AN INTERVAL NOT ON THE PROGRAMME.
I'm told that at Pompeii, Italy, in the year 79, a play was being acted in one of the theaters, when a storm of cinders fell, buried the whole city, and, of course, put a stop to the play, which has never been completed. A few months ago, however, an operatic manager named Languri made up his mind to have a new theater just where the old one stood; so, he printed in the Italian newspapers a notice that ran something like this:
"After a lapse of eighteen hundred years, the theater of Pompeii will be re-opened, with the opera of 'La Figlia del Reggimento.' I ask the continuation of the favor shown to my predecessor, Marcus Quintus Martius, and beg to assure the public that I shall make every effort to equal the rare qualities he displayed during his management."
If only Marcus Quintus Martius and his actors, and musicians, and the ancient audience, could have been at that re-opening of their long-buried theater, how they would have stared!
[THE LETTER-BOX.]
Our older boys and girls will find in this number an excellent article on "Parlor Magic," in which they are told, by Professor Leo Grindon, one of the Faculty of the Royal School of Chemistry in Manchester, England, how to perform some very interesting, and in some cases, quite astonishing experiments in chemistry, optics, etc. Some of our readers may be familiar with a few of these experiments, but the majority of them will be found novel to nearly all young people. Occasionally, there are materials or ingredients called for, which are somewhat expensive, and some of the experiments require a good deal of time and patience. But these are the exceptions, for nearly all the experiments described in the article can be performed by any careful and intelligent boy or girl of fourteen or fifteen, in a short time and at a very small cost.
Of course, in getting up a little "Parlor Magic Entertainment" it will not be necessary to try all the experiments described. Choose such as you think you can perform without fail, and which will be likely to interest the company you expect. Be careful not to try to do too many things in one evening, and, if possible, make each experiment in private, before you attempt to show your friends how it is done. This will not be necessary in every case, but if you make an experiment, for the first time, before company, be sure that you know exactly what you are going to do and how it ought to be done.
One more thing, the most important of all, we would impress on the mind of every reader of St. Nicholas who tries any of these experiments, and that is the necessity for great care in handling and disposing of the chemical ingredients which may be used. Some of these, although perfectly harmless, when used as directed, are very injurious, if tasted, or even smelt very closely; and although the performer may himself be very prudent and careful with his materials and apparatus, he must not give the slightest opportunity to young children, or indeed any one who has not studied up the subject, to handle his chemicals.
With careful attention to the directions given in the article, a pleasant evening entertainment may easily be had, and if an occasional failure should take place, both the performer and the company should remember that an experiment is only a trial, and cannot be expected always to succeed.
Dear St. Nicholas: I went over to my uncle's one Saturday lately, to tea, and had baked beans. He never eats vinegar on them, excepting some made in January, 1851, when 40 gallons were frozen in 53 quart bottles. He told me there was no other such vinegar in the United States, and if I could hear of any one who has some prepared like it, and as old, he would give me as handsome a doll as I wanted. My object is to ask you to please publish my letter, and I may receive the doll, which I want very much, and oblige, with many thanks, one of your subscribers.
L.D.H.
London, England.
Dear St. Nicholas: We are traveling in Europe for a short time, and I thought, perhaps, you might like to hear a short account of our journey. First, we went to Chester, one of the oldest cities in England. It is inclosed by a wall two miles around, which was built 1800 years ago. The "Rows" of Chester are very strange and interesting. They are rows of stores in the second stories of houses—with a sidewalk in front, supported by pillars and covered overhead. One may walk out on a rainy day and do a great variety of shopping without being at all exposed to the weather. The sidewalks below these rows, and on a level with the middle of the street are dingy and shabby, lined with forlorn looking little places inhabited by the poorer class.
There is an old house standing in an alley, in the garret of which one of the earls of Derby was hidden for three months.
A small part of an old church, which was built 200 A. D., still stands, and is one of the curiosities. There is also a tower where King Charles II stood and saw his army defeated, only, that was before he became king. Next we went to Stratford-on-Avon, where we saw Shakespeare's house, and I sat in his chair.
We lunched at the Red Horse Inn, in the room which Washington Irving had when he was there. I also sat in his chair. In the afternoon we went to Shakespeare's other house and gardens. He had two homes, but he only lived in one until he was seventeen years old.
We are now in London, and have been to see a few of the principal places. Westminster Abbey is one of the great sights. We saw a sitting figure of a duchess who died from the effects of lock-jaw, caused by pricking her finger with a needle, while at needle work on Sunday.
