Digitized by tine Internet Archive in 2011 witii funding from Tine Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/ourboyswliattheycOOstod y? \ Copyright, 1893, by HUNT & EATON, New York. Composition, electrotypiiig, printing, and binding by HUNT & EATON, 150 Fifth Avenue, New York. CONTK^NXS. PAGE Life on Board a School-ship 7 Balloons Lost at Sea 12 Make Your Own Telegraph ; . . . , 17 How TO Make an Electric Battery 21 Fighting for a Wire 27 A United States Life-Saving Station 36 How TO Run a Boat Club 41 The Story of a Great Race 49 Model Yachting 55 A Great Yacht Race 67 A Young Photographer 72 How to Make a Railroad Car 97 The " Festina " loi How to Make a Banjo 114 An Aquarium, and How to Make Lt 121 How TO Grow a Miniature Oak Tree in a Bottle , 125 How TO Sit a Horse 127 Hints About Swimming 129 To Mammoth Cave on a Bicycle , 131 Skating 138 Baseball 142 The Battle of Boontown 144 Football 148 Captain Bess , 150 Cricket 157 Lacrosse 163 Kites 168 Easy Experiments for Our Boys 171 fT^J^I Our Boys LIFE ON BOARD A SCHOOL-SHIP. OMETHING there is about a life at sea that strongly ap- peals to the imagination of the average boy. He wishes un- usual experiences and strange adventures, and surely these lie over sea. So strong is the de- sire with some that they are not satisfied short of actual trial, and it is from these that Uncle Sam recruits his navy. The government has two places for train- ing these boys for the service — ^the Annap- olis Naval Academy and the apprentice training ships. The one furnishes it with officers, the other with skilled seamen. The life of the apprentice is more rigorous than that of the cadet. Great care is used in their selection and preparation for the duties on a man-of-war. The boys to enter the service must be between the ages of fourteen and eighteen years, and be of robust APPRENTICES ALOFT. frame, healthy constitution, and intelligent mind. Strict at- tention is paid to the stature, no one who is manifestly under size for his age being received. They must be able to read OUR BOYS. and write, although this condition is sometimes relaxed when the applicant is otherwise very bright. The boy who wishes to enter the service and feels that he has these qualifications presents himself before the ship's ex- OLD FRIGATE "CONSTITUTION." amining board. This is something of an ordeal for the re- cruit. The board consists of the captain, a line officer, and the senior medical officer of the vessel. The captain's room is usually the most cozy of the ship. It is a curious combina- tion of a gentleman's library and a shipmaster's office. The reversed compass above his head keeps him informed as to the ship's course. A barometer hangs at his side, while on the table are spread charts and mariners' in- struments. Books line the walls, and scat- tered about are bric-a-brac and mementoes picked up in various ports. The officers are in full uniform. The examination of the boy is made, and if everything is satis- factory the agreement is then read and ex- plained to him. " Do you voluntarily consent to all the conditions in that ? " asks the captain. OUR BOYS. THE SEXTANT. Young America, who is usually too frightened or excited to haggle about the terms, though the accompanying parent or guardian often does, signs the pa- per and is enlisted. As soon as pos- sible after enlist- ment the boys are transferred to the training ship, which is not handsome, though convenient and roomy. There in perfection is economy of space. The storehouses and the water- tanks are in the hole — a dark, uncomfortable place where rats hold carnival and culprits do penance. The first deck contains the offices, armories, and seamen's quarters. On the second are the spaces devoted alternately to eating and sleeping, the school- rooms, and the sick bay, while above are the guns and quar- ters for training. The life is one of routine. The morning bell strikes at five o'clock, and there is a stir among the hammocks and an ap- pearance of sleepy heads. There is a general bustle of dressing, and everything seems in confusion. , But scarcely five minutes elapse before the petty officers are in full swing of their several functions in the separate parts of the crew, the ham- mocks are neatly stowed away in the net- tings, the clothesbags are in their racks, and the boys are ready for their early cup of coffee. They then set about their first tasks TAKING AN OBSERVATION WITH THE SEXTANT. — some to scrub down the decks, others to 10 OUR BOYS. wash clothes; and this last is no small task, especially in summer, when the suits worn are of white canvas and easily soiled. This work usually takes a couple of hours, and it is relieved by breakfast. This over, they return again to their work — some to the schoolroom, some to the gymnasium, and some to the mastery of seamanship. The boys manage to illumine the day with some gleams of fun. Hammock-slinging is a merry time, for sailors* ham- mocks are not to be trifled with. One boy, desirous not to display his ignorance of them be- fore the other boys, resolved to make his first attempt at getting into one when no one was looking. The opportunity came, and he made a bolt. Unfortunate jump it proved, for he went clean over the ham- mock, striking the boy beyond, and SAILOR BOY'S HAMMOCK. ... . . both went down m glorious confusion . Fresh recruits are not the only victims. The stillness of the night is frequently broken by a sudden bump, followed by a suppressed giggle, and all know that the knife has been ap- plied to some one's hammock. The demerit book contains marks which speak forcibly, if not eloquently, on this point. The demerit system employed is a rather complex one. The amount of liberty each boy is given depends upon his de- portment. They are divided into sections on this basis, those in the first division being allowed two afternoons ashore ; those in the second one, and those in the third none at all. A printed list of the misdemeanors, with the punishments at- tached to each, is posted on the ship. The list is a constantly growing one, keeping pace with the mischievous inventions of the youthful mind. The records, though somewhat cabal- istic, are yet interesting reading. Here you see such entries as "Franklin Smith, O. T. C. & S.," which signifies that Smith returned from his holiday on time, clean and sober. Sometimes the entry is simply " D " — drunk, and the poor fellow spends the night in the brig. The summer cruise is the one break in the year's routine. OUR BOYS. n The apprentices study the English branches, gunnery, and seamanship, together with gymnastic training and drill in the use of signals. The boys, as a result of this physical training, are sturdy, manly-looking fellows. The cruise is to give them practical experience. Although it is a change it gives more than one of the boys a touch of homesick- ness. They are placed on men-of-war and billed for trips which may be prolonged