I thought you might like to know about "Dr. Pruitt's boys," so I concluded to write you a letter. I am Will, aged twelve; then there are Fred, Edward, and Charley. Papa takes Harper's Monthly, and mamma takes the Bazar, and when Young People was advertised papa proposed that each of us give something and take that too. We four boys earned just one hundred dollars picking cotton last fall, so we all contributed. We like the paper very much, and watch for its coming; and we read everything in it.
Will E. Pruitt.
Grand Island, Nebraska.
I am ten years old. My uncle takes Young People for me, and I can hardly wait until it comes. I have got the elephant on his four legs, and he looks well. I have a little prairie-dog named Jenny. It lives in a hole in the yard, where I think it must have a good nest, for I gave it lots of rags last fall to put in the hole. It comes to the house almost every day to get something to eat, and seems glad to see us. I have also a little dog named Frisk, only I sold one-half interest in him yesterday for twenty-five cents to a doctor who lives next door. He wanted him for his baby to play with. Can you tell me what kind of a place a junk-shop is?
Harry K. Heffleman.
A junk-shop is where old ropes, old anchors, old iron, and cast-off odds and ends of all kinds are kept for sale. There are many such shops to be found in every large city, and if it is a seaport, they are generally located near the waterfront, as a vast quantity of such rubbish is picked up along the wharves. In New York city junk dealers drive wagons round the streets, and buy old stoves or any worn-out household goods.
Lonoke, Arkansas.
I found in mamma's front yard, near a brick wall, a little pansy, which I send you. It bloomed out the 29th of January.