BOOKS OF THE NEW TESTAMENT.
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In the New Testament we find Matthew and Mark leading, With St. Luke and St. John The books next succeeding. Acts and Romans have place Before Corinthians and Galatians; In them we can trace Good news for all nations. Ephesians and Philippians In order are next; Colossians, Thessalonians, With hard names and good text. Timothy, Titus, and Philemon Fill up some pages, And with Hebrews continue The lessons of ages. James, Peter, and John Finish then the good story With Jude, and Revelations To add to its glory. |
Mount Desert.
Dear St. Nicholas: I have seen a good many receipts for candy in the "Letter-Box," but not one for chocolate creams. Here is one I have tried a great many times, and it has always been successful:
Two cups of sugar to half a cup of boiling water. Put on the stove, and let it boil ten minutes. Grate a quarter of a square of Baker's chocolate. Place this on the top of a steaming-kettle; leave it there until soft. Meanwhile, take off the cream and beat it until perfectly white. Roll into little round balls, and dip them in the chocolate. Put the balls into a dish, and set them away to cool.
Hoping you will print this receipt, I remain your devoted admirer,
Caroline G. Blodget.
P. S.—The sugar must be powdered.
Mollie.—We do not know. One always has to make sure, too, that no speck of envy lurks in the wish to have justice done.
A friend sends us the following Kindergarten song:
THE TIME TABLE
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One, two, three! Now please listen to me: A minute is sixty seconds long; Sixty minutes to an hour belong. One, two, three! Learning is easy, you see. Four, five, six! 'Tis easy as picking up sticks. Twenty-four hours make one long day; Seven days in a week we say. One, two, three! Learning is easy, you see. Seven, eight, nine! Never cry or whine. The years are only twelve months long; There is no time for doing wrong. One, two, three! Learning is easy, you see. Tick, tack, tock! Only look at the clock. He works away the whole day long, And every hour he sings a song. Ding, dong, ding! So we'll work and sing. |
A. E. L.
Elizabeth, N. J.
My Dear St. Nicholas: Would you please tell me something about the Drawing Classes of the School of Design at the Cooper Institute; and what forms have to be gone through before a pupil can enter; and how old a pupil has to be? Good-by, dear St. Nicholas.—Your faithful reader,
Sarah D. O.
The "Woman's Art School" of the Cooper Union, about which Sarah D. O. makes inquiry, is for pupils between the ages of sixteen and thirty-five.
Applications for admission should be made, personally or in writing, to the Principal, Mrs. Sarah N. Carter, giving a responsible written reference as to character, fitness, etc.
The free school holds session from 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. There is a "paying" class that meets three times a week in the afternoon, under the charge of the first assistant in drawing of the "Woman's Art School" and of the clerk of the school, and the general superintendence of the principal. But the "paying" class is only for those who wish to study art merely as an accomplishment.
Dear St. Nicholas: I thought you would like to hear about a little girl who is very fond of you. She always took St. Nicholas until last autumn, then the times were so hard we were unable to get it for her; so she has read and re-read the old ones. Mamma has been sick a great deal for two years, and Agnes, who is ten years old and the oldest of the family, has learned to do a great many things. She can make bread, biscuit, pies and cake,—but her chief accomplishment is toast-making. Last fall, when berries were ripe, she picked and dried some currants, raspberries and blackberries, and put them carefully away. Ever since, when any one is sick, she puts some of her berries in a cup and cooks them nicely; then she makes such a nice piece of toast, so delicate, never scorched or raw. She has no fruit-closet of delicacies to go to, but the common things she has are so nicely prepared that they become luxurious, and often make mamma think of Bayard Taylor's little rhymes about mush and milk, a couplet of which reads:
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"And common things that seem most nigh, Both purse and heart may satisfy." |
Her little brother, eighteen months old, claims much of her care, and in return loves her as much as he does mamma. He calls her Tee, and misses her sadly if she is out of sight an hour.
When Agnes was three years old, she said one day:
"Papa, how I love you!"
"What makes you love him? See how homely he is," teasingly answered mamma.
