ROSA MAYFIELD'S LOSS.
Let me introduce my readers to a bright, sunny-haired girl who on a pleasant morning in July is playing in a large garden. She first sits down in a pretty little arbor, and sews for a short time; then she puts her work away, and goes to plant some seed which old James, the gardener, has given her. Suddenly she hears some one calling to her from the house.
"Rosa! Rosa! come here a minute, my child."
"Yes, mamma," said Rosa; "I will come as soon as I have put away my tools."
When she reached the sitting-room, her mamma was not there, but on running to the bedroom, she found her, all dressed to go out, and putting on her gloves. As soon as she saw Rosa, she said: "Would you like to go to the cattle show with me, dear, and then go to your cousins, in the country for tea? The carriage will be round presently."
"Oh yes, indeed I should, mamma," said the little girl, as she skipped away to nurse to be dressed.
"Oh, you darling mamma," said Rosa, as she settled herself in the carriage beside her mother. "I always enjoy going to tea with May and Clara Haliburton so much! and I have never been to a cattle show;" and here she clapped her hands and laughed so loud that her mother had to tell her to be quiet, as the passers-by would think she must be a very badly behaved little girl.
At last, they reached the cattle show. Then they got out of the carriage, and went inside. There they saw dogs, cats, rabbits, and all sorts of animals. Rosa was greatly delighted with a beautiful white rabbit with pink eyes.
After they had seen enough, they drove to the rectory, where the Haliburtons lived. After Rosa had said good-afternoon to her aunt, May and Clara took her to see the chickens and rabbits, the donkey, and all their other pets. Never had she spent such a delightful afternoon, and was very sorry when the tea bell rang, and they had to go in. But what a tea they had! Muffins, cakes, and preserves of all sorts, and such delicious fresh bread and butter, and new milk from her uncle's farm. At a quarter to nine the carriage came to take them home, and they had to say good-by.
Rosa was so tired that she fell asleep in her mamma's arms, and never woke till the next morning, when she found herself in her own little bed.
In Mrs. Mayfield's room some parcels are waiting, addressed to Miss R. Mayfield, one large, and the others small; and as it is Rosa's birthday, she is to open them herself. All the small ones are opened. In one she finds a gold brooch from her mamma; in another is a prayer-book from her father; in the others are presents from all her little friends. At last she unties the string and draws off the paper of the large parcel, and gives one scream of delight as she sees in a beautiful lined basket the little rabbit she saw at the cattle show. The lady to whom it belonged, being a friend of Mrs. Mayfield, had heard Rosa saying she would like to have it, and had sent it to her. Rosa ran off with her new pet to feed it, and after showing it to everybody she took it into the garden and put it into a cage close by her arbor, in a sunny corner, where she could always see it. She kept it carefully for three months; but on going to feed it one morning, with her hands full of lettuce leaves and clover, she found her pet was gone. A cruel cat had come every day and watched her feeding her rabbit, and at last, seeing her just pull the door to, and not lock it, had seized the opportunity, and had carried off her pet.
Poor little Rosa cried herself to sleep that night, and for many nights after, and never loved any of the pets her mamma gave her as she had loved her little white rabbit.
Gussie Tobias (aged 10 years),
Liverpool, England.
Okahumpka, Florida.
I am a little girl ten years old, and live away down in South Florida, where the sun is always bright and the trees always green. In our quiet little home there are only mamma, Addie, and I. Our dear father is dead. Sister Addie is six years old. We have no school, church, nor Sunday-school. Mamma gives us our lessons daily at home, and a kind English gentleman gives me music lessons. We do not know who sends us the Young People, but hope our kind unknown friend will see this letter, and learn how much we enjoy the gift and appreciate the kindness. I am suffering from sore eyes, and not allowed to read or write, so mamma is writing for me; but when I get well I will write myself, and tell about our pets and other things.
Rosa M. J.
Scandia, Kansas.
I have been taking your paper almost a year, and like it very much. It was papa's Christmas present to me, so I thought I would write you a letter. I have a pet hen. I call her Brownie. She is getting old now. She answers me in hen language when I take her up and talk to her. I have a canary-bird. I call him Dickey. He is just learning to sing.
Laura H.
Harlem, New York.
I have had my cat Till seven years. We think he is a very wise cat, for he sits upon his hind-legs and begs. When I go down stairs in the morning, if I say, "Good-morning, Till," he will shake hands with me. He is a very dainty cat. He will not eat roast beef unless it is very rare, and he does not care at all for the heads of chickens and turkeys; but he loves cheese and crackers, and will eat all the cake I will give him. I am eleven years old.
