A Pirate Story:—Tell an old-fashioned "yarn" of adventure, in which a modest hero relates his own experiences. Give your imagination a good deal of liberty. Do not waste much time in getting started, but plunge very soon into the actual story. Let your hero tell how he fell among the pirates. Then go on with the conversation that ensued—the threats, the boasting, and the bravado. Make the hero report his struggles, or the tricks that he resorted to in order to outwit the sea-rovers. Perhaps he failed at first and got into still greater dangers. Follow out his adventures to the moment of his escape. Make your descriptions short and vivid; put in as much direct conversation as possible; keep the action brisk and spirited. Try to write a lively tale that would interest a group of younger boys.
COLLATERAL READINGS
| To Have and to Hold | Mary Johnston |
| Prisoners of Hope | " " |
| The Long Roll | " " |
| Cease Firing | " " |
| Audrey | " " |
| The Virginians | W.M. Thackeray |
| White Aprons | Maude Wilder Goodwin |
| The Gold Bug | Edgar Allan Poe |
| Treasure Island | R.L. Stevenson |
| Kidnapped | " " |
| Ebb Tide | " " |
| Buccaneers and Pirates of our Coast | Frank R. Stockton |
| Kate Bonnett | " " |
| Drake | Julian Corbett |
| Drake and his Yeomen | James Barnes |
| Drake, the Sea-king of Devon | G.M. Towle |
| Raleigh | " " |
| Red Rover | J.F. Cooper |
| The Pirate | Walter Scott |
| Robinson Crusoe | Daniel Defoe |
| Two Years before the Mast | R.H. Dana |
| Tales of a Traveller (Part IV) | Washington Irving |
| Nonsense Novels (chapter 8) | Stephen Leacock |
| The Duel (in The Master of Ballantrae, chapter 4) | R.L. Stevenson |
| The Lost Galleon (poem) | Bret Harte |
| Stolen Treasure | Howard Pyle |
| Jack Ballister's Fortunes | " " |
| Buried Treasure | R.B. Paine |
| The Last Buccaneer (poem) | Charles Kingsley |
| The Book of the Ocean | Ernest Ingersoll |
| Ocean Life in the Old Sailing-Ship Days | J.D. Whidden |
For Portraits of Miss Johnston, see Bookman, 20:402; 28:193.
THE GRASSHOPPER
EDITH M. THOMAS
Shuttle of the sunburnt grass,
Fifer in the dun cuirass,
Fifing shrilly in the morn,
Shrilly still at eve unworn;
Now to rear, now in the van,
Gayest of the elfin clan:
Though I watch their rustling flight,
I can never guess aright
Where their lodging-places are;
'Mid some daisy's golden star,
Or beneath a roofing leaf,
Or in fringes of a sheaf,
Tenanted as soon as bound!
Loud thy reveille doth sound,
When the earth is laid asleep,
And her dreams are passing deep,
On mid-August afternoons;
And through all the harvest moons,
Nights brimmed up with honeyed peace,
Thy gainsaying doth not cease.
When the frost comes, thou art dead;
We along the stubble tread,
On blue, frozen morns, and note
No least murmur is afloat:
Wondrous still our fields are then,
Fifer of the elfin men!