Greensburg, Kentucky.
Here is a game for rainy evenings I made up myself. It takes two players to play it. Player No. 1 places a chair or table in the centre of the room, and while Player No. 2 is shut outside, he walks round the object as many times as he pleases. Then Player No. 2 is called in, and will tell how many times his companion has walked round the object.
The way to do it is this: When Player No. 2 is told to go outside, he must hesitate a little, and perhaps say something in a careless way to divert suspicion. Then Player No. 1 will tell him to go three or four times. It is understood between the two players that so many times as Player No. 2 is told to go, so many times will Player No. 1 walk round the object; and if the players are skillful, it is impossible for the spectators to detect in what way they understand each other.
If any one in the audience suspects signs of any kind, Player No. 2 may offer to be blindfolded by the suspicious person.
John H. B.
Atlanta, Georgia.
I live in the suburbs of Atlanta. We have had lots of birds' nests in our yard this summer—mocking-birds, bluebirds, and sparrows. On moonlight nights the mocking-bird sings far into the night.
When Pluto, our black cat, goes under the trees where the little birds are, the old bird flies down, pecks him on the back, and looks very angry. Pluto looks as if he would like to eat her at one bite.