Mabel M. S.
Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
I have a great many dolls, and a large doll house in the conservatory, which I enjoy very much, so I thought you would be pleased to have a letter from me. Mrs. Love Lee and her ten children live in the large doll house, which is a little taller than I am. I am six. The babies Faith, Hope, and Love are triplets. I wish we had three live babies. Cozy has two kittens. Cozy is my cat. Arthur and Arabella are twins, about in the middle. Blanche is the young lady, and Fifine the big school-girl. Rosebud is only six inches tall, and her eyes open and shut, and she moves her head and arms and legs. Daffodil is just the same, only smaller, and Joe is the little boy. Ida takes care of the children in the nursery. Dinah is the cook. She is colored very much. Chechon sets the table, and keeps the dining-room in order. Chechon is a Chinese. The twins have a very nice cabinet of shells and stones. I gave them some out of mine. Each of the children have something to do to help their mamma, just, as I do.
I go to Kindergarten, and once a week I speak a little piece out of Baby-Land, or St. Nicholas, or Harper's Young People, or The Nursery. I can say all of "The Cat, the Parrot, and the Monkey." It is just at the end of my bound Harper's Young People. It is called "Filbert." That is the best story I know. I like "The Story of a Parrot," too, but it would have been better if some one had carried him home at last. Papa says he don't see why I like that story so well, but he reads it to me 'most every Sunday. He likes "Toby Tyler" a great deal better, or even "Tim and Tip." They are pretty good too. I don't like story boys as well as I do story animals. I like live animals too. Dogs and cats are never afraid of me, but will come right to me in the street or anywhere. I found a little mud-turtle at Minnehaha Falls, and brought it to papa and mamma by its tail, and it played with me a little while, and then I carried it back to its cave at the side of the path down the gully.
This fall I caught a live star-fish, when the tide was coming in, down on the beach at Portland, Maine, and we brought it home to put in my cabinet when it gets dry enough. It is sticky yet. It is out in the wood-shed drying. When we were going there I caught a mouse. It ran into its hole in the corner of the dépôt, all but its tail. I suppose I took hold too tightly, or else too high up, for he turned around and bit my thumb. I wasn't going to hurt him, but just to play with him a little while. I wish animals could talk. That was at the Montreal dépôt.
You asked about dolls. I have a doll, about a foot high, wheeling a little cart in front of her. When I draw the cart by a string, the doll goes trot, trot, trot on behind, and every one I meet turns around, and says, "Did you ever see anything so funny?" Uncle Ebb found it at Manistee, Michigan, and sent it to me by express.
Blossom is my very large wax doll. I draw her around the block in her carriage every pleasant afternoon. Sometimes Daisy, who is almost as large, rides in the front seat. If it is too warm for Blossom to go out, Daisy will ride in the back seat, and Charity in front. Charity is indestructible and good, but not beautiful. Cisily I took with me to Vermont and Boston and Maine, because she had never been anywhere. She ought to have a new dress Christmas, if Santa Claus only knew it. Joe is just as tall as Cisily. I measure them often with my foot-rule. They are once and a half tall. They have the same furry hair. They have a very nice carriage, and always ride out together. I shall take Joe next. He has never been anywhere yet, but Cisily wore his overcoat and rubbers East, and took his little knife I in her pocket. He thought she might want it to whittle in Vermont or Boston. Uncle Ebb often helps me play, and speaks for the dolls. I am all there is here of children.
I have a good many more dolls. There is a small doll house full, and Mother Goose with her shoe full of them, and some of the children in the doll houses have dolls for themselves. The "log-cabin" has a family in that. The "Swiss cottage" has only wooden people. The frame house has twelve children. I like large families. They are more convenient for the children. Mamma reads your letters to me. I could read them, but they are printed so fine it is hard to read. I am in the Second Reader, and the same words are easy to read in that. I read a lesson every day in the connecting class, after Kindergarten is over at noon. I read, spell, write, and draw about fifteen minutes each, and am home to dinner at one. Then come the kitties and dolls.
Nellie B.
Saybrook, Connecticut.
I see you want to know whether dolls have gone out of style. No, I think not. I am eleven years old. I was very sick when I was six years old, and have not been able to walk since except in braces. I have a rolling-chair that I am wheeled in when out-doors, and I have many nice times with my dolls. I have eight of them. I think Young People is very nice. I hope this is not too long to be printed, as it is my first letter to any paper. I have eight pets.
