I am only five years old, and can not read or write yet, but my nurse reads me the stories in Young People every week, and I like them very much, and the pictures and the letters; and papa says I ought to send you a letter, and tell you how much I like it. So does my little sister Lulu, and she is only three years old, and I have got a little brother only three weeks old, but he hasn't any name yet. I told papa I would send a letter, but I could not write it, and he said it would be fair if Nurse Belle would write, only I must tell her what to put in—I and nobody else—and so I did it.
Lizzie F.
Lansing, Michigan.
A few days ago I was walking with a friend when we saw a rabbit in the road. We ran to catch it, but could not, for it ran too. Suddenly it stopped. My friend whistled, and then it ran right up to her, and we caught it. I suppose that rabbits like music.
Laura B.
Newton, New Hampshire.
I am going to tell you about a butterfly my brother Willie brought in from the woods this winter. It flew about the rooms for a few days, till one morning he seemed almost dead. Mamma took him to the door, and he flew away up over our barn and some great tall pine-trees. I am ten years old this winter.
L. Mabel Marston.