THE BEAUTIFUL LAND OF NOD.
BY ELLA WHEELER.
Come, cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear—
Your head like the golden-rod—
And we will go sailing away from here
To the beautiful Land of Nod.
Away from life's worry and hurry and flurry,
Away from earth's shadows and gloom,
We will float off together to a world of fair weather,
Where blossoms are always in bloom.
Just shut up your eyes and fold your hands—
Your hands like the leaves of a rose—
And we will go sailing to those fair lands
That never an atlas shows.
On the north and west they are bounded by rest,
On the south and the east by dreams.
'Tis the country ideal where nothing is real,
But everything only seems.
Just drop down the curtain of your dear eyes—
Your eyes like the bright bluebell—
And we will sail out under star-lit skies
To the land where the fairies dwell.
Down the river of sleep our bark shall sweep
Till it reaches that magical isle
Which no man has seen, but where all have been,
And there we will pause awhile.
I will croon you a song as we float along
To that shore that is blessed of God.
Then, ho! for that fair land, we're off for that rare land,
The beautiful Land of Nod!
Beauclerc, Florida.
I want to tell you about a visit to Mayport, at the mouth of the St. John's River. My brother and I left here at two o'clock on a hot day in July, on the steamer Pastime. Arriving at Jacksonville at three, we had an hour to wait, but at four we stepped on board the Water Lily, and were soon on our way. We sat on deck, enjoying the sail. At half-past six we reached Mayport, where we met mamma.
Early the next morning I took a dip in the river, as I have learned to swim. It is easier to swim in salt-water than in fresh. The ocean is only two miles from Mayport, and we picked up on the beach quantities of sea-weed and shells. My brother found a beautiful jelly-fish washed far up on the shore.
They are building a great jetty here, but it will not be done for ten years. Immense granite blocks are brought from New York for the purpose. There were several kinds, all glittering with streaks of mica. When the jetty is finished it will be fourteen or fifteen feet high, or above high-water mark. It will then be cemented all over the top and sides. The channel is nearly in the middle, and about two hundred yards wide. The intention is to confine the water inside, and let it flow only through the channel. Mattresses of log and brush are first sunk, and then stones are placed in layers on top of them.
F. C. S.
The orange blossoms came safely. I fear the magnolia seeds of which you speak in your postscript would not thrive and germinate in the cold Northern climate. Your description of the jetty, or projecting pier, which you saw building shows that you go about with your bright eyes wide open.
Turin, New York.
I do not now go to school, as it is vacation, but school commences the 1st of September. I take music and painting lessons. I have painted but one picture, as I have taken only a few lessons yet. I went to Lyon's Falls yesterday. There was a large picnic there from Utica. The falls are very pretty, and there is a story about them that a long time ago an Indian was chasing a white man, and when they came to the edge of the falls, or just above (there is just above them quite a narrow place), the white man leaped over, but the Indian did not dare to follow. I did not like the way "Toby Tyler" ended, and I do not like the way "Mr. Stubbs's Brother" ends either.
L. S. R.
P.S.—Will you please tell me what Wiggles mean?
Wiggles are lines forming portions of the outlines of pictures. When a new Wiggle is given, it is a line which forms part of the outline of a picture already drawn by our artist. Those who try to solve the Wiggle problem draw a picture containing this line. Sometimes a little girl or boy happens to draw a picture which closely resembles the one which was the artist's idea when he drew the Wiggle which all are attempting.
We must ask Mr. Otis to make his next story end so happily that you and the other little women who complain of him will be pleased and satisfied. But we think that both stories conclude in a very natural way.
Fitchburg, Massachusetts.
I am five years old. My birthday was the 28th of May. I live on a farm in summer, and have nice times blueberrying and playing in the sand-heap which is near the house. My sister picked two quarts of berries the other day. My papa goes to Boston every morning, and comes home at night. Wednesday nights he brings home Young People, and I am very glad to see it. I like "Mr. Stubbs's Brother" very much, and I think it was too bad the monkey ran away. My sister is writing this for me, because I can only print. I have two sisters, and they go to school a mile and a half from here. It is very dry here, and a great many things are dying.