to two or three years. The bustle and excitement of getting under way, the new scenes that surround the apprentice on the man-of-war, the feeling that he is actually in the service, for a time overtop other thoughts. THE MODERN CRUISER "BALTIMORE." But when the pilot is set ashore and the marine band starts "The Girl I Left Behind Me," and the ship turns toward an unknown ocean, courage weakens. The inducements offered the bright, energetic boy in the naval service — if he must begin as an apprentice — are small. Promotion above the rating of a petty officer is impossible. There are five grades of apprentices. The boy enlists as a third-class apprentice. He may then, as he acquires profi- ciency, be promoted to second and first class apprentice and to two grades of seamen apprentices. The boys must serve un- til they are twenty-one years of age. Despite its hardships, however, there is a peculiar attraction to the life which one who has felt its spell cannot soon forget. BALLOONS LOST AT SEA. ON the 7th of January, 1785, a little more than a year after the Montgolfier brothers distinguished themselves by the invention of air-balloons, Blanchard, accompanied by Dr. Jeffries, succeeded in crossing the English Channel, This was for a long time the only fortunate attempt at a maritime ascension. On the 15th of June in the same year Pilatre de Rozier lost his life while making a similar attempt from Bou- logne. Toward the middle of the year 1845 a man by the name of Comaschi, from Boulogne, set out with his balloon from Con- stantinople. He was seen to take his course to the ocean, but was never again heard of. On the 7th of October, 1849, an aeronaut who had before made many aerial voyages, Francis Arban, ascended from Barcelona never to return. Judging from the direction of the wind, it seems certain that he found his fate in the Mediterranean. OUR BOYS. 13 Courage and bravery always call forth applause, but they demand so much the more admiration when they are inspired by disinterested sentiments, by noble aims, by the love of sci- ence or patriotism. Of such a nature were the deeds of two aeronauts of the siege of Paris — M. Prince, the sailor, and M. Lacaze, the soldier, who perished successively in the Atlantic. Prince ascended from Paris November 30, 1870, in the balloon Jacquard, with 250 kilogrammes (over 550 pounds) of letters and dispatches. It was eleven o'clock in the evening of a very dark night. At daybreak a ves- sel near Plymouth observed in the water the balloon sent out from the besieged city. This was the last news of the brave messenger. With- out doubt he was carried away to the ocean. Before his death, however. Prince accomplished his mission, having thrown to the sea his bag of dispatches ; a ship picked it up, and the letters were for the most part distributed. The 27th of January, when the siege was nearly at an end, Lacaze, who ascended in the aerostat Richard Wallace, met the same fate as the noble Prince. He passed over the whole of France, and was seen first from Niort and afterward from La Rochelle. Far away from the coasts he was lost in a thick fog and the ocean was his tomb. More fa- vored by the elements was Duruof, in >..,A?^. Si3 14 OUR BOYS. 1868, After being carried out to sea in his aerostat he found at a lower level a countercurrent which led him back to the shore. Two different times he was seen to drift out over the open sea and back again to the coasts. The existence of these higher countercurrents is not infrequent in a maritime atmosphere. It was by their aid that Lhoste on the 9th of September, 1883, made his first journey across the British Channel from Boulogne-sur-Mer to Folkestone ; he maneuvered so well, and so skillfully appropriated to his own use the two aerial currents, making between them angles of about forty-five degrees, that he succeeded in steering himself toward the coasts of England, tacking like a sailboat. Lhoste was then twenty-five years old. Before this successful journey he had made, either alone or with one of his friends, Eloy, three maritime ascensions, when he had always been fortunate enough either to regain the shore or be picked up by some vessel. The 27th of May, 1883, he went up at seven o'clock in the evening from Saint Omer, made a circular voyage around the North Sea, and landed at Holland in fourteen hours. Lhoste was completely fascinated with aeronautism ; the danger of maritime ascensions acted upon him as an irresistible attraction. Two fatal events, which succeeded each other, did not lessen his enthusiasm. His companion, Eloy, met his death at the time of an ascension from Lorient, July 14, 1885. He went up at half-past six and sailed toward the ocean ; boats followed him, but night closed in and he was lost to view. In the morning they found the balloon floating in sight of Belle Isle-en-Mer, and discovered also near the island of Groix, the jacket and cap of the unfortunate aeronaut, who was certainly drowned while trying to swim ashore. Three days after, on Friday, the 17th, F. A. Gower, an American, was also lost at sea in his little balloon, La Ville d'Hyeres, with which he started from Cherbourg. He antici- pated some interesting experiments in the use of military bal- loons. Possessed of much assurance and boldness, he suc- ceeded in crossing the channel from Dover to Boulogne. When he ascended from Cherbourg he was obliged, for want of ballast, to drop to the sea. A vessel discovered him, but just OUR BOYS. 15 as she was going to his help the balloon broke loose, rapidly rising into space. The inexperienced aeronant had cut the ropes which bound his skifiE to the balloon ; when last seen he was floating on the surface of the billows alone in his frail bark half submerged, and making, doubtless, desperate appeals for help; he perished a short distance from the coast. Even these warnings did not serve to dampen Lhoste's ar- dor. The 29th of July of the following year he ascended ~l^ ""c^ sS"^^ iTviiSXfe^ r" ■'■g^,. ggt«i^*"2 F.sjl 22 OUR BOYS. gether and applied with a brush while hot. The jar should be warm when the mixture is applied. The porous cup must be purchased from a dealer. It should be about 7 in. high and 3| in. in diameter. It should be coated with beeswax and resin at the top to check climbing salts. The porous cup stands inside of the jar, as seen at b in Figs. 1 and 2. The zinc plate should be 6 in. long, 2\ in. wide, and \ in. thick. It will weigh about a pound. These plates can be purchased either cast or rolled and cut any size required. They are expensive, however, and they can be easily and cheaply made. Zinc has a very low melting point, and scrap zinc can be bought for two cents a pound. Melt it in a ladle and pour it into a mold of the required shape and size. If a large number of plates are wanted it will be well to have an iron mold made, but if only a few are needed they may be cast in sand or in a mold made of plaster