We also saw St. Paul's Cathedral, where there is a whispering gallery, so called, because, if you whisper on one side of the gallery, it may be heard on the other side as distinctly as if you were over there.
The South Kensington Museum contains a great many curiosities, and some of the things which Doctor Schliemann has dug up.
The National Art Gallery contains a great many beautiful pictures, and one room is devoted to Turner's paintings.
We have also been to see the Tower, where the little princes were murdered; they do not take you into the room where they stayed; but St. Nicholas gave us a fine picture of that in January of 1874. We shall start for Paris soon.—From your little friend,
Mamie Charles.
"Mother." Unpainted, strong and really amusing playthings, such as you inquire for, are to be found, we think, in almost any large toy-store. Animals, wagons, and various amusing things cut out of plain wood, abound nowadays, and they can be sent you by express from your nearest town. In our experience, however, we have found building blocks of most lasting interest to the little folks. Crandall's are the best, for they admit of an endless variety of combination.
Washington, D. C.
My Dear St. Nicholas: I have a little sister, named Josie, who is six years old. She can read only a little, and she does not like to do it at all. She has plenty of toys, and a nice baby-house, but often she gets tired of playing and then comes to me to know what to do.
Now, I want to know if you cannot tell me something for her to do that will keep her quiet? I have another sister who is nine years old, but no brother.—Your loving reader,
Anita R. Newcomb.
Anita may find a satisfactory hint in the answer to "Mother" given above. Also, the Kinder Garten games that are now used in many schools for very little folks may be of service to Josie.
London, Eng.
Dear St. Nicholas: I have just arrived in England. When we were fairly out at sea, the first thing I did was to explore the great ship. It was four hundred feet long, made entirely of iron, and sank twenty feet deep in the water. The masts were of hollow iron, and seventy feet high. It took nine furnaces and forty tons of coal a day to keep the ship going. The crew numbered a hundred and thirty-five. It seems very wonderful that a great heavy iron ship should not sink; the reason it does not is that it is lighter than the water it displaces.
When we were a few days out, a flock of land-birds rested on our ship. We fed them with crumbs, and brought dishes of fresh water on deck for them, but after a day or two they disappeared. A little further on, a hawk alighted on the vessel, and one of the sailors caught it when it was asleep.
To find out how fast we were going, the sailors threw the "log," which was no log at all, but a long thin rope with a small three-cornered canvas bag at one end. They throw out the bag, and it catches in the water and keeps the end of the rope steady. The rope runs out as the ship goes. One sailor stands with a time-glass, which holds as much sand as will fall in one minute from one half of it into the other. The glass is turned just when a certain mark on the rope passes over the rail, and, when all the sand has run, the rope is stopped. As the rope has lengths marked on it by bits of colored cloth, the sailors can tell how far the ship has gone in one minute, and can roughly calculate from that its rate of speed by the hour. Formerly a real log of wood was used instead of the bag.
The greatest event of the voyage was seeing a school of whales. There were dozens of them spouting and showing their backs above water. Another exciting thing was meeting a ship so near that we could salute it, which is done by hoisting and then lowering the flag once or twice. Ships have flags of different kinds, and each has its own meaning. So by hoisting certain flags, the captains of distant ships can exchange news.
When nearing the Irish coast, a dense fog settled upon us, so that we could hardly see from one end of the ship to the other. All day and all night the great fog-whistle was kept blowing to warn other vessels that might be in our neighborhood. To see a light house or landmark was impossible, but the captain found out where we were by soundings. Every ship has a long piece of lead with a hole in one end which is filled with tallow. The other end is fastened to a rope, and the lead is thrown overboard and sinks to the bottom. When hauled up, some of the sea-bottom is found stuck to the tallow, and from this and the depth of the water, the captain knows where he is, for the kinds of sand and mud at the bottom of the sea, and the varying depths of water, are plainly marked on his charts.
I cannot describe to you what a welcome sight the land was, after seeing nothing but water for so long. But when we had left the great ship behind, it seemed almost as if we were leaving home, glad though I was to get ashore.
Your loving reader, F. D.
A correspondent sends us the series of "Beheaded Rhymes" which we print below. Each of the stanzas contains two examples of this kind of rhyming, and, in each example, the first blank is to be filled with a word that suits both the sense and the measure. The next blank that occurs is filled with all of the chosen word except its first letter; and this process goes on until the word can no longer be beheaded and yet leave another word. The making of such "Beheaded Rhymes" as these, in company, to see who can succeed best, sometimes whiles away very pleasantly a long evening of disagreeable weather.