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and said kindly to the child : “Wait, dear little one, I will wake the apple for you."

She held out her apron, and the wind began to blow against the apple so hard that it woke up in a real fright, and quickly sprang down into the child's apron.

She took the beautiful red-cheeked apple, and called to her helper : “Thank you, kindly, Mr. Wind."

BABY LIONS AND CATS. THERE 'S a time in the life of every lion, my friends, when, as I am told, this king of the forest is only a little prince, and no bigger than a goodsized cat, but with this difference: a baby lion always is heavier than a cat of the same size. His bones are larger in proportion than a cat's, and his muscles are more solid. Doubtless, too, his little roar is heavier than a mere me-ouw; but I suppose that does n't count.

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HOW SOME BEES WERE DECEIVED.

SAN FRANCISCO. DEAR JACK: It was asked in the April number

if insects could be attracted by artificial flowers. SoJACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.

One day last summer we found bees in my mamma's room; we opened the window and tried

to drive them out, but we found that they came in Ting-a-ling, ling! sounds the school-bell chorus,

faster than we could dispose of them. At last we Now for the happy weeks before us ;

found they had swarmed in the chimney. A lady Five days, study; one day, play;

in the room had on a black hat with large red So shall the school time pass away.

poppies, and all the bees flew for it, so that she Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling! take your places,

had to drive them off, and at last she had to leave Restless forms and sun-burned faces ;

the room.

Your constant reader, The road to learning is long, they say,

MAMIE.

MORE ABOUT SURNAMES. And we'll take up our march this very day.

No; HAZEL MCC. must have been wrong when So sung the children of the red school-house, on

she supposed that Mr. Brown's great-grandfather

she supposed that Mr. the first day of ruddy-russet October, or there

was a Mr. Brown, and that his father was a Mr.

was a abouts — and so in one way or another sing my

Brown, “and so on back to Adam and Eve.” At boys and girls all over the land ; and a beautiful

least, all my chicks who have answered the quescheery song it is, the dear Little School-ma'am says, tion which Hazel asked them last spring: “How though I 'll confess that for my own part I enjoy and when did our forefathers receive their surthe closed school-house for a few months each

names?” are certain that Adam and Eve were year — not for my own sake, O studious young not Mr. and Mrs. Brown. In fact, they tell me folk! but for yours.

that surnames — or family names — were not in use However, our happy meetings and talks shall in England before the time of William the Contake place as before, school or no school. We 'll au

queror, which was a good many years ago, of open this time with a little story from the German

course, although not so far back as Adam and language, sent in by your friend Lucy Wheelock. Eve. It was, indeed, somewhere about the year

A.D. 1000, so my chicks say, that these family names "DEAR APPLE,-WAKE UP!"

began to be used. The man who had lived in a High in the apple-tree slept a beautiful large wood, and had been called Samuel of the Wood, apple; it was rocked by the breezes, and its finally became Samuel Wood; John the smith (or cheeks grew redder and redder every day. iron-worker) became John Smith, and his son who

A little girl stood under the tree and wanted to grew up in the same village was known as John's see the apple wake up; but it slept on and on. son, and finally as Johnson. Poor Richard, who The time seemed long to the child and she called had not a penny in his purse, at last became Richto the sleeper: “Wake up, dear Apple, and come ard Poor, and his son's name would, perhaps, be down to me" ; but the apple did not hear.