of Paris. The zinc plates must be amalgamated before they are used. To amalgamate them proceed in the following manner : Fill a small jar with dilute sulphuric acid to a depth equal to a little more than half the length of a zinc plate. Stand a plate in the acid and let it remain a few seconds. A longer time will be necessary if the plate is not clean. When the plate has been removed from the acid place it in a suitable dish and pour a few drops of mercury on it. Spread the mercury over it with a swab or with the end of a fiat stick. Then wash the plate v/ith water, to remove the acid, and proceed in the same way to amalgamate the other end. In preparing the dilute sulphuric acid for this purpose use one volume of acid to eight volumes of water. An earthen jar should be used to mix them in, as heat is generated, and a glass vessel would be broken. Be careful with the sulphuric acid, as it is very corrosive. The zinc plate stands in the porous cup, as seen at c in Figs. 1 and 2. The carbon plates shown at d d in Figs. 1 and 2 are about I in. thick, 2^ in. wide, and 7 in. long. In giving these dimensions we are supposing a 5x7 battery jar will be used. OUR BOYS. 23 These plates may be bought this size, or they may be bought in large sizes, say 12x14, and cut into plates of the required size. The large plates are cheaper in proportion to their size. To cut the plates make deep scratches on both sides with the point of an old jackknife guided by a straightedge, then break over the edge of a table or bench. The object of hav- ing two carbon plates in each cell is to expose a larger amount of conducting surface, thereby reducing the internal resistance of the battery and the tendency to polarize. The amount of carbon surface necessary will depend upon the use to which the battery is to be put. For incandescent lighting four plates in each cell are advised ; for general use one or two will be sufficient. It will be observed that all the carbon plates in the same cell are connected with each other by a metallic conductor — e, Figs. 1 and 2. This makes them practically one plate of large surface. A carbon cylinder, perforated to allow free circula- tion of the liquid, would be a perfect arrangement, but carbon cylinders are hard to obtain and very costly. A very cheap and also a very perfect method of extending the carbon sur- face is to use a single plate and pack crushed coke, free from dust, around it, filling the entire jar outside of the porous cup. If this method is employed a glass tube should be placed in the jar before the coke is put in. This tube should reach from the top of the jar to the bottom, and should be large enough to receive a siphon, which may be made of a piece of quarter- inch rubber tubing. The use of this siphon will be explained later. We will now consider the methods of connecting the zinc and carbon plates with connecting wires. Metal clamps are often used for this purpose, and they are very serviceable for tem- porary use, but they cannot be recommended for permanent use, because they soon corrode and the contact with the plate is impaired or destroyed. A perfect and permanent connec- tion with the zinc plate may be made with mercury as follows : Cut a piece of No. 14 rubber-covered copper wire ten or twelve inches long. Remove the rubber insulation from each end about an inch and clean the wire with sandpaper. Bend 24 OUR BOYS. one end into a hook, as shown in Fig. 3. Rest the lower end of the zinc plate in this hook and lower it into the porous cup. Then pour in mercury until it is about one eighth of an inch deep in the bottom of the cup, as seen at h in Fig. 2. This method has several advantages besides permanence. It keeps the zinc plate constantly amalgamated, which is an important consideration. It enables us to use the entire plate, as the upper end simply drops down into the mercury when the lower end is consumed. If a clamp is used as a connect- or the upper end of the zinc must be thrown away, or at least recast, when the lower end is consumed. With the mercury ^'9 ^ connection scraps of zinc in any shape may be used in an emergency by simply dropping them into the cup. There are two excellent methods of connecting the carbon plate with a conducting wire. In either case the upper end of the plate must first be soaked in hot beeswax and resin. This fills up the pores and thus prevents the liquid rising to the top of the plate by capillary action. After the plate has been thus treated the beeswax and resin must be carefully scraped off the outside, as it would otherwise act as an insulator between the plate and the metallic conductor. The first method of attaching a conducting wire is by means of a copper plate fastened to the carbon with machine screws and nuts, as shown in Fig. 4. The wire may be OUR BOYS. 25 attached to the projecting end of the copper plate by a solder joint. The screws and nuts and the entire copper plate must now be covered with a thick coat of beeswax and resin to pro- tect them from the acid. The second method is by means of a lead cap which may be cast upon the carbon in a mold made of plaster, sand, wood, or metal. The carbon should have one or two holes drilled in it before the cap is cast on. The lead will run into these holes and keep the cap from coming ofE. If this method is used a binding screw may be cast into the lead cap, or the end of the wire itself may be cast into the cap, as shown in Fig. 5. The lead cap and an inch or two of the wire should be covered with beeswax and resin. The connections between the cells and outside of the battery should be made with solder if binding posts are not used. The size of the wire used in connecting the carbon plates with each other in the same cell and with the zinc plate of the adjoining cell should be about No. 14. The liquid in which the zinc plate stands in the porous cup is a solution of common salt in water about two thirds saturated. The liquid in which the carbon stands in the glass or earthen jar is made by mixing one volume of sulphuric acid with eight volumes of water, and adding as much pulverized bichromate of potash as will dissolve in the mixture. This will be found to be about a pound of the bichromate to each gallon of liq- uid. Bichromate of soda is in some respects preferable to bichromate of potash, and it is a cheaper salt, but it is not so common in the market. The liquids should stand at the same height in the jar and porous cup, and this height should be about five and a half inches in a seven-inch jar. When the liquid has been used until its strength is exhausted it may be removed from the battery with a siphon and replaced by new liquid. To start the siphon immerse it in a pail of water, and when it is full pinch it in the middle, to keep the water from running out; lift it from the pail, and put one end into the liquid to be drawn through it. No rule can be given In regard to how often the liquids should be