I am Charlie, Nellie's brother. I like all the stories so well, I can't tell which I like best. We can see the mountains from our doors and windows just as plain all the time, only when it's stormy. My kitty got up in mamma's lap at table the other day, and wanted to eat out of her plate. I had a live frog in a pail. One morning I went to school, and forgot to fill up the pail, and just as I came from school kitty had him. He killed him, and was going to eat him. I took him away, and gave him to the chickens, and spanked Sam—that's my kitty's name; I named him for grandpapa. I will be nine years old April 3, but it's so hard to write. Good-by.
Charles Fred D.
Brooklyn, New York.
I am eleven years old, and I save the pennies I get for doing errands to buy Harper's. I earned four dollars this season to help papa buy me a winter suit. I have been to Boston, and would like to live there all the time. I have only one sister, and she is my pet. She has a little white bantam hen for her pet. I have nine aunts, and I am going to write to them all some day, and send them one of my Harper's Magazines. Mamma wrote this letter, but I told her what to say. Good-by, from
Daniel A.
C. Y. P. R. U.
The Postmistress is very happy to give the readers of Our Post-office Box the pleasure of reading a description of the little yacht Toby Tyler, now cruising in Southern waters:
Dear "Young People,"—The Toby Tyler, named after the hero of Mr. Otis's most successful story, is a very small steamer, being only about forty-five feet in length, and drawing but three feet of water. She was built so small and of such light draught because it is intended that she shall explore most of the rivers on the west coast of Florida, some of which are very shallow. Perhaps she will go farther than Florida, and explore a country that abounds in material for interesting adventures and thrilling stories.
As the Toby is so small, she can not go away out to sea and around Cape Hatteras, like the great steam-ships that carry passengers to Florida. She has to take what is known as the "inland passage."
After leaving her dock at the foot of West Twenty-ninth Street, in New York, the Toby steamed down the North or Hudson River until she passed the Battery. Then she was in the Upper Bay. Crossing this, and turning to the westward, she steamed along the north shore of Staten Island, through the broad river-like body of water called the Kill Von Kull. Passing New Brighton and the Sailors' Sung Harbor and Elizabethport, through the Arthur Kill and Staten Island Sound, both continuations of the Kill Von Kull, the Toby reached Perth Amboy, and turned into the Raritan River, which here empties into Raritan Bay.
The Raritan River is so shallow and so crooked that the yacht proceeded very slowly and carefully for seventeen miles, until she reached New Brunswick. Here she entered the Delaware and Raritan Canal, and found herself in company with great numbers of heavy canal-boats drawn by mules or horses. The canal in which the little Toby now sailed runs through a very beautiful portion of New Jersey, and her passengers enjoyed travelling on it very much. They especially enjoyed going through the locks, always in company with some other craft, which was sometimes a canal-boat, sometimes another steamer, with sometimes a big schooner, whose tall masts and white sails looked very funny among the trees on the canal banks.
The principal places that the Toby passed while in the canal were Bound Brook, Princeton, Trenton, and Bordentown. At the last-named place she passed through the last of the twelve locks, and having had forty-three miles of canal sailing, steamed gladly out into the broad Delaware River.
A run of twenty-nine miles down this beautiful river brought her to Philadelphia, where she rested for a few days, and gave her passengers time to get acquainted with this dear old city, in which so many of the readers of Harper's Young People live.
On leaving Philadelphia the Toby steamed merrily down the Delaware for forty miles to Delaware City, in the State of Delaware, where she entered the Delaware and Chesapeake Canal, which connects the Delaware River with Chesapeake Bay. This canal is only fourteen miles long, and has but two locks, one at each end, so that the little yacht, soon found herself at Chesapeake City, in the State of Maryland, and at the southern end of the canal.
After an all day's run down the upper end of Chesapeake Bay, the Toby entered the Patapsco River, and steamed up to Baltimore, where she landed her passengers in time to witness the great Oriole Celebration.
Then she went back down the Patapsco and again into Chesapeake Bay. This bay is so wide that it is almost as rough and stormy at times as the sea itself, and the poor little Toby had a very hard time, and was roughly handled by the great waves before the pleasant Wednesday morning when she turned into the broad mouth of the York River, and dropped anchor amongst the big ships in front of Yorktown. As the little boat ran in between two of the great war ships, they began firing guns and banging away at such a furious rate that in a few moments not only the poor little Toby but they themselves were completely enveloped in a dense cloud of smoke. In a few minutes those on board the Toby learned that the government steamer Dispatch, with President Arthur on board, had just arrived, and that all this firing of guns was only a salute to him, as though the big ships had said, "How do you do, Mr. President? We are very glad to welcome you to Yorktown."
After leaving this place the Toby went back down the York River into Chesapeake Bay again, and for a short distance out into the ocean, before steaming past the grim walls of Fortress Monroe and into Hampton Roads.
Without stopping to see the fort or the Indian schools at Hampton, the Toby hurried on, and an hour later sailed into the quiet harbor of Norfolk, at the mouth of the Elizabeth River.
The upper deck or cabin roof of the Toby Tyler extends nearly over her entire length, so that, though small, she can be made very comfortable in any weather. Her cabin, which is also dining-room and sleeping-room for four, is back of the engine-room, and occupies the whole of the after-part of the yacht. Her engine is in the middle, right under the smoke-stack, and forward of this is the cockpit, of which the sides are open except when inclosed by heavy canvas storm curtains. Here, in very warm weather, hammocks can be slung at night, in which the passengers may sleep.
On the upper deck is a light cedar canoe—the Psyche—with paddles, masts, and sails, intended for exploring rivers and lakes that are too shallow for the Toby, and beside the canoe is lashed a good-sized tent with its poles, so that when Mr. Otis and his friends tire of living on board the yacht, they can, if they choose, establish a camp on shore.
In various lockers on the yacht, besides the baggage of her passengers and crew, and the coal, are stored four hundred pounds of canned provisions and fruits, a tool chest, medicine chest, ammunition chest, blankets, writing and sketching materials, books, charts, etc.