DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have a little sister named Pet, because we love her so. A few days ago our papa had a narrow escape from being burned, and Pet asked me if I thanked God for taking care of him. I said, "Yes." "And did God say, 'You're welcome'?" asked Pet.

Now, don't you think that was a funny idea?—Your affectionate reader,

R.L.P.

GULLIVER'S TRAVELS AND THE MOONS OF MARS.—A correspondent writes that in Gulliver's "Voyage to Laputa," an imaginary flying island, Dean Swift, the author, describes some over-wise philosophers, and, among other things, says:

"They have likewise discovered two lesser stars, or satellites, which revolve about Mars; whereof the innermost is distant from the center of the primary planet exactly three of his diameters, and the outer-most, five; the former revolves in the space of ten hours, and the latter in twenty-one and a half; so that the squares of their periodical times are very nearly in proportion with the cubes of their distance from the center of Mars."

Now, these two satellites were not discovered really until August 16th, 1877, but Dean Swift's book appeared it 1726, more than one hundred and fifty years before! But, although the Dean's guesswork is not exactly correct, he comes very near the truth when he states the time taken by each moon in going around the primary. This you will see by comparing his words with the following letter, which we have received from Professor Asaph Hall, the actual discoverer of the moons:

Naval Observatory, Washington, D.C.,
March 4th, 1878.

EDITOR ST. NICHOLAS: The periods (of revolution) of the satellites of Mars are as follows,—Deimus being the outer satellite, and Phobus the inner one:

Period of Deimus,30 hours,18 minutes, 0 seconds.
Period of Phobus, 7 hours,39 minutes,16 seconds.

These values are very nearly correct, and will be changed in the final calculation only a few seconds, if at all.—Yours truly,

A. HALL.

Period of Deimus,30 hours,18 minutes, 0 seconds.
Period of Phobus, 7 hours,39 minutes,16 seconds.

The following are extracts from the letters of a young girl now traveling in Europe:

Berlin, 1877.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: We were in the Auer Cathedral, Munich, looking down the long nave, when troops of little children, boys and girls, each with a little knapsack strapped between the shoulders, leaving the hands and arms free for play, came hastening in by twos and threes, till the whole church seemed full. They all knelt down, whispered a few words of prayer, and remained for a brief space, silent and motionless, bowed down in devotion; then they quietly arose and went out. I shall not soon forget Auer Cathedral with its little worshipers.

We have been settled at Berlin for a month. Being the residence of the Emperor and Court, it is very gay with balls, theaters, etc., and the streets are bright and lively with fine uniforms, prancing horses, and carriages full of richly dressed ladies, their escorts riding on horseback at the side. It presents a lively contrast with Munich in these respects, but, as to sunlight, it is a gloomy place. Thus far we have had only four pleasant days, and on those the sun set between three and four in the afternoon. Some days we thought it did not rise at all! We realize now, for the first time, how far north Germany is.

We improved one of our pleasant days by a trip to Potsdam, where is the summer palace of the kings of Prussia. Here are the rooms of Frederick the Great, just as he arranged them. His library is chiefly of French books, and fills the shelves, which are everywhere, from floor to ceiling—upon the doors, even, so that, when they are shut, one feels imprisoned in books!

At the opposite end of the palace are the rooms once occupied by Voltaire. The walls are covered with painted wood carvings of cats, dogs, parrots, and peacocks, which Frederick caused to be placed there after his quarrel with Voltaire, to express his opinion of the Frenchman's traits of character.

Directly under the walls of the palace stands an idle windmill, now owned by the Emperor. The noise of this windmill used to annoy the queen, so Frederick sent for the miller and said to him:

"We two cannot live so near each other. One of us must buy the property of the other. Now, will you buy my palace?"

"But my leige, I have not the money," replied the miller.

"Then I must buy your mill," said the king.

"You also have not money enough; I will not sell," was the miller's reply.

When the king hinted his power to take possession by force, the sturdy miller said he could and would sue the king.

"Well," said the monarch, "since you have so high an opinion of the justice to be found in my courts of law, I will not molest you."

So the windmill continued to creak and whirr in the ears of the royal family for a long time.

ADA.