renewed unless the work done by the battery Is 26 OUR BOYS. regular. A little experience, however, will enable any one using the battery to make his own rules. It will be found that the salt water will require renewal more frequently than the acid solution, but fortunately the salt water is very cheap. In regard to the acid solution, its color indicates its condition. It has a bright red color at first, but it gradually turns brown, and finally green, before it is worthless. Some care is necessary in handling this battery, as the acid used in it is very destructive to clothing, carpet, and floor. The cellar is a good place to keep it if it is well insulated. The even temperature of the cellar is a favorable condition, and the moisture of the place will tend to keep the liquids from evaporating. It must be remembered, however, that the bat- tery must be well insulated if it is put in a damp place. This battery gives a very powerful current and polarizes very slowly. The zinc does not need to be removed from the liquid when the battery is not in use, as the salt water does not attack it when the circuit is open. FIGHTING FOR A WIRE. IN the spring of 1886 I severed my connection with the * ' Chicago Herald ' ' and took the poHce * ' run ' ' on the " St. Paul Globe." I was what is known to the profession as police reporter. My duties were to watch the police de- partment and gather from its members all the news I could, being always alert for clews that might lead to sensational developments. At that time there was a sharp rivalry between the ' * Globe ' ' and its morning contemporary, the "Pioneer-Press," and the reporters on both papers were doing their best to secure ex- clusive news, known to them as "scoops," for the publications that they represented. Late one afternoon in April, about three weeks after I had accepted the position on the "Globe," as I was sitting in the police station wishing that something unusual might happen, information was received by the chief of police that a cyclone had swept over the city of St. Cloud, and that there had been a terrible loss of life and property. I hurried to the "Globe" office, and informed the managing editor of what I had heard. He ordered me to go to St. Cloud, which was about seventy-five miles distant, on the first train that left for that place, and to telegraph the "Globe" all the details of the calamity that I could gather. I hastened to the depot and found that a special train was being made up to carry physicians, surgeons, and reporters to the scene of the cyclone. I presented my credentials to the conductor in charge of the train and was given transportation. It was growing dark when the train pulled out of the depot and sped away over the rails on its mission of mercy. A heavy thunderstorm had set in. The wind blew a gale and drove the rain and hail against the windows and sides of the cars. The train was given the right of way over all others, and but one stop was made on the trip. The engineer was ordered to cover the distance as soon as possible, and the cars swayed 28 OUR BOYS. and tottered as they were swiftly dragged over the rails by the powerful locomotive. I shall never forget that ride. The en- gineer told me afterward that the darkness was so great that the light from the powerful lamp at the head of his locomotive illumined the rails not more than ten feet ahead of the cow- catcher. The trip was made in one hour and a half, which, under the circumstances, was considered remarkably quick time. In passing through the train before it started I found three representatives of the "Pioneer-Press" aboard — a discovery that gave me great uneasiness, for I was the only representa- tive of the ' ' Globe ' ' there, and I did not like the idea of be- ing obliged to compete single-handed with three men in a case of that kind. But there was no help for it, and I determined to do my best to get all the news to the " Globe." I thought it very probable that in sweeping through the city the cyclone had torn down the telegraph wires and it would be almost a miracle if a single line was preserved. If there was only one wire in working order I wanted it, and as the train rushed through the night I wrote a description of the ride nearly a column long, determining to hasten to the telegraph office as soon as St. Cloud was reached and file my report, in this manner securing a wire and holding it until I could learn some facts regarding the work of the cyclone, prepare more "copy," and thus keep the wire "hot." I knew that as long as I kept " copy" in the hands of the operator to be sent no other reporter could get the use of the wire. If there were several wires working, and facilities for sending the news were equal to the demand, of course there would be no occasion for this precaution ; but the interest of the ' ' Globe ' ' demanded that I should be prepared for any emergency. I never had visited the city of St. Cloud, which was a place o£ about ten thousand inhabitants, and it occurred to me, after I had finished writing the description of the ride and replaced on my head the derby hat that I had used as a writing desk, that I should lose a great deal of valuable time in inquiring^ the way to the telegraph office. On an occasion like this every minute counts heavily. It was very important that I be OUR BOYS. 29 able to go directly from the train to the telegraph office, so I asked the conductor what direction I should take from the platform of the rear car to reach the office. He told me to go eastward from the depot two blocks, turn to the left and go two blocks, then turn to the right, and after going a half a block I would find the Grand Central Hotel, off the rotunda of which opened the telegraph office. I fixed these directions firmly in my mind, and as the train neared the city I made my way through the crowded aisles of the cars to the rear platform of the last coach, and when the train had slackened its speed sufficiently to enable me to leap off and keep my feet I did so, and alighted in the mud a few yards away from the depot platform. As fast as I could rUn through the rain and the darkness I followed the directions given me by the conductor, and was soon at the hotel, excited and breathless. I quickly made my way through the crowd that filled the sidewalk, and, opening the door of the telegraph office, burst into the room with an abruptness that startled the young lady who was busy at a table, by the side of which sat a young man rapidly writi-ng and piling his manuscript near the young lady's elbow. The sight of this young man at the table filled me with apprehen- sion, and, hastily crossing the room, I asked the young lady if I could get a wire for special correspondence for the press. She informed me that I could not ; that all the wires were down with the exception of the one that she was working, and the local correspondent of the " Pioneer-Press" had filed enough copy