KING HAZELNUT
King Hazelnut, of Weisnichtwo,
A jolly King was he,
And all his subjects, high and low,
Were happy as could be.
They feasted every day on pie
And pudding and plum-cake,
And never broke the law—for why?—
There was no law to break.
Oh, jolly was King Hazelnut,
Especially at noon;
Then many a caper he would cut,
And hum a merry tune.
And from his golden throne he'd hop,
And fling his sceptre down,
And on the table, like a top,
Would spin his golden crown.
Then he would slap his sides and sing
Unto his serving-man,
"That rolly-poly pudding bring
As lively as you can."
.
A HAPPY THANKSGIVING and a splendid time to all our boys and girls!
Glencoe, Louisiana.
Viola E. would perhaps find the names most familiar to your young Creole subscribers in Louisiana as unaccustomed as are those of which she writes to the ears of children outside of Virginia. In this house the young girl to whom Young People is addressed was christened Elmire, but is known only by her petit nom of "Fillette." Her mother's name is Gracieuse—is it not musical? An impish little ebon-hued maid in the yard is Mariquite. Another, with gleaming ivories, is Yélie. A cousin who comes often, and is nearly old enough to cast his vote, is yet "Bébé," despite his sponsors having called him Édouard. And "Guisson," his brother, who would guess his name to be Émile?
A little knowledge of creole interiors would correct the ideas so prevalent as to creole indolence. Away down here, on a sluggish little bayou that makes its way through the plantation to the not-far-distant Gulf, these young girls, though not perhaps speaking so good English as their Virginia sisters of Anglo-Saxon extraction, having learned it rather from the lips of negro servants than from their parents, are, at any rate, their peers in womanly accomplishments, if practical knowledge of the details of a ménage constitutes such—the ability to wash, starch, iron, straighten a room, make a gumbo, mix a cake and bake it, etc. The very neatly made calico dresses they wear are their own handiwork. After five hours spent in the school-room with their institutrice, and the required time given to the practice of their piano, one of them is amusing herself by making a quantity of under-clothing for a beloved little filleule. A basse-cour of about six hundred turkeys, ducks, and chickens is cared for almost wholly by the two girls and their mother. Domestic virtues these, worthy even of Yankee girls, are they not? Just as much, though, as Yankee girls or as Virginia girls do these young Louisianians claim their heritage as Americans and their place among your "Young People."
L'Institutrice.
We have read this letter with great pleasure, and now we would like to hear from somebody about our Western girls; and the New England girls too will find a corner waiting if they choose to write.
Harper, Iowa.
I can now read all the long stories in Young People. I liked "Tim and Tip" very much, and think the bear hunt was quite funny. I had a pair of white doves given me as a present. One of them, in trying to fly through the screen door, broke its neck, and the other flew away with some wild ones. So I lost my pets, and was very sorry. I am sorry for Jimmy Brown. He makes me think of myself sometimes. My sister teaches piano music. My two brothers play in the Cornet Band, and I am learning music; so we have plenty of music. We all go to school.
Harper R.
Manhattan, Kansas.
I have three brothers and two sisters. This summer we all went to New Mexico. We stopped at Las Vegas, and saw the Hot Springs, and the water in the springs was so hot that we could not hold our hands in it. And we stopped over Sunday at Santa Fe, and saw the Corpus Christi procession. We saw a horned toad that ran as fast as a horse. We brought back two donkeys, and mine threw me off, and broke my two front teeth. Uncle Henry gave us some saddles. Our baby is only two months old, and has red hair. I liked "Toby Tyler" best of any. I am nine years old. My name is
Maggie P.