I have two canary-birds, but one of them will not sing. I had two pretty little guinea-pigs, but a big dog killed one of them, and ate it up. I am glad when the newsman brings Young People. Mamma reads all the stories to me.
Nannie Hayes.
St. Louis, Missouri.
I am eight years old. I am sick now with the measles, and mamma has read all the stories in the last Young People to me. I wish the next one would come. I have a little dog named Frolic. He will sit up, and turn over, and speak for something to eat.
Ned Bishop.
Boston, Massachusetts.
My name is "Wee Tot." My papa writes this letter for me. By-and-by I will write myself. I have shells, and ocean mosses, and stuffed birds that don't sing, and a big owl, and some alligators, and—oh! I don't know—lots of things. I wish some little boy or girl would send me some pressed flowers and grasses, and some pretty stones and leaves. Then I will send them some of my pretty things. I will put them in a tin case, and papa will send them in the Post-office.
"Wee Tot" Brainard,
257 Washington Street (Room 20), Boston.