on bread, milk, clover, and other greens, and it liked candy as well as I do. I took it to the White Mountains in a basket with a little hay in it. When we reached there, Snowball was very tired, and I put it to bed. We were among the mountains eleven days, and Snowball grew very fat before we came home.
I never let it out in the rain; but one day it ran out when I did not know it; I caught it, and was carrying it up stairs to comb and dry its hair, when it fell backward from my shoulder and dislocated its back. I had to have it killed with chloroform. It was stuffed, and is now in my room.
In the winter all of my rabbits died except eight, and the day I went back to the country those were left out-of-doors in a coop. In the morning when I went to feed them they were all dead. A dog had broken into the coop in the night. That was the end of my beautiful rabbits, and I can not tell of my great sorrow.
H. F. White.
San Jose, California.
I am eleven years old, and I delight to read Young People. I like it better and better every week.
We have just returned from a pleasure-trip all over California. It was delightful eating oranges from the trees in Los Angeles, and catching trout in the beautiful streams in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.
Tommie H.
Occidental, California.
I live in the far West, among the redwoods of Sonoma County, seventy miles from San Francisco, on the North Pacific Coast Railroad. There are a number of saw-mills here, and there are large redwood trees, some of which are over twelve feet through. Some of the pine-trees will make seventeen cords of four-foot wood.
Not far from our house there is one of the highest railroad bridges in the State. It is one hundred and thirty-seven and a half feet from the creek to the roadway.
We have several kinds of wild animals around here.
S. Edward E.
Trinity, Louisiana.
I live in a little town called Trinity, because it is built where three rivers meet. We have an overflow here nearly every year, and have lots of fun going about in boats, but we generally get tired before the water goes off the ground.
I am ten years old. I have five sisters and four brothers. We do not go to school, but have a governess. We had a pet deer, but it died the first cold weather. I have been taking music lessons seven months, and can play a few pieces. We all like Young People very much.
Retta S.
Sunbury, Pennsylvania.
I have never written to Young People before, and now I want to tell about my flowers. I raised over one hundred and fifty plants from slips last summer. I like the light blue heliotrope better than any other house plant, so I have propagated about twenty-five plants of that.
I had a rabbit given to me recently. I call it Dicky. It eats turnips, cabbage, and apples.
I like Young People very much. "Out of the Woods" was a splendid story. I am thirteen years old.
Mary R.
Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island.
I wish to tell all the correspondents that, as I have exchanged postage stamps with a great many, I have now no more duplicates left, and will not be able to supply any more boys.
G. C. Wiggin.
I am all out of curiosities now, and can not exchange them any longer, but I would like to exchange postmarks.
Teddy Smith,
641 Cass Avenue, Detroit, Mich.
I live on the great prairies of Dakota, not far from the pipe-stone quarries. It is said to be the only place in the world where pipe-stone is found. It is used by the Indians for making pipes, rings, beads, and other things. I would like to exchange specimens of pipe-stone for sea-shells, ocean curiosities, Egyptian postage stamps, foreign coins, or Indian relics.
George F. Smith,
Care of Allen Smith, P. O. Box 38,
Aurora, Brookings County, Dakota.
The following exchanges are also offered by correspondents:
Relics gathered on the ancient sites of Onondaga Indian villages for Indian relics from other localities, ocean curiosities, or minerals.
Lyman H. Norton,
Plainville, Onondaga County, N. Y.
California birds' eggs for eggs from other localities.
Fannie W. Rogers,
Gilroy, Santa Clara County, California.
Crochet patterns and postmarks.
Tessie Lindsay,
Wappingers Falls, Dutchess County, N. Y.
Postmarks, minerals, sea-shells, coins, and other curiosities.
George J. Anthony,
235 First Street, Jersey City, N. J.
Postage stamps and postmarks.
Leslie I. Ray, Ishpeming, Mich.
Foreign postage stamps. A stone from New York State, for one from any other State except New Jersey.
Edwin M. Cox, Jun.,
Spuyten Duyvel, N. Y.
Postage stamps and sea-shells.
Walter Mandell,
666 Jefferson Avenue, Detroit, Mich.
Foreign postage stamps for Indian relics and other curiosities.
