[WHO CAN ANSWER?]
BY GRACE A. CANNON.
The question's not a new one, dear,
But one that ev'ry day
Comes to some girls and boys I know
While at their work or play.
My Nanny comes to me at morn,
And with beseeching look,
Asks me if I can tell her where
She'll find her slate or book.
And Teddy comes to me and says,
Sometimes with downcast eye,
"Mamma dear, won't you please to come
And help me find my tie?"
And Alice, too, comes with a frown
When going out for play;
"Oh dear, mamma, what did I do
With my hat yesterday?"
No hat is found out in the hall;
The book's not in its case;
No tie is found upstairs to be
In its accustomed place.
Now me the reason tell, my dear,
And quickly, if you can,
Why all these things may not be found
By Alice, Ted, or Nan?
The question's not a new one, dear,
But one that ev'ry day
Comes to some girls and boys I know
While at their work or play.
BY PAUL DU CHAILLU.
Part I.
Dear young folks of Harper's Round Table, I have been invited by my friend, the Editor, to write for you a series of stories in which I shall tell you of some of the adventures that have happened to me in the great equatorial forest which begins on the west coast at the sea-shore and stretches far to the east on both sides of the equator, adventures which I have not told in Stories of the Gorilla Country, Lost in the Jungle, Wild Life Under the Equator, My Apingi Kingdom, and The Country of the Dwarfs, five books which I wrote especially for you.