Belle M. I.
I want to tell you about my little dog. He is a black and tan, and is so cute. He will speak, sit on his hind-legs and beg, and catch anything thrown to him. His name is Bijon.
I will send twenty-five rare foreign stamps for ten gilt picture advertising cards, and give twelve internal revenue stamps for five gilt picture cards. One $2 stamp; nine $1; a 30 cent, 50, 25, 20, 15; two 10, two 5, and one 2 cent stamp. Please give your full address when you send cards. My name is
Nellie Mason, P. O. Box 636,
Madison, Wisconsin.
Hill View, Kentucky.
My teacher gave me Young People as a prize for being a good scholar. Ma raised about one hundred turkeys this year, and I raised twelve guinea-fowl with them. I like the paper very much. I am always glad when Saturday comes.
Carrie McK.
South Norwalk, Connecticut.
I am sorry the girl in South Glastenbury does not like cats. If she knew my cat, I think she would like him. My brother caught fifty little fish for him, each about as long as my little finger. After he had eaten twenty-five, he could scarcely eat any more, but would not let us take them away, as he wanted to play with them. Sometimes he goes to the door, and asks us to let him come up stairs, when he gets into my doll's bed, pulls the sheet off her, and gets close to her. When she sits up in a chair, he gets in her lap. He does not like to hear the noise made by dishes, so, when they are washed, he mews till they are done. My brother plagued him once, and Kit ran to the door, and stopped a minute to consider, then ran back, and struck him with his paws. He is lazy, but you need not put that in Young People.
Jessie B.
A puss that has fifty fish offered him at once is quite excusable for being lazy. We think he is a very interesting cat.
Oakdale, Pennsylvania.
Papa gave me a male canary about two years ago, and last spring my uncle gave my sister a female, and we thought we would try to raise some little birds. The mother bird laid five eggs, and they all hatched and grew to be big birds, were very tame, and we used to carry them around the room, and let them ride in our dolls' coaches. She laid five eggs again, but we only raised three more birds. They are all singers. We have seven cats—Polly, Beauty, Tom, Milly, Pussy, Harry, and Lottie. Polly is a Maltese. Our dog is named Friskie. I am ten years old.
Mary E. D.
Pine Bend, Minnesota.
I thought I would tell you about some hens we had when I was four or five years old. One would come in the pantry, if the window was left open, and lay her egg in a pan of eggs on the shelf. Another was determined to make her nest up stairs, and we did not dare leave the front-door open. Another hen laid three times in the wood-box in the kitchen, in spite of being driven out many times.
Mary M.
Denver, Colorado.
I like the paper real well, and the little letters too. My mamma reads 'em to us, 'cause we can't read ourselves. Grandpapa sent it to brother and me last New-Year's. My dolly I like so much! She has nice clothes, and the dearest little button boots and stockings what come off; and I have lovely dishes. Grandpapa sent 'em to me. I have lots of nice times with my things, but there are too many to tell about. We had a nice time at a birthday party Saturday. I just started to school this fall. I will be seven years old to-morrow. Mamma "finks" my letter pretty nearly too long now, so I won't write any more. I'll try and not be "'spointed" if you can't print it, 'cause you have so many letters. Mamma's writing for me. Good-by.
Nellie D.
I am Charlie, Nellie's brother. I like all the stories so well, I can't tell which I like best. We can see the mountains from our doors and windows just as plain all the time, only when it's stormy. My kitty got up in mamma's lap at table the other day, and wanted to eat out of her plate. I had a live frog in a pail. One morning I went to school, and forgot to fill up the pail, and just as I came from school kitty had him. He killed him, and was going to eat him. I took him away, and gave him to the chickens, and spanked Sam—that's my kitty's name; I named him for grandpapa. I will be nine years old April 3, but it's so hard to write. Good-by.
Charles Fred D.
Brooklyn, New York.
I am eleven years old, and I save the pennies I get for doing errands to buy Harper's. I earned four dollars this season to help papa buy me a winter suit. I have been to Boston, and would like to live there all the time. I have only one sister, and she is my pet. She has a little white bantam hen for her pet. I have nine aunts, and I am going to write to them all some day, and send them one of my Harper's Magazines. Mamma wrote this letter, but I told her what to say. Good-by, from
Daniel A.