to keep that wire busy until three o'clock the next morning. I knew that the " Pioneer- Press " had a correspondent in every town and city of any importance in the State, but the probability that their St. Cloud correspondent would secure a wire as soon as possible after the cyclone had struck the city, and if there was but one wire in working order he would have it, had not occurred to me. When I fully realized the situa- tion I was for a moment nonplussed. There was no time to be lost, however, and I soon recovered my self-possession sufficiently to inquire of the young lady in 30 OUR BOYS. charge of the office if she could tell me where I could find a telegraph operator. She pointed to a young man in the hotel office who was leaning on a glass case filled with segars. I had determined to get a wire if there was one to be found within a radius of ten miles of St. Cloud, but I knew the wire would be of no value to me if I could not find an operator. I approached the young man pointed out to me and asked him to go with me. "Who are you?" he asked in surprise. " A representative of the press," I replied, "and if you come with me it will be money in your p.ocket. Make up your mind quickly." My suggestion of -money had the desired effect, and as the young man walked with me out of the hotel I asked him if he knew where I could find a telegraph wire not in use. He sug- gested that I might be able to get one at the railway station. Fearful that if there had been a clear wire there the ' * Pioneer- Press" men had secured it, and with the operator at my heels, I ran toward the station. When we arrived there the station agent informed me that there was but one wire that could be worked, and the damaged condition of the railroad over which the storm had swept made it necessary for the train-dispatcher to use that wire continually, and it would be in use all night and probably the next day. I offered the agent a large sum of money if he would allow me to use the wire one hour. I begged him to consider the Importance of my getting at least a list oi the dead and wounded to the " Globe." He said he understood the situation perfectly, but money would not tempt him to neglect his duty. While the reply of the agent caused my heart to sink within me I could but respect him greatly for his firmness. In a hurried conversation with the operator I learned that about three miles distant there was a station on the Northern Pacific Railroad, and that I might possibly secure the train- dispatcher's wire there, since that road lay beyond the track of the cyclone. Together we ran to the nearest livery stable. I was ex- ceedingly anxious now, for my only chance of getting a line OUR BOYS. 31 through to the ' ' Globe ' ' that night lay in securing a wire at that station, and I had learned that the " Pioneer- Press " re- porters were exerting themselves to their utmost to keep me from getting a wire, in which event it would be a glorious tri- umph for their paper over the " Globe." When we reached the stable I ordered the man in charge to get me a horse and carriage in the shortest possible time. *• Can't have a team, sir," he promptly replied ; " my horses have been goin' all day, an' they're completely tired out." " Nonsense ; I must have one ! I'll pay you any price you ask." ** This is a sad time with us, sir," said he, apparently struck with my earnestness, " an' if it's er case of life or death you can have a team, an' 'twon't cost you nothin' ; but don't drive the horses harder 'n you can help." I assured him that it was an urgent case, and in five minutes I was seated in a carriage with the operator by my side, urg- ing the weary horses through the mud and rain in the direction of the distant railway station. Our way out of the city lay by the engine house of the fire department, which had been converted into a morgue. I wanted to get, if possible, a list of the killed and the injured, and we stopped at the door of the engine house. When I entered the long, narrow building twenty-one dead bodies lay stretched upon the floor as they had been taken from the ruins and brought in to be identified. As I passed through the doorway I met a man going out, and I asked him if it were possible to get the names of the people known to have been killed or injured. "Are you a newspaper reporter?" he asked. I replied that I was. '•What paper?" said he. "The ' St. Paul Globe,' " I answered. " That's the paper I read," he said. "I think I can give you some information that will be valuable to you. I am the editor of the ' Weekly Times ' here, and have got a complete list of the dead and the injured so far as is known up to this time." 32 OUR BOYS. Fortune had smiled upon me at last. I copied the list and gained from the editor valuable information regarding the appearance of the cyclone, the course it had taken, and the amount of damage it had done to property. Cautioning the editor not to allow himself to fall into the hands of any other reporter, I climbed into the carriage and drove away. The horse struggled painfully through the mire of the coun- try road that was now and then revealed to us by flashes of vivid lightning. Occasionally the poor animal would wander from the road and stumble along the gutter until brought to a standstill by a fence, when the operator or myself would alight and lead the bewildered beast back to the beaten track. We were nearly an hour on the road when we at last drew rein at the station. There was a light burning in the agent's office, and with doubtful heart I walked across the platform and opened the office door. " Have you got a wire in working order? " I inquired of the agent, who sat nodding with drowsiness in his chair. ** You can try the dispatcher's wire, over there," he replied, lazily crossing his legs. "I don't know whether the storm has affected it." "Try it," I said to the operator. He stepped to the key and called St. Paul. A minute later he told me that the wire was clear and I could send my report directly into the telegraph editor's room at the "Globe" office. The operator in the telegraph office at St. Paul had connected the wire with the special wire that ran into the "Globe" building, thus saving considerable time, as the sheets containing the report would not have to be carried from the telegraph office to the editorial rooms. My joy at this discovery was great, and I told the operator to prepare for several hours of steady work. With an eye to bus- iness, he asked me what compensation I proposed to give him for his work. I answered his question by asking what com- pensation he expected to receive. "Twenty dollars an hour," he replied. " It is more than I will pay you," I said. At this the operator turned and walked out" of the room, 34 OUR BOYS. saying that he was going back to the city. I would have paid him five times the price he demanded rather than to get no re- port to my paper ; but he knew he had an advantage