Poor, if not Richard's son or Dick's son. Then, Then she asked the sun and the birds to help when these young fellows went off and set up famiher, and they were very willing. The sun sent its lies and houses for themselves, they carried these beams right into the face of the sleeping apple, family names with them, and from these and thouand the birds sang loud songs to it; but it took no sands of other changes came the surnames we now notice of all this.

call our own. Suddenly Mr. Wind ran through the garden This is the explanation your Jack received from

quite a number of bright young people, who seem to little boat. They stepped on board very timidly have made a study of the matter, including: Henry and snuggled closely together. The little mother C. R., of Locust Dale, Va. ; S. H. M., of Gor- then pushed the boat into the stream, and taking mantown, Pa.; M. C. S., Baltimore; Alice R. hold of it with her teeth, swam behind it until it D., Devon, Pa. ; Irene A. Hackett, Brooklyn; L. touched the opposite bank, when the babies scamW., Cleveland; Adelaide W., Chicago; Maria J. pered nimbly ashore, delighted to know that their Hickman, Grace, and N. J. R. and Adda Warder. mother was placidly following them.” WHAT A SQUIRREL MOTHER DID.

This story is all very well and very true, but I

have one to match it. One day the dear Little “ DEAR JACK," writes Jeanette C. W., "may School-ma'am saw a squirrel sailing on the creek I tell your children what a squirrel did ?

that runs by the red school-house. To be sure, “ She invented a boat to carry her babies in. At there was no sail to the boat, and there was no all events, a gentleman writing to a paper called the boat either, for that matter. The squirrel was Toledo Blade says he saw her do it, and I believe seated high and dry on a big piece of bark and him, for even animal mothers will do wonderful another squirrel was swimming behind and steadthings when their babies are in question.

ily pushing the barque (as the deacon calls it).

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They were on their way to a new part of the Whether the furry passenger was timid, or merely country in Ohio, and in the course of their travels lazy, I can not say, but probably she was the mother they came to a creek. Mother squirrel tried to of the family and she was used to being waited upon. induce the babies to swim across the stream, but — bless their little hearts !- they were afraid, and

WHAT ABOUT THIS? could not pluck up courage even with mother to help them.

GRANVILLE, O., Jan. 29, 1885. “The squirrel mother was very much distressed DEAR JACK-IN-THE PULPIT : Will you, or the at this, and for a few moments seemed at a loss dear Little School-ma'am, tell me if this story is what to do. There was the creek, and it must be true? I am told that if you capture a nestful of crossed. Pretty soon a bright idea struck her, young mocking-birds, you can easily rear them in and she ran briskly up and down the bank of the the house; but that if you hang them in a cage stream until she found a piece of wood about a outdoors where the old birds can find them, the foot long and half a foot wide.

old birds will feed the young something poisonous, “She dragged that to the edge of the stream and and so kill them. Several have positively assured pushed it into the water until only one end of the me that this is true. piece of wood rested lightly on the bank.

I do not believe that birds could do such an “Then she coaxed the babies to walk out on the unnatural thing.

A LOVER OF BIRDS.

THE PATIENT CAT.

By LAURA E. RICHARDS.

When the spot-ted cat first found the nest, there was noth-ing in it, for it was on-ly just fin-ished. So she said, “I will wait!” for she was a pa-tient cat, and the whole sum-mer was be-fore her.

She wait-ed a week, and then she climbed up a-gain to the top of the tree, and peeped in to the nest. There lay two love-ly blue egg smooth and shin-ing! But the spot-ted cat said: “Eggs may be good, but young birds are bet-ter. I will wait!” So she wait-ed; and while she was wait-ing, she caught mice and rats, and washed her-self, and slept, and did all that a spot-ted cat should do to pass the time a-way.

Then when an-oth-er week had passed, she climbed the tree a-gain, and peeped in-to the nest. This time there were five eggs! But the spot-ted cat said a-gain : “ Eggs may be good, but young birds are bet-ter. I will wait a lit-tle long-er!” So she wait-ed a lit-tle long-er, and then went up a-gain to look. Ah! there were five lit-tle, ti-ny birds, with big eyes and long necks, and yel-low beaks wide o-pen.

