Clarksville, Nebraska.
I want to tell you about a ride I had the other day with papa and mamma. We drove out about four miles from here, to a prairie-dog town, where we saw hundreds of these little animals playing about in the sunshine. The prairie-dogs are very curious little creatures. They dig their holes, throwing out the earth so as to make quite a mound. They look very cunning from a distance, standing on their hind-legs. Some were near their holes, ready to jump in as soon as we drove near. Others, which were a good way off from their homes, scampered back as fast as they could. Their town covered about a section of land, so you can see they have quite a large city.
Paul Beardsley.
Brooklyn, New York.
Last spring we had a pretty pair of canaries, and we raised five little birds. They were dear little things, and before we gave any of them away it was great fun to watch them play together. One was very light yellow, nearly white, another was dark yellow, two were spotted with green, and one was all very dark green. The green one was the prettiest of all, but it always fought for the best place in the cage, and pecked at all the others; but if they fought, they always made up after it. The yellow one was very tame, and would come right to our hands to eat. The lightest one died, and the others we gave away, but we were very sorry to part with them.
Froggie.
The following was written in big printed letters:
If you put Froggie's letter in your paper, I hope you will put mine in. I can't write as he can, because I am only five years old. I like your paper very much. Froggie reads it to me, and I read the pictures myself. I like that picture of the pussy.