of me, and I did not intend to pay him the price he asked, if I could avoid it. I followed him out on the platform, and said: ** I will give you five dollars an hour. You know that is pay- ing you splendidly for your work." "I won't take a cent less than twenty dollars," he re- plied. " Very well," said I, "I will drive back to town and look for an operator who will work cheaper." I started toward the carriage, and as I did so the sound of galloping horses and excited voices urging them on came to my ears. I at once concluded that the "Pioneer-Press" re- porters had heard of the station, and were hastening to secure the wire if there happened to be one there. It would not do to lose a second now, and, turning to the operator, I said : " I'll split the difference with you. I'll give you ten dollars an hour, with the understanding that you will work as long as I ask you to." " All right," he replied, much to my surprise. I caught his arm and almost dragged him back to the sta- tion. Throwing off our coats we sat down, he at the key, I by his side. I had written a page of " copy" and he had just started to send the date line when, drenched with rain and spattered from head to foot with mud, two " Pioneer-Press " reporters rushed into the room. They recognized me at once, and, putting on a pleasant smile, one of them said: " Well, Holmes, you got it, after all." I informed them that I was there to stay until the ' * Globe ' * went to press the next morning ; and they drove back to the city probably more leisurely than they had driven to the station. For fear of any accident happening to the wire I carefully wrote out the names of the dead and wounded, and sent them first, after which I sent a description of the storm and the ter- rible work it had done. The first word of the report was received at the "Globe" office a few minutes past ten o'clock. The wire worked with- OUR BOYS. 35 out a "hitch " until three o'clock the next morning, and the "Globe" gave a seven-column report of the disaster, and published the only correct list of the killed and injured, from which I inferred that the editor of the ' • Weekly Times ' ' had heeded my caution not to allow himself to fall into the hands of other reporters. I remained five days on the ground, reporting the details of the awful work done by the cyclone, whose victims numbered one hundred and twelve human beings. A UNITED STATES LIFE-SAVING STATION. THAT yellow building down by the sea, just back of the white sands, shelters the crew and apparatus of one of Uncle Sam's Life-saving Stations. It has in front a big door, while in the rear, at one cor- ner, is a smaller one. The big door flies open only when the boat-carriage and other apparatus are to be hurried out. Through the other door pass the members of the crew. Let us follow one of the crew as, after patrol duty, he enters that humble door. It is a day of dreary mist, of rain that smites pitilessly all along the sloping beach, and the shelter of the life-saving station will be doubly v/elcome. We enter the kitchen or living room. It is a small room, simply furnished, serving for every kind of purpose save that of sleeping. Be- tween two windows stands a big cook stove. An extension dining table and chairs complete the furniture of the living room. On the wall is a clock stamped "U. S. L. S. S.," and near it is a barometer. In one corner is a case marked "U. S. L. S. S. Library," and below it hang two patrol lan- terns and two sockets for coston signals. Around the walls in different places are overcoats, hats, jackets, comforters. Upon the door leading outside are tacked various printed cir- culars about waterproof dress, time-detectors, marine glasses, and other matters of station interest. A stairway leading up from this living room takes us to the OUR BOYS. 37 keeper's private quarters and a long room for the crew, with comfortable cot beds ranged along its sides. From this long room a short stairway climbs up to the scuttle in the roof and a railed platform with its flagstaff. Here on fair, cloudless days an outlook is maintained, the men on watch duty closely inspecting the blue sea to detect any sign of a craft in distress. On the way to this outlook we see a box of signal flags to be used in communicating with any needy party that can talk back after the same fashion. In a life-saving station the great magnetic center is the boat room. This usually opens directly out of the living room. In the center is the surfboat, twenty-six feet long, furnished with air chambers at stern and bow. It has a low steering oar measuring twenty-two feet. The crew pull six oars. A hint of their dangerous service is given in the cork jacket or life- preserver lying on each seat. The jacket must be put on be- fore the surf man can begin his fight with the breakers. Over at the left of the room is the handcart packed for service at any moment. It contains a breeches-buoy, which is a large cork ring, from which dangle short legs. Whoever the tailor that cut those breeches, though he did not consult the fashion plate, he shaped legs that would do the needed work. There is a Lyle gun for shooting lines to a wreck, and tackle and falls, cartridges, pick-ax, shovel, rope. Above the hand- cart is a life car. There are air chambers at the ends of the car, and in the center is an opening for the admission of pas- sengers, called the "manhole." This can be securely closed. The car will hold four persons, but if one be fat and big, alas for the others ! If a man is going to travel by that car, let him go with as little baggage on his bones as possible, or he will crowd his neighbors. The crew of the station consists of a keeper or captain, and six, seven, sometimes eight or more surf men. These are hired for what is known as the ' ' active season. ' ' ' ' Neptune" can be an exceedingly active force at any time on our rocky Atlantic rim, but he flourishes his trident most vigorously, we all know, during the months of September and April. The keeper carries a responsibility as head all through the yeEr. A RE'^CUE WITH T7TE BREECHES-BUOY. OUR BOYS. 39 If in June an accident should happen on the shore he can summon his men from the potato fields or fishing boats to which they have scattered. The surf men are accepted for their knowledge of boating, and are muscular fellows on the sunny- side of middle life. At the stations night and day are divided into watches. In a stormy, winter night, the patrolling of the beach is no holiday task. One man equipped with coston signal, lantern, and time- detector goes out in one direction ; another patrolman simi- larly furnished takes the opposite. Through their watch they pace their beat, traversing the shore of sand or rock with its snow, ice, and pools of water. Each patiently plods his beat to its close, and there, attached by a chain to the wall of a building, is a key. This he thrusts into a hole in his "time-detector," turn- ing