The little one took a good look at papa, and throwing her arms around his neck again, she said:
"Well, he's pretty in his heart."
Mamma thinks the little girl who can be so thoughtful for ever-tired mamma, so kind to the sick, and so tender of little baby brother, must be pretty in her heart.
Agnes's Mother.
Here is an enigma made by a little girl eight years of age:
Cross-word Enigma.
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My first is in spin, but not in weave; My second in part, but not in leave; My third is in rain, but not in storm; My fourth in chilly, but not in warm; My fifth in hen, but not in coop; My whole is a country of Europe. |
Answer: Spain.
Easton, Md.
Dear St. Nicholas: Will you please tell me from which of Shakspeare's plays the following quotation is taken?
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"Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head." |
—Yours truly,
Mary H. Wilson.
The quotation is from "As You Like It," Act II., Scene 1.; and the whole passage reads:
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"Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything." |
The beauty is marred, and the aptness of the illustration is lost sight of, by omitting the second half of this admirable sentence; therefore we quote it entire.
"Fairfax," San Rafael, Cal.
Dear St. Nicholas: I have seen letters from San Francisco, Oakland, and other places in California, but I do not think any one has written to you from San Rafael, a beautiful little town near San Francisco.
"Fairfax" is about three miles from the town. The ride here is very pleasant, especially in winter and spring time, when the hills are green and the wild flowers are in bloom.
The house resembles the old Fairfax house in Virginia, called Greenway Court, except that this is perhaps more rambling and the other lacks our wide-spreading bay-trees. It faces the garden and orchard, and beyond these is the hill, a mine of wonder and beauty.
We all enjoy climbing that hill and looking for ferns. In some parts we hardly dare step, for fear of crushing something beautiful. We look down upon a bank of green moss, and find snowy, shell-like fungi, so delicate that we hold our breath lest they should float away. Farther on are orange-colored ones, and some shaped like callas, translucent, and in color a pale pink carnelian. Wandering on, we enter a grove of pine-trees, in the midst of which a spring is bubbling up, and the ground is covered with a carpet of ferns, mosses, and wild flowers. By the time we are ready to go home, our baskets are well filled; and then, after we get home, we have the delight of arranging the flowers and ferns, examining the fungi with the microscope, and preparing imposing baskets of specimens to send to two delightful members of the Academy of Science in San Francisco, who are making fungi a specialty in their researches.
One day last summer my brother came running into the house, saying, in a very loud whisper, "There's a deer in the creek! There's a deer in the creek!" We all rushed out in time to see Uncle George, up to his waist in water, struggling with an immense buck. The dogs were there, too, barking as loudly as they could. It was very exciting. My sympathies were entirely with the deer, who made a noble fight before he was conquered. Deer are plentiful around here. Often we are awakened by the baying of the deer-hounds, and we can see the hunting parties on their horses galloping over the hill, and the dogs running to and fro.
The boys catch a good many large fish in our creek, and my uncle once caught a ten-pound salmon-trout that was very pretty; it had two delicate pink bands running along its sides.
The hills are crimson, a little before Christmas, with a holly peculiar to California; and we have many merry excursions in a wagon that we children call our "chariot," in which we go to gather holly for our Christmas festivities.
I have written too much, and yet I would like to tell more, our days are so full of pleasant change.—Your affectionate reader,
May D. Bigelow (fifteen years old).
Answers to Puzzles in the November Number were received, previous to November 18, from Annie Longfellow, "Bess," "Isola," "Bessie and her Cousin," "Helen of Troy," W. M. B., Nessie E. Stevens, "Winnie," Florence L. Turrill, James J. Ormsbee, Annie Forbush and Emma Elliott, Grace G. Chandler, Carrie Speiden and Mary F. Speiden, F. A. G. Cameron, Fred M. Pease, Geo. J. Fiske, Geo. Herbert White, "Sidonie," Louise Gilman, Clelia Duel Mosher, Mamie L. Holbrook, Ellie Hewitt, Fannie W., "Croghan, Jr.," Anna E. Mathewson, Eddie Bryan, and Allie Bertram.