Philip Sidney W.
Chicago, Illinois.
I have no pets to tell about, not even a kitty, for my mamma dislikes both dogs and cats, and is afraid they may become mad, so she will not let us have them in the house. I suppose she knows best, because she is so much older and wiser than we children, but we can't help feeling a little bit sorry. We once had a pretty little yellow canary, but my uncle Horace took it to visit his canary and to help it build a nest. His cross old bird pecked off all our little pet's feathers, and it died. I suppose the old bird was jealous because ours could sing so well, and just killed it as Cain killed Abel. Though we have no birds or pets of any kind in our house, I am glad there are plenty of animals in Lincoln Park, and lots of birds there in the trees. Cruel boys sometimes frighten these birds and rob their nests. Can anything be more wicked than this conduct in boys? A great many sparrows make their home in some Virginia creepers that cover the front of our house. On Sunday last there was a great commotion in the vines, and we found after a while that it came from some old sparrows which were trying to make their young ones go out of the nest and earn their own living. By-and-by the young sparrows fluttered out of the vines to some trees near by, and then the noise stopped—and so must my writing, or you will think my letter too long to print.
Cecilia A. B. M.
Such letters as the one which follows are received with peculiar pleasure by the publishers of Young People:
Ohio State Library, Columbus, Ohio.
Though Harper's Young People is intended for that class of persons only, yet I trust it will not be unseemly for one of "older growth" to give expression to the entertainment and instruction derived from its pages. My interest, from the issue of the first number, continues as zealous as that of any boy or girl who anxiously awaits the coming chapters of "Mr. Stubbs's Brother." Not only are its serials intensely interesting, but each issue imparts also much useful knowledge. No greater or better source of instruction and amusement can be introduced in the family circle.
Wishing you continued success in this pioneer of children's literature.
I remain very respectfully yours,
Mary C. Harbaugh.
Assistant Librarian.
I want to tell you how much pleasure I get from your paper. I am twelve years old, and live on a homestead. I have no brother nor sister. I go two miles to Sunday-school, and papa teaches me at home. I help papa on the claim, picket the stock and water them twice a day, seven head of them. I shoot with a rifle or shot-gun, and kill plenty of duck, but have not hit a wolf or antelope yet. If the buffalo were as plenty as their bones are, I would have a splendid time.
I like all the articles in our Young People, but don't know how to wait for the continued stories. Sometimes I get more circus than Toby Tyler does. I ride the old cow or an ox, have a dog that understands a good deal of English, and like to work with my papa.
I will send agates or petrifactions, for 2 ounces of maple-seeds, or beech-nuts, or basswood-seeds, or for 1 ounce of barberry-seeds. Seeds to be sound, and fit for planting. I want a few pine-seeds, for minerals.
I ought to say that my Harper's is a Christmas present, and it makes my Christmas last one year.
Dannie D. Sharp.
Olivet, Hutchinson Co., Dakota.
Olney Farm, Harford County, Maryland.
I am a little boy ten years old. I have a very little pony, about the size of a sheep, and it is perfectly white. I also have a kitten and squirrels. I have three brothers, and this summer they have all gone to Europe. My brother John has left me his pug Scamp to take care of, and that brother has given me Harper's Young People for my Christmas gift ever since it began. I have been sick, and I can hardly wait to hear the stories.
J. Alexis S.
Acton, Canada.
I am a little boy seven years old. I was born in New York State, but we came to Canada to live four years ago. My papa is a clergyman, and has a parish here in Acton, but when I get to be a man I am going back to the States to live. I go to school. Please don't give Toby a new hat; we like him just as he is best. My papa says we would not know him with a new hat on. My brother Frank and I have a pet dog and a rabbit. We went on a trip to a beautiful lake last summer, and one day, when out in a boat fishing, my papa saw a little black bear come down to the water to get a drink.
