Queen Charlotte the fair
To a ball did repair
In the city of Aire,
And met all the Adams carousing there,
Sweet Alexandria, Sydney the swell,
And noble young Ellsworth, who pleased her right well.
They praised her fine Cashmere, with Brussels to trim it,
But found it Toulon(g) and Toulouse the next minute.
Her shoulders were Chili, she thought she should freeze,
But a warm Paisley shawl put her quite at her ease.
Her rich Diamond jewelry sparkled and shone;
Her shoes were Morocco, of smallness unknown;
And her kerchief diffused a sweet smell of Cologne.
A Superior dancer, she floated around,
With Washington great or Columbus was found.
With Madison flirting or dancing a jig,
Montgomery, Raleigh, she cared not a fig
For them, or for Jackson, who stared in surprise
When she said she was Hungary, coolly did rise,
And was borne off by Quincy from under his eyes.
At Table, Elk, Sandwich, and Orange she ate,
Sat drinking Moselle and Madeira till late;
Then, after an evening quite Pleasant, she said
Farewell to her hostess, and went home, they said,
With gallant Prince Edward, a gentleman bred.
Lizzie E. T.
Dear St. Nicholas: I saw in the January number a recipe for “chocolate creams.” I have a very good recipe for chocolate caramels. It is: Half a pint of rich milk, a square and a half (or an ounce and a half) of Baker’s unsweetened chocolate, softened on the fire. Let the milk boil; then stir in the chocolate very hard; add half a pint of best white sugar, and three table-spoonfuls of molasses. Boil until very thick, taking care not to burn it. Pour on buttered tins, and, when nearly cold, cut in squares.
If you think this is a good recipe (which I am sure you will, as I have tried it many times, and have never known it to fail), please put it in the “Letter-Box,” and oblige, your interested reader,
Mary Wharton Wadsworth.
Butte Creek, Cal.
Dear St. Nicholas: I am ten years old, and live in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and my papa belongs to a mining company—mining for gold. I have a hydraulic mine of my own, but I don’t get any gold out of it. I have a dog whose name is Flora, and a wooden sword and dagger, and I play soldier with her and get cleaned out sometimes.
We have no school here, but I study my lessons every day, and papa hears me recite at night. I study arithmetic, geography, spelling, U. S. history, and writing. I may write to you again some time.—Yours truly, Scottie Hankins.
Philadelphia, Pa.