A. H. Van Buskirk,
429 East Fifty-eighth Street, New York City.
Stones, stamps, and coins.
Charles Stewart,
North Evanston, Cook County, Ill.
Postage stamps.
Annie P. Carrier,
Shady Side, Pittsburgh, Penn.
Postmarks, Indian arrow-heads, or specimens of iron, copper, or nickel ores from Norway, for birds' eggs or foreign postage stamps.
Gertrude A. Arnold,
177 North Pearl Street, Buffalo, N. Y.
An open boll of cotton, exactly as grown on the stalk, for foreign stamps or coin.
Joseph Hawkins, Prosperity, S. C.
About six hundred postage stamps and an international stamp album for a scroll saw.
A. S. Wettach,
P. O. Box 891, New York City.
Postage stamps.
James H. Dewson,
113 Schermerhorn Street, Brooklyn, N. Y.
Postage stamps and relics.
John A. Selkirk,
132 First Street, Albany, N. Y.
Postmarks.
Robert Kreider,
P. O. Box 119, Mauch Chunk, Penn.
Pressed leaves and ferns, or postmarks, for leaves and ferns from other localities.
Agnes and Carrie Rauchfuss,
Golconda, Pope County, Ill.
Birds' eggs.
O. M. Freeman,
Albion, Providence County, R. I.
Indian arrow-heads for birds' eggs.
Isobel Jacob,
Darlington Heights, Prince Edward Co., Va.
Postmarks for different kinds of buttons.
Emma Radford,
Gloversville, Fulton County, N. Y.
Minerals, fossils, and ferns.
Ruthe S. Collin,
Cornell College, Mount Vernon, Iowa.
Postage stamps.
Fred Harris,
322 East Fifty-seventh Street, New York City.
Birds' eggs.
S. D. Wright,
Care of J. B. Wright,
Columbus, Muscogee County, Ga.
Insects and postage stamps.
Grace Sturtevant,
South Framingham, Mass.
Pieces of crystallized starch from what is said to be the largest starch factory in the world, dovetailed pieces of wood from a large box manufactory, or pebbles and stones from Lake Ontario, for specimens of workmanship from any manufacturing establishment in the United States, or minerals.
George D. Gillett,
136 West Fourth Street, Oswego, N. Y.
Twenty postmarks for ten foreign postage stamps. No duplicates.
John V. L. Pierson,
Bloomfield, Essex County, N. J.
Postage stamps.
Louis Huicq,
Hoboken, N. J.
Minerals, fossils, birds' eggs, and foreign and United States postage stamps.
Arthur Milliken,
Emporia, Kan.
Stones from Utah and Germany, and Indian arrow-heads for birds' eggs or stamps.
Harry Everett,
2447 Cottage Grove Avenue, Chicago, Ill.
Iron, lead, zinc, sulphur, and magnetic iron for curiosities, other ores, or stamps.
Edwin Heilig,
Wytheville, Wythe County, Va.
Postmarks.
Allan J. Houghton,
P. O. Box 619, Washington, D. C.
Michigan postmarks and minerals and shells from the Atlantic Ocean for shells and curiosities from the Pacific coast.
Robert J. Lasier,
124 Fort Street West, Detroit, Mich.
Willie J. F.—Club or Acme. For full information, see advertisement of Peck & Snyder, or Barney & Berry, in our columns.
Willie F. W.—1. Twenty-five-cent gold pieces have been coined by the United States, but they have never been in general circulation.—2. There is no work on practical book-binding from which the business can be learned. Your best way would be to make the acquaintance of some book-binder, and get him to show you the process. There are excellent works on ornamental book-binding, but they are expensive, and would be of no use to an amateur.—3. No. Each kind has its partisans.
Boatman.—Full directions for making a flat-bottomed boat will soon be given in Young People, with working diagrams.
Clifton J.—To make a toboggan take a thin birch board about five feet long and a foot and a half wide. Steam one end to turn up, and secure the curve by stout cord or wire. This primitive sled, which is an invention of the Canadian Indians, is used only on crusted snow, and is steered with two short sticks held firmly in the hands.
H. H. Henry.—Pekin, the capital city of China, is situated in the province of Chili. Its population is estimated from 1,648,000 to 2,000,000, but it is impossible to arrive at an exact statement.