Then the spot-ted cat sat down on the branch, and licked her nose, and purred, for she was ver-y hap-py. “It is worth while to be pa-tient!" she said. But when she looked a-gain at the young birds, to see which one she should take first, she saw that they were ver-y thin. Oh, so ver-y, ver-y, VER-Y thin they were! the spot-ted cat had nev-er seen an-y-thing so thin in her life. “Now," she said to her-self, “if I were to wait on-ly a few days long-er, they would grow ver-y fat. Thin birds may be good, but fat birds are much bet-ter. I will wait!” So she wait-ed; and she watched the fa-ther bird bring-ing worms all day long to the nest, and said: "A-ha! they must be fat-ten-ing ver-y fast! they will soon be as fat as I wish them to be! A-ha! What a good thing it is to be pa-tient!” At last, one day she thought: “Sure-ly now they must be fat e-nough! I will not wait an-oth-er day. A-ha! how good they will be !” So she climbed up the tree, lick-ing her chops all the way, and think-ing of the fat young birds. And when she reached the top, and looked in to the nest — it was emp-ty!!

Then the spot-ted cat sat down on the branch, and spoke thus : “Well, of all the hor-rid, mean, un-grate-ful creat-ures I ev-er saw, those birds are the hor-rid-est, and the mean-est, and the most un-grate-ful!

“Mi-a-u-ow!!!!”

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EDITORIAL NOTES.

the children, not at all happy in their strange surroundings, are considerably disturbed as they seek the shelter of a sturdy tree-trunk, where the older child stands in an attitude of mingled protection and timidity that is charmingly expressed.

On many of the great English estates, large numbers of deer are kept,—“preserved," as it is called; and so strict is the English law against the destruction of game that these great “preserves" are not fenced in as are smaller deer parks, but the deer roam over them unmolested and frequently become very tame. They are, however, suspicious of danger and ready to gallop away at the first sign of its approach. The engraving of Mr. Morris's beautiful picture, which forms the frontispiece of this number of St. NICHOLAS, shows us two little girls who, searching for flowers, have strayed far into one of these deer parks and have come suddenly upon a herd of deer. The children and the animals appear equally startled. The big bucks toss up their antlers at a distance and regard the small intruders with suspicion; the does also stand aloof; but the little fawns arc very inquisitive, and half inclined to be friendly,- while

Many of our readers will remember an article which appeared in ST. NICHOLAS, one year ago, entitled “On Teaching the Eye to Know what it Sees"; and all who were interested in that paper will be glad to read Mr. Arlo Bates's article in the present number, in which he shows how “Those Clever Greeks" adapted their architecture to the peculiarities of the human vision, and made even their finest building geometrically incorrect in its details in order that it might have the right appearance to the eye when seen in its completeness.

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GARRETTSVILLE, OH10. DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Reading so many children's letters has mnade me try to write my experience in chestnutting. Some high rocky ground across from our house they call Chestnut Ridge. It is quite thickly dotted with the trees, and some of them hang over the road. When you go up to the top of the ridge you can see a great deal of country, around the hill a circular valley. On the other side of the valley it is also dotted with chestnut trees. Then fields and woods beyond, turned red and yellow, make a fine view. But instead of telling about nutting I am describing the country.

We have been watching the chestnuts ever since they bloomed in July, but they can't be gathered till the frost opens the burrs. We children watched pretty closely for the earliest of them, and to get the plump and shiniest that are bitten off by the squirrels or rattled down by the blue jays. This bird is very fond of chestnuts. It finds the burrs that have opened first, and nearly every burr has two or three chestnuts in it. The bird picks out one, and the others fall to the ground for us. The birds keep busily at work, and so the nuts keep falling through the day. But early in the morning we find them most plentiful, as the birds begin their work the

ing dragon-flies in a field of high grass when we noticed some black birds acting very funny; all at once we saw the male and female birds alight and then we heard a dreadful screaming and we thought we had discovered a nest, Ed. (the member) and I rushed down (Ed. first) to the spot where we had seen the birds alight, and Ed, reached down to the supposed nest, and there to his astonishment about three inches from his hand was a snake stretched out; he was so frightened at his discovery that he jumped up and said, “Hurry up, Bra., a snake! a snake!" I took to my heels lively, I can tell you, and did n't stop till we had reached a rock of safety; we then got over our fright and marched out as brave as lions (with stones in our hands) to defend the birds, but the snake had run away before we reached there, and so we missed our prize. Your constant reader,

