I am nine years old. I live with my papa and mamma in the country. I have a little pug-dog whose name is Beauty, and I have a canary-bird and a young rabbit. The canary-bird's name is Buttercup, and the rabbit's name is Muff. I am going to tell you about the way in which I caught Muff. I was out walking with my teacher and my brother and another little boy and girl, and we went up to the woods, when all of a sudden I caught sight of a little brown thing in the bushes, and then I saw that it was a young rabbit, and I called my little friends to try and catch it, and at last the little boy succeeded in doing so. We took it home and put it in a box, in which we laid some straw.
My brother is eight years old. He has a bicycle, and he rides very well. He began to ride when he was six years old.
Julie B. R.
Fort Bowie, Arizona Territory.
This is my second letter to Young People. The first was written some time ago from Fort Apache. Most girls tell of their pets, but as I have only a pair of pigeons and a little "burro" (which is Mexican for donkey), I'll tell about our trip from Fort Apache to this place. We left Apache early on the morning of June 28, and arrived here on the afternoon of July 9, having travelled in an ambulance drawn by six stout mules. The road was very rough in some places, but the scenery was beautiful, especially when crossing the mountains. We passed by the graves of the men killed by Indians last May. In one grave there were five bodies. We also saw the charred remains of a wagon, to which the Indians had tied men and then burned them. We had a detail of sixteen soldiers, or we should have been very much afraid. We camped each night, and I thought how surprised Eastern people would have been had they seen us sitting outside the tents after supper, singing, in this wild country. I'll write again some time, and tell about this funny little fort—that is, if we stay here long enough.
Bessie G.
Your letter would not have been too long, dear, had you told about the fort before you concluded it. Little correspondents need not fear making descriptive letters too long.
"I want to look wise," said Maud, one day;
"I want to look clever and wise."
"Oho!" said the Owl, as he sat on a spray,
And blinked, as in solemn surprise,
"You had better by far remain as you are,
And learn to be clever and wise."
Then echoed the birds as they sat in a row,
"You hear what he says; you'd better, you know,
Just learn to be clever and wise."