Reginald P.
You see, dear, the artist thought just as you did, that Master Toby Tyler was quite jolly enough in his old hat.
Toronto, Canada.
I am a boy ten years old. I like "Mr. Stubbs's Brother" very much. I go to the Upper Canada College; I like it very much. We have five horses; their names are Jumbo, Billy, his brother Jean, Ted, and Duke, the largest and gentlest. When the driver goes into the stall, Duke puts his head on his shoulder. If you give Jumbo an orange, he will eat it. I like cricket and foot-ball best of all the games. I am drilling at school; we have a sergeant to drill us. I like boating and swimming; I can swim pretty well now. I think fencing is splendid fun. We have a Zoo here. There is a man who puts his head into the alligator's mouth. Then he goes into the bear's and panther's cages. There is the largest Russian bear in the world here. We had no sleighing here last winter, but I went up to Owen Sound, and had some there in my Christmas holidays.
Arthur V.
San Francisco, California.
I am a little girl ten years old. On Friday last mamma, papa, and I left, with some friends, on a trip to Mount Diablo. We started at eleven o'clock in the morning. Part of the way we went in a stage-coach, and had four horses. We went to a hotel that had been shut up for a long time. There were beds, but no bedding. It was after ten o'clock at night before we went to get dinner, and after one before we got to bed. We took blankets, as we thought it would be cold in the mountains, but, instead it was 110° in the shade. We went to the very top of one of the highest mountains of California.
Nannie D.
Claremont, Minnesota.
I love to read Harper's Young People, it is so interesting. I am nine years old, and have been at school nine terms. I like to go to school. We have a dog by the name of Watch, I have some doves, and we have a cat. We have a great many flowers here. We have some up at school. I like to pick flowers. Do any of the little girls ever pick lady-slippers? They have a very pretty flower. I have a swing; it goes up pretty high. I like to swing. My brother put the swing up. My sister is my teacher this summer.
Gertrude L. G.
Take care not to swing too high, nor too long at a time. Lady-slippers are pretty, and are prettily named, too.
C. Y. P. R. U.
WHAT TO READ.
Dear Postmistress,—What books would you read if you were fourteen years old, had never been away from home, and were very fond of exciting novels?
John C.
It is a great pity that you should have formed a taste for exciting novels at fourteen, but if I were you, I would overcome it by reading interesting and entertaining books which are true. Fact is often stranger and more thrilling than fiction. As you have never been away from home, why not take up books of travel? You can sit at ease in your own room, or perched in a crotch of the apple-tree, or half hidden in a heap of fragrant hay, and go with Miss Bird to Japan, with Arthur Arnold to Persia, with Miss Cumming to the Feejee Islands, or with Du Chaillu to the Land of the Midnight Sun. There is hardly an out-of-the-way corner of our globe to which some brave traveller has not gone, and while reading the story of adventure or peril which the traveller relates, you will learn a great deal, and will cure yourself of a love for that sort of reading which is a mere waste of time.
A Little Heroine.—The Postmistress mentions with honor the name of Edith Baxter, of New York City. One bright afternoon in August, as the children at the Avon Beach Hotel, Bath, Long Island, were playing on the shore and in the surf, a little fellow named Harry Lee, five years old, followed his companions to a float, on which he stepped without thought of danger. Seeing them dive from it, he did the same. Presently a cry was heard that Harry was drowning. Edith Baxter, a fearless little swimmer, plunged in to the rescue, and as Harry came to the surface for the third time, she caught and held him by his golden hair, and boldly struck out for the shore. Help came, and the boy was saved. His grateful parents and the other guests of the hotel presented Edith with a beautiful gold watch and chain as a token of their admiration of her bravery.
Stapleton, New York.
Dear Postmistress,—Will you kindly suggest some nice game or games for a party of "grown-ups" on a summer's evening? If possible, I should like something which can be played outside on the piazza of a country house. If you will kindly help me, I shall be very much indebted to you.
Puzzled Inquirer.