BRAINERD F.

up and wait for them to send down more, though we don't get all the birds shell out, for the chipmunks are there running around for their share. When the burrs all open, we start out to do better; when we find a tree that suits the climber, he goes up with a long pole and whips the full limbs, and the nuts come showering down so thick and fast that we have to stand from under the tree until the nut storm is over, when we rush around to pick them up, and when we get home and measure them we sometimes find we have a half-bushel, and sometimes a bushel. Your friend,

STELLA T.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: While reading the poem in ST. NICHOLAS for July, entitled " Elizabeth Zane," I thought it might interest your young readers to know that the identical fort which was saved from the Indians by the heroism of Elizabeth Zane, is still in existence While visiting Wheeling, W. Va., this spring, the Rev. Frank S. de Hass, D. D., called at my mother's home, corner of Zane and Front streets. While chatting pleasantly upon many subjects he asked: “Do you know that right opposite this house stands the identical fort that Elizabeth Zane's courage saved from destruction ?" Of course none present was aware of the fact, and the Rev. gentleman informed us that when the march of improvement rendered it necessary to destroy the old fort, the logs were brought over to ** The Island," and were used in the erection of a house now owned by Mrs. Berger, N. W. corner Zane and Front streets. The logs have been covered by weather-boards, and form the back bulding of Mrs. Berger's spacious old-fashioned residence. When I was a little girl, the spot on which the fort used to stand was occupied by the house of one of the Zanes; it stood high above the street, and was surrounded by a stone wall, and I used always to be fearful of Indians jumping out at me and dragging me off, or scalping me, although I really knew that the Indians had been driven from that part of the country years before. “The Zane's house" has long ago disappeared, the stone wall removed, and the lots graded down to the level of the street, and nothing remains of outward tangible proof of Elizabeth's heroic deed but a few logs covered by boards. Even so have small envious minds striven to cover her fame with a hard coating of skepticism. But they have not succeeded.

C. W. P.

ST. FRANCIS BARRACKS, ST. AUGUSTINE, FLORIDA. DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am eight years old. We came to this place the first of June. I have two sisters and one brother. We mp into the salt water every day. I am learning to swim.

It is very hot here. We had a terrible thunder-storm, every day in July. It looks very strange to me, to see oranges and bananas growing, as I have never been south before. Our band plays every afternoon, and a great many people come from town to hear it. There is a big light-house opposite our house.

We went into the old Spanish Fort the other day, and into the dungeons; where so many years ago people were shut up until they died for want of food and air. My mamma would not go in the dungeons; she was afraid. Your little reader,

AMY S.

YOUNG FOLKS MORRISANIA Museum, July, 1885. DEAR ST. NICHOLAS : I am the President of the Young Folks Morrisania Museum of Natural History, of Morrisania, of N. Y.

We formed our museum last year and have tried to succeed; the museum consists of six members all of whom are over ten and under twelve.

I like to study natural history very much.
One day last week, my brother, a member and myself were catch-

MARIETTA, Ohio. DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My brother, who is sixteen, went to Nebraska two months ago, and one of the first things he asked before he went was that we should send the ST. NICHOLAS to him.

I must tell you about a prairie-hen of which he wrote in a letter to Mamma. He says there is one which has a nest a short distance from the house where he lives; and though the chicken is as large as a domestic one, its egg is smaller than the smallest bantam egg. He says she will sit on her nest and let him throw corn to her.

One day, when he was planting corn with the spade, he forgot about the nest and came near hitting her, when instantly she flew off of her nest, and instead of flying away or hovering about it, she ran along the ground and tried to get him to follow. This she con

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