Glenora, Mississippi.
My grandma gives Young People to my brother and myself, and we like it very much. I have no pets to write about, for my little pet deer, named Nettie, died. We live in the country, on the banks of a beautiful lake, and have a nice time fishing and taking skiff rides. I wish you could see the lovely magnolia-trees in my grandma's yard; and she has so many pretty roses too.
Louise B.
Bridgeport, Connecticut.
My papa is in Europe this summer, and he writes me very funny letters. His last one was from Paris, and he told me what people did when they wanted to take a bath in their room at the hotel. You touch an electric bell, and the man in the office telegraphs to a station, and a cart carrying a round boiler with hot and cold water, and drawn by a horse, comes dashing up to the hotel just like a fire engine; a man rushes up to your room with a tub and towels, and before you know it you are taking a nice warm bath. Papa said one day, just for fun, he rang for two baths at the same time, and it was very comical to see the two Frenchmen fight to see which bath should be used first. Papa makes little sketches all through his letters, so I know just how things look. I guess we shall all go to Europe another year, and then I will write you a letter from London or Paris.
Paul S.
Dansville, New York.
I am four and a half years old, and I can not read or write, but mamma is writing this for me. Papa has taken Harper's Weekly since 1865, and binds it himself, and now he takes Young People for me, and is going to bind that too. I love to look at the pictures and hear mamma read the stories in my paper as soon as it is sewed and cut.