the key with a sharp click. This indicates that a mark has been registered on the dial of the detector, showing that the patrolman has gone his beat. The next morning the keeper opens the detector and removes the dial. It should show three marks between eight and twelve corresponding to the three journeys of the patrolman, one at fifteen minutes of nine, and another at nineteen minutes of ten, and a third at eleven o'clock. This man's watch is the second, the first running from sunset till eight. The third stretches from twelve till four, and the fourth ends at sunrise, or eight, perhaps. Then the day watches begin. Ugly enough is the patrolman's duty at times. In thought follow him bending his head before the storm, at intervals rais- ing It to scan the blackness out of which thunders the roar of the breakers. The wind threatens to blow out his lantern, and he must prevent that. Bowing, hugging his lantern, occasion- ally lifting his eyes, he sees, perhaps, an angry curve of fire above the sea. "A rocket! a wreck?" he cries. He pulls out his coston signal, ignites it, and, waving that answering torch of crimson fire, hurries back to the station. He rouses the crew. The big door of the boat room is thrown back. Out rumbles the carriage, burdened with the surfboat, but perhaps nothing can be done with it, and out clatters the hand- cart. If the sea is too rough for the surfboat, or other reason 40 OUR BOYS. forbid its use, the handcart is drawn in a proper position on the sands. It is unloaded. The wreck gun is fired, send- ing over the wreck a shot to which is attached a line. If that line drops down upon the wreck, the shore and ship are quickly joined by other apparatus that insures the riding of the breeches- buoy to the wreck, bringing off one at a time, or the passage of the life car that will transport four, provided they be not bulky. The disaster may be at such a time and of such a nature that the surf boat can be used. There are lifeboats in service on the Pacific and the Lakes, but along the Atlantic coast the surfboat is preferred. The Florida coasts are peculiar. The ingenious coral polyps are the builders of those shores, and in a shipwreck the vessel is likely to be thrown up so high that the danger to life is not serious ; but there is an after-risk of hunger and other discomfort on shores bleak and deserted. The life-saving stations there are houses of refuge, occupied by a keeper and his family, and to many poor, surf-driven, surf-chilled fellows they must be homes of warm, attractive shelter. HOW TO RUN A BOAT CLUB. THERE is a fascinajion about water and boats in them- selves, and when to this is added the spirit of loyalty to club, crew, or college, boating becomes one of the most attractive of pastimes. First of all, we will suppose that four boys have possession of an ordinary round-bottom, clinker-built boat (about eighteen feet long and four feet beam), and the right of navigation on a river or lake. The jtf ,' four boys above mentioned are at present anxious to (f * ^ organize a crew, put their boat in good trim, and -.^""^ then learn to handle her in a seamanlike manner. We shall try to frame what we have to say in such a way as to give these four sturdy young tars the assistance they need. As to organization, when the numbers are so limited little formality will be required. Usually a club of this kind has two sets of officers ; one to serve in a parliamentary capacity — president, vice president, secretary, treasurer, etc. — the other to have charge of the active work, commodore, vice commodore, purser, etc. Of course if the club included a dozen or so boys and owned a number of boats, perhaps an eight-oared barge, this elaborate organization might be neces- sary, but we are taking the simplest form of a club, which might be organized in hundreds of towns and villages all over the country. There is a great deal in doing a thing systematically, thor- oughly, and in the right way. A touch of discipline is a good 42 OUR BOYS. thing. It is well for a boy to learn to obey implicitly even a commander appointed in play. Let us contrast two scenes. Four boys come romping down to where an ill-kept, leaky boat is moored to a river bank. The pleasure seekers tumble into their craft, stepping on the seats and struggling to get at the rudder. They push and yell and, perhaps, get a little angry. They shout at each other to do this and that; they splash with the oars, and clumsily push the boat out into the stream. There is no order or discipline, and we are glad to lose sight of the squabbling crew around the first bend. Again, four neatly uniformed young fellows unlock a small boathouse and disappear inside. We do not follow them, but we hear no sound of conflict. In a few moments a boat is pushed carefully out under the water door. One of the crew sits at the stern, two others on the rowing seats, and the fourth at the bow. The boat is neatly painted and scrupulously clean, the brass oarlocks glisten in the sun, and the oars lying along the thwarts shine with oil and varnish. As the boat comes out into the stream the oarsmen lift their long oars and hold them perpendicularly in the air, the handles resting on the bottom board. "Let fall!" shouts the captain at the stern. The oars drop together into the oarlocks. ** Make ready ! " The arms and backs come aft in readiness for the next command, " Give way," at which they begin a regular clean-cut stroke, and the boat glides away. We are sorry that it rounds the curve so soon. These outline pictures give us an idea of what we would have our four young friends accomplish. The organization need take little time. Elect a captain whose word must be law, a boatswain next in command, and a purser to take charge of the club funds. An appropriate name and uniform will easily be found. We will suppose that our craft is an ordinary clinker-built (or, in less nautical terms — clapboarded) boat about sixteen or eighteen feet long and three and a half or four feet broad. We have assumed that this boat has seen rough service on river or lake, and is shabby as to paint, broken in many places, not / " J OUR BOYS. 43 quite dry, and decidedly dirty. It is the mission of our ama- teur boat club to rescue her and put her in a stanch and trim condition. First of all, she must be hauled out . of the water at some point where the bank is not too high and affords a level space for work. Then she must be stripped of everything detachable — oarlocks, bottom boards, slats, and seats, if pos- sible. Now, she must have a thorough bath. Scrubbing brushes and soap used vigorously, and followed by pailfuls of water, will soon dislodge the grime and sand from the crevices. Then the boat should be half filled with water, rocked for a time, and finally turned upside down on a couple of low " horses" to drip. This position makes it possible to examine the bottom and locate any leaks which need more than heavy coats of paint. The boat should be allowed to dry thoroughly, but not to stand any length of time in a hot sun to shrink and warp. Next, any carpenter work in the form of repairs, new slats, seats, etc., should be done. We would say here, that it is most important that all splits, breaks, or rough places should be carefully attended to, and that no nails or screws should be allowed to project. Paint will do much, but it cannot cover deficiencies of this kind, nor is it at all seamanlike to do such superficial work. The leaks, if they are small, should be tightly packed with tow or cotton rags, but broad cracks should in addition be covered with thin strips of tin or copper fas- tened by small tacks. When all these small jobs, inside and out, have received the proper attention, then comes the ques- tion of how to paint her. We give two or three designs from which our readers may make a choice, unless they prefer some original combination. 