The season for sitting out-doors in the evening is almost over, but there are many pleasant games which are equally suitable for the veranda or the parlor. What do you think of this one? A group of friends are seated together, and one begins by asking the company, "If you had your choice, which would you be, a dragon-fly or an eel?" The word to be brought into your answer is Roses.
A bright answer would be this:
"The dragon-fly at eve reposes
Upon a couch of fragrant roses,
The eel in mud must hide away;
A dragon-fly I'd be to-day."
Another: Bring in the word Cobweb in reply to the question, "How would you like to travel in the air?"
Answer:
"I confess I should not greatly care
To float like a cobweb in the air."
The game of Twenty Questions is very entertaining. One of the company leaves the room, and during his absence the others fix upon a word to be guessed by him. We will suppose Charley to have gone out. The Electric Telegraph is chosen as the subject for him to find, and he is recalled. They then proceed in this way:
Honora. We have fixed on a word. Can you guess it?
Charley. Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?
Mary (who is asked). Mineral.
Charley. Can it buy anything?
Anna. I think it can; at least I could buy things by means of it.
Charley. Oh, I guess! I suppose banks can't do without it, Ned, can they?
Edward. I dare say they find it useful.
Charley. Anthony, do you ever keep it in your pocket?
Anthony (laughing). No; that I don't.
Charley. Is it ever put in a purse, Fanny?
Fanny. No indeed; it is so big.
Charley (catching at a new idea). Then I was wrong; it is not money. Does it cross the sea?
Mary. Yes. I think it does—that is, I believe it does sometimes.
Charley. Does it go very quickly?
Honora. It works very, very quickly.
Charley. It works? It does not go, then, of itself? Is it used on railways?
Honora (laughing). Yes.
Charley. Does it pull you along sometimes, Mabel?
Mabel. No, it does not; but sometimes it causes people to travel.
Charley. Is it very large?
Anna. No; very thin.
Charley. How long is it?
Fanny. Sometimes miles long, sometimes very short. I have seen it not as long as my finger.
Charley. What can it be?
Anthony. It is a very wonderful thing; it speaks without a voice.
Charley. Ah! and you can tell the hours by it, can't you? But no, it can't be a clock, for the face of that is round, and it is not very thin. I know! I guess! It is the "Electric Telegraph." Anthony, you have helped me to guess; you must go out. But, Anna, how could you buy things with it?
Anna. I could send an order by it to a shop.
Charley. And when did Fanny see it not longer than her finger?
Anna. She saw a tiny piece of the Atlantic telegraph cable, the first one which was laid beneath the ocean. Aunt Maria had it set a charm for her watch.
Anthony goes out.
The attention of the C. Y. P. R. U. is called to an exceedingly interesting article by Mrs. Sophie B. Herrick, entitled "Plants and Animals—Their Difference." Both girls and boys will be interested in the game of "Badminton," described by Sherwood Ryse, as also in Miss Barr's poem, "The Burial of the Old Flag."
Correct answers to puzzles have been received from Christina Limburger, Annie South, Eddie S. Hequembourg, Samuel H. Molleson, A. Bloomingdale, Walter P. Knight, Daniel Lindo, Frank Acheson, "Gazetta," Louis Frost, Lena Van Bosch, Ella E. A., Harry Johnston, Fannie E. Burt, Florence P. Jones, "Lodestar," Benjamin Lowenthal, Phebe D., A. W. Starboard, Beck Pierce, Puss Lester, John Tabb, "Count No Account," Olive A. McAdams, Louisa Mix, Thomas Brown, "Gretchen," Elsie Fisher, Jimmy Towers, and Eugene Davison.
PUZZLES FROM YOUNG CONTRIBUTORS.
No. 1.
CHARADE.
My first is needed both for man and beast
If they their destined end would best pursue.
My second may describe a kingly feast,
Or tell about a heart both brave and true.
My whole a star-and-spur-stamped coin of gold,
Which, if we learn aright, is now four centuries old.
J. P. B.