Ida L. G.—See answer to Miriam B. and others in Post-office Box of Young People No. 52.
N. L. Jones.—Land lizards feed on small insects. If you have house plants, and allow the lizards liberty to run among them, they will keep them free from lice and small worms, which often do great injury to the leaves.
C. W. M.—You can send soil or other specimens in a small box by mail.
Lucy Wilson, L. L. G., N. B. Greene, and many Others.—Write and make your inquiries from the correspondents with whom you wish to exchange.
Dear Friends,—About a fortnight ago, when we boys and girls of the "Children's Hour" were busy at our drawing and painting, Miss Donlevy, our teacher, told us we had all been invited to visit Harper's Building.
You may just think we clapped our hands with delight, and made considerable noise for a minute or two, but then we promised to behave very quietly.
When the day came, we all, with our teacher, took the Third Avenue elevated car, and whizzed down in no time to Franklin Square, and soon found ourselves mounting up the winding stairs to the office of Young People.
We had all been wondering whether we should have to look dignified, and mind our p's and q's, supposing the editor was oldish and wore spectacles; he wasn't, though, for he was young, and as kind and friendly as if he was one's own grown-up brother or cousin, and let us ask questions until I guess his ears ached and his head spun.
The girls took off their cloaks and the boys their overcoats, and piled them up on a chair. The editor took us to the art department, where we were introduced to the art critic and an artist famous for drawing grasses and flowers and landscapes. As they were only talking, we went into the next room to see artists at work. One had a small block of box-wood on his desk, covered with a transparent paper, called gelatine paper; on this was traced in red pencil a picture of a house and trees. He was going over all the red lines with a pointed instrument. When the gelatine paper was lifted off, there were the lines faintly cut in the wood. Then the artist took a lead-pencil and went over the cut lines with it; next came shading the picture with a brush and India ink. When we had watched them doing this we were all marched off to the engraving department.
What busy people engravers are! There they sat, looking as if they thought there wasn't a thing in the world to be looked at but the block picture on the padded cushion before them. All the engravers had shades over their eyes, and were looking through magnifying-glasses at their work.
One of them let me look through his, and, whew! how big the things looked! I saw in a minute that all the parts of the block are cut away except the parts marked by the lead-pencil and brush; these must stand up higher than the rest of the wood, to take the ink for printing. But I tell you what seemed like magic—taking a proof. The proof-taker just laid the engraved block picture on its back in his press, and ran an inked roller over its face; then he laid a sheet of paper on it; then he pulled the press down on it, and it only took a second's pressure; when he lifted up the press and took the paper out, there was the loveliest picture of a baby sitting in a high chair. All the class wanted one immediately, but we had no time to wait; so away we marched up some more winding stairs to the "composing-room." Now you mustn't think that's where they compose stories; it's only the place for setting up type, and such work.
Here a number of young men were filling small iron things, called "sticks," with type; as each stick was loaded, the types were taken out in a bunch and put into a tray called a "galley." This is called "composing." Stickful after stickful was arranged, until a page of type lay there. It seemed all spelled backward, to make it come out right when printed.
The "galley man" then inked this page of type, and struck off a proof for each of us, just as the picture proof was struck off down stairs. As this page was only a letter from a doll, I didn't care much for it, but all the girls just went wild over it; however, I took one for the curiosity's sake; for what fellow is there cares for dolls?
Harper's Young People is not printed right from these type, as I thought when the proofs were being made for us, for the type would soon wear off. A wax mould is made from each page of set-up type. I asked the editor what good a soft wax thing like that mould could be, so he took us all into a wonderful room, where they make copper plates from the wax moulds. We had only been there a minute or two when the foreman asked us if we'd like to see him strike lightning. In the middle of the room stands a large bath of glass, with a smaller one inside of it filled with a dark blue liquid. Joined to it were some broad bands of copper, reaching nearly to the ceiling. Well, the foreman touched one of these belts with some kind of a bar of metal, and right away the sparks flew, and there came flashes like lightning. Of course some of the girls ran away, and one of the boys ran too.
