I thought perhaps the Postmistress would like to hear from a boy who lives in the far West. My brother Wroy and I earned by herding the money that brings to us the weekly visits of Young People, and we hail it with joy. Only some weeks it does not come, and then we wonder what can be the matter, and go home very sad. "Talking Leaves" is the best story I ever read. I will be sorry when it is done.
Wroy and I have been practicing "spring and fall styles for boys," springing from the millet stack, and falling on the millet that is spread out to be threshed. It is fun, and threshes the millet too. Papa has been away all winter, so we take care of mamma and sister Zella, feed and herd forty head of cattle, yoke up old Ben and Sam and haul wood and chips, and do whatever mamma tells us.
Zella and I have sixteen turkeys. We want to raise two hundred this year. Wroy has ten Pekin ducks; they are pure white, and look very handsome as they swim around over our Home Lake.
But I must close, and if this letter is published, I may write more of our frontier life another time.
Walter William C.
Something wrong, we fear, about the mails in your neighborhood, Walter, when you fail to receive your paper. We hope it seldom happens. You and your brother are leading a very manly life, with plenty to do, to think of, and to enjoy, and we will be pleased to hear from you again.
Madison, Wisconsin.
I thought I would write you, and tell you about my pets. I have a bob-tailed kitten; it was born without a tail. They are called Manx cats. I have a dog named Gip; he is so fat that mamma is ashamed to take him up town with her. I have six large dolls. One of them is a boy doll named Fred, after my uncle in Dakota. I had all my Harper's Young People bound this winter, and they make a lovely book. I attend a private school, and the school-room is fitted up beautifully, with a Brussels carpet and lace curtains.
Helen Julia K.
Since you have so pleasant a school-room, I suppose you find it very easy to study, and so make great progress. I wish a number of the little correspondents would write about their school-rooms. I had charming times at one to which I was sent when about eight years old. There was no carpet. Instead of curtains, there were faded shades of green paper. The school-master sat at a battered desk at the head of the room. On one side were the boys, and on the other the girls. The girls used to play at noon under a mighty oak-tree. We had picnics there nearly every day, with oak-leaf plates and a tin dipper for a goblet. Do any of my little friends have such picnic parties now?
I thought I would write and tell you about a pet I had; it was a canary-bird. It would sit on my finger when I would put it in the cage. Its name was Dicky. It was only a young bird, and could not sing very well. I am thirteen years old. I would like to exchange with any little girl or boy a 5-cent piece dated 1775 and a fifth of a Chinese penny, for the best offer.