Arlington Hotel, Cobourg, Canada, July 10, 1878.
My Dear St. Nicholas: Do you remember the little boy who traveled with you on the train last month from Meadville, Pa., to Jamestown, N.Y., when you were returning from California, and who promised to write you all about his visit to Niagara Falls? I have not forgotten my promise, but we have only just settled down for the rest of the summer at Cobourg, Canada. Well, we reached Niagara that night and staid there two or three days, and I enjoyed it so much. The fall on the American side is much smaller than the Canadian, and I remembered what you told me about part of the rock having fallen away, so that now, instead of being shaped like a horseshoe, it is like a Y. The old table rock has fallen away too. We drove every day over Goat Island, the new Park, around all the beautiful drives, and across the bridges. The best view is on the Canadian side, just after you cross the bridge, and then you have a grand view of all the falls at once. We drove out to Lundy's Lane, and a man came out and invited us to go up Scott's Tower and see the battle-field. Papa and mamma had been up some years ago, so said they did not care to go again, as the stairs were hard to climb.
I said I would go, so the man took me up and showed me the battle-field and the lakes through an opera-glass. When I got into the carriage I thanked him for his kindness, and you may imagine my surprise when he asked me for fifty cents: of course I had to give it to him, but it was all I had. Papa and mamma laughed at me all the way home, but papa gave me the half dollar back afterward. We spent a week at St. Catherine's Wells, visited Toronto, Belleville, Napanee and Kingston, and went over on a lake steamer to spend the Fourth of July at Oswego, such a pretty town in New York on Lake Ontario. Cobourg is a pretty little town, too, right on the lake, and the Arlington Hotel, where we are staying, is very nice, with nice shade-trees and lawns. Do you know, dear St. Nicholas, I always thought of you as an old gray-bearded man, like the pictures of Santa Claus; but now that I know you and have talked to you, I shall enjoy St. Nicholas more than ever.—Your friend and constant reader,
Calvert Wilson.
New York.
Dear St. Nicholas: I thought I would tell you about some people I heard of who like to talk to each other, and everything they say begins with the same letter. How queer it must sound. I send you a sentence: Sarah said she saw Susy sewing small shoes swiftly. I wish some of your scholars would try it, and see who could send you a sentence with the words beginning with Z.—I remain, your loving
Maud.
Albany, N.Y.
Dear St. Nicholas: Perhaps some of your other boys, who, like myself, wish to grow big and strong, would like to hear about the largest human being ever known,—Goliath of Gath,—a person almost large enough to need introduction by installments, but he is so well known that the ceremony is needless.
As nearly as I can make out, he was between ten and eleven feet high. When he went to battle he wore a coat-of-mail weighing one hundred and fifty-six pounds,—as heavy as a good-sized man; and the rest of his armor amounted to at least one hundred and fifteen pounds more. The head of his spear weighed eighteen pounds,—as heavy as six three-pound cans of preserved fruit,—and this he carried at the end of a long and heavy shaft!
Think what might happen if a man equally big and strong should live among us now, and insist on taking part in our games and sports! If he joined a boat-club, a curious six-oared crew could be made up, with him at one side and five other men opposite. And just imagine him "booming along" on a velocipede! If he joined the champion Nine, and hit a ball, where would that ball go to? If he called for a "shoulder-high" ball, wouldn't the catcher have to climb a stepladder to catch behind the giant? And if he threw a ball to a baseman, wouldn't he be apt to throw it clean through him?
Probably no one can answer these questions, but they are interesting, all the same, to yours sincerely,
R.V.D.
Lancaster, Pa.
Dear St. Nicholas: Can you please tell me whether there are fire-flies in England or not? We have had several discussions, and I would like so much to know.—Yours truly,
Amy.
According to all accounts within our reach there are in England no fire-flies like those of the United States. But there are glow-worms there, and, sometimes, the male glow-worm (which has wings), has been called a "fire-fly." It belongs to a branch (genus) of the family Lampyridæ, which is also the family of its fire-fly cousins, but it is not shaped quite like them, and bears a different scientific name.
Philadelphia, Pa.
Dear St. Nicholas: I have seen so many little stories written by girls of my age, that I thought I would write also—about iron. It is a very useful metal, without which we would be very much at a loss. Without iron, we could not cook very well; we could not build such houses as we do, because the nails are made of iron, and some of the tools; nor could we have gas, for the gas is conveyed through the different parts of the houses and city by iron pipes. Nor could we have steam-boats, for the machinery which makes them move is made of iron. The buckets which we have to carry water in have iron hoops. The doors have iron locks. The ink with which we write has iron in it. Last, but not least, we have iron in our blood, enough to make a ten-penny nail.
I will tell you of a trip we took to the lead mines. We were spending the summer of 1877 in Wythville, Virginia, and there became acquainted with a family boarding in the same hotel as ourselves. One day they invited us to go with them to see the mines; we had a very long but pleasant ride, and ate our lunch on the grass in the woods, then went on, and at last arrived at the mines. The man who was outside told us that he was "going to harness the ladies' sleeping car;" the mouth of the cave was so low that a man of ordinary height could hardly stand upright in it: when we started they hitched two carts which were used to carry the ore out of the mine, and put a little donkey to it; the man called the donkey Jenny; we had two or three tallow candles which would not stay lighted; as we advanced further, the water began to leak from the rocks, and the car ran off track; but when we were inside the mine, we were more than rewarded for what we had suffered. The men were working in groups, each group having a lantern, and the lead itself shined; a few men went up a pair of stairs to nearly the top of the mine; but all these beauties could not induce me stay a minute longer than I was obliged, and I can assure you we were all very thankful when we arrived at the hotel, to find a nice supper and warm beds waiting for us.—Your little friend,
Joyce.