Apollo, Pennsylvania.
I am a boy just twelve years old. My brother takes Young People for Blanche and me, on condition that we shall not read novels. We are having a new iron bridge, which will be free, built across the river at this place. They have four piers built, and still have one more, besides the two abutments, to finish. We used to pay toll across the old bridge, which was carried away when the ice came down the river last spring.
We have good coasting here in winter, as this is only a little country town of about fifteen hundred inhabitants. Our school re-opened in September, and will be in session six months.
I have three sisters and four brothers. Paul, the youngest, is a chubby little fellow of two.
A. Lincoln C.
Colfax, California.
In Young People No. 103 I saw a letter from Augusta C., South Glastenbury, Connecticut. This young lady says she hates cats. I should judge that she never had any. I disagree with her entirely. Almost any cat, if fed well and petted, will make as affectionate a little pet as one can desire. I have had a great many cats. When I was a little girl, about five or six years old, I had a very nice pussy, which I named Rose. She was exceedingly good and gentle, and would allow me to dress her in my doll's clothes, and rock her in my toy cradle. I have a very pretty kitten now. She is black, with dainty white paws, and great sleepy yellow eyes. She is very gentle and loving, and purrs loudly whenever I fondle her. I have named her Niketa. I hope Miss Augusta will see that she is mistaken in saying that all cats are treacherous, and "care for nothing but their own comfort." I know of many cases where cats have displayed their love for human beings.
Jeannie K. P.
Emmetsburg, Iowa.