We boys staid, and the foreman showed us how the wax moulds were hung in the blue-vitriol water, with plates of copper hanging near them. Somehow—I can not understand exactly how—the electricity makes the copper dissolve and fall in powder on the wax, where it hardens; when it is taken out of this bath it is a beautiful copper picture, black on the front and red on the under side.
We were told the under or hollow side would next be filled in with lead, just as boys fill in a bullet mould. We were only allowed to peep into the lead-melting room, where we saw a great caldron filled with boiling lead. I would have liked to give it a good stir up with the big ladle, but of course didn't ask the favor. This built-up copper plate is very strong, and any number of pictures or letters—for they make moulds and plates of both—can be printed from them.
Then the editor said we should see the men printing from these plates, fastened into iron frames called "forms." So down ever so many winding stairs we travelled, until we came to a dark under-ground room, where the "Hoe" printing-presses are. Whew! what a whizzing and buzzing there was!
We all stood around a great big machine, and the editor kindly lifted us up in turn so we might all see it. On the top, on a large metal plate, the white paper is laid, the plate moves forward, and up come a lot of shining steel prongs that catch the paper and drag it under so you can't see it. Just then, below, at the other side, we caught sight of a large "form" with the metal plate of type, or text, and pictures of Harper's Young People in it. It seemed to know just what to do, for it moved toward the sheet of paper, which was somewhere down under the rollers, and the next thing we saw was the sheet coming out at the other end on a wooden frame, which lifted up and turned it over on a pile which had been printed before we came in. Just think, boys and girls: that press can turn out two thousand Young People in an hour!
We only took a peep at the two big "Corliss" steam-engines that were making the whole thing go. Here some of the girls were afraid again; so, as it was near twelve o'clock, we hurried up the winding stairs again to see the folding and binding and "marbleizing" done.
The folding-machine is just the cleverest thing. The sheet is laid on a moving roller which carries it over to a second and then a third roller, and it goes in and out, and the first thing you know it drops down in a trough at the side, all nicely folded, and cut, too, for binding.
Then we saw a lot all ready for the sewers. Well, I think I never saw needles fly like those that the girls were sewing the leaves in lots with. Fifty-two Young Peoples sewed together make a pretty fat-looking book, but when it is put in a heavy press it comes out looking considerably slimmer. Next we saw the fly-leaves marbleized. My! but wasn't it pretty! A man stood in front of a large square bath filled with gum and water. There were lots of cans around, filled with red, blue, yellow, green, and other colored paints. First he dipped his brush in the red and shook it over the gum water—the drops made circles of red—then he shook yellow spots with another brush; then blue, till the top of the water was beautifully spotted. Next he took what looked like a very big comb and stroked the water softly, so all the colors took curious long shapes; then he stroked it the other way with a finer comb, until it had a pretty peacock-feather pattern on it, and was ready for the paper, which he just laid flat on top of the gay water, and then hung it up to dry for fly-leaves.
After that we watched the men brush paste on the backs of the books, put the covers on, and place them in presses to make the paste stick. We couldn't wait to see them come out of the presses, so we thanked the editor, and started for home. Some of the girls said they would know how to mend books now when the covers came off. Every one of them said they were going to marbleize paper when they got home; but I know something more tip-top than that: I'm going to rig up a machine to strike lightning. And now, dear friends, I must say good-by.
Frank E. F.
Favors are acknowledged from E. D. Kellogg, C. W. Seagar, A. D. H., Ben J. R., Phebe O'Reilly, T. F. Weishampel, H. G. M., Ellie Earle, F. D. Crane, Willy Rochester, Nellie E. Owen, Lydia M. Bennett, Mary Daucy, Willie A. Scott, Albert K. Hart, Bobbie C. Horntager, Dany J. O., T. N. Jamieson, Belle Dening, Joe T. P., Freddie C. Y., Mamie S., Eva M. Moody, Gracie E. Stevens.
Correct answers to puzzles are received from Charles Gaylor, Mabel Lowell, The Dawley Boys, Alice Ward, Tom Kelley, Jun., Cal I. Forny, Mark Marcy, George Willie Needham, Walter P. Hiles.
PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.
No. 1.
HALF-SQUARE—(To Mark Marcy).
Last.—A bird. To pinch. White. A letter.
Mabel.