1. Outside: Plain white, with a blue stripe, half an inch wide, around the top board. Name on the stern. Inside : Lead color. Hard wood (if any) scraped, oiled, and varnished. 2. Outside: Same as No. 1, except the bottom, which is painted green below the water line. Inside : Buff, ribs painted blue. 3. Outside: Black, with half -inch stripe of white, red, or 44 OUR BOYS. gold. Name on bows in small letters. Inside: Pure white, hard wood polished (No. 1). In No. 1 we have, perhaps, the more common style. It is easy to, keep clean inside and is perhaps the best for pleasure boats. No. 2 is more fancy, but belongs to the same gen- eral type. To our mind No. 3, which is a man-o'-war boat, is the most attractive, although the most difficult to keep ship- shape. For that very reason, perhaps, it will keep the crew steadily at work and give them cause for greater pride in the neatness of their boat. The more polished and varnished the wood the better. As to the quantity of paint, the outside will need two, or perhaps three, thick coats. Be careful not to add a second coat before the first is thoroughly dry. The inside will require two thinner but neatly laid coats. Be sure not to daub the nat- ural wood when painting near it. It will be better to employ a regular sign painter to put the name on the bow. Do not let him use large or fancy letters or add any flourishes. In the drawing we have the interior of a well-arranged boat. At the stern is a backboard, D, on which the boat's name may also be lettered, cushions, CC, accommodating three or four per- sons, a lattice-work after-deck or floor, B (made of hard wood, oiled and varnished), and foot braces, A A, which move in notches and may be adjusted to rowers of different length of limb. Oarlocks may be divided into two classes: those which permit the oars to be " feathered," turned freely in any direc- tion; and, second, those which allow only a backward and forward hinge motion. A shows a simple form of the first class. It consists merely of two stout round pins of oak or other heavy wood, fitted into two adjacent holes in the gunwale of the boat, and reach- OUR BOYS. 45 ing down into a second pair of holes in a block fastened below- inside. This oarlock is used often in ships' boats and small sail craft. It is essentially a " salt water " lock, and is seldom found inland. The oarlocks B and C are two forms of the most usual and perhaps best type. They are made of brass or galvanized iron. The latter material is stronger, although the former may be given a fine poHsh. These locks fit in iron sockets and when well oiled turn easily. Small eyeholes are cast in the sides, by means of which cords may be fastened to them. It is important to have these cords always secure, as without them it is an easy matter to lose a lock. We should advise our readers to use this kind of a lock. Show these cuts to the local blacksmith, and he will quickly give you a pair of wrought iron locks which will stand service. D, E, and F are for fixed oars. They need little explanation. D is simply an iron pin over which the oar fits ; E is a wooden or iron pin to which the oar is fastened with a piece of rope. This type is much used in boats in the Med- iterranean seaports, and is employed exclusively on the "caiques," or gon- dolas, of Constantinople. In F we have the form used on most river boats in this country. The oar is attached to the lock, which pulls out of its socket when the former is removed. This is a convenient form for lumbermen, etc., who have occasion to drop their oars suddenly and attend to some other task, but for our amateur club we can hardly recommend it as "shipshape." As to a rudder, G shows the simple arrange- ment. Two long pointed hooks on the rudder fit into eyeholes which are screwed to the sternpost. The rudder head may be made of hard wood. Handsome crosspieces of open iron work, nickel or silver plated, are always to be had. Steering lines of stout, white cotton rope are to be preferred to 46 OUR BOYS. colored picture cord. Everything neat, simple, and scrupu- lously clean, should be the boat club's motto. We shall not consider the many different types of oars, only that to be used with the oarlock which we have recommended. First of all, the club must decide whether to use two pairs of short oars or one pair of long oars. In the former case the oars should be of ash, about eight or nine feet long, with well- tapered and symmetrical blades. The middle parts, which come in contact with the oarlocks, should be covered with leather. Very small tacks should be used for this purpose. It is bet- ter to let a harness maker sew the collar around the oar and then secure it with a few small tacks. If the long oars are preferred they should be from eleven to twelve feet in length and have long handles, for as each oarsman will use only one oar he must have room for both hands. For long rows and cruising the small oars are better, but for spurting in open water the long "pair-oars," as they are called, will be found effective. For the work of an amateur club, such as we are proposing, we should not advise the use of racing sculls or light, fancy oars. They are more appropriate for a shell or light barge than for a captain's gig on a man-of-war. Our boat lies at her moorings, glistening with paint, varnish, and polished brass work. The cushions are in place, the rud- der ready, and the oars lie along the thwarts (seats). See, here come the crew in their new suits — blue blouses, baggy trousers, and jaunty hats. They seem like regular salts. Let us see how they handle their craft. One man stands at the bow and the captain at the stern, while the two others step in the boat from the dock. Notice that they do not step on the seats, and that they place their feet on the middle of the bottom board. Now the captain takes his place on the cushion at the stern and grasps the steer- ing ropes. " Push her off," comes the order. The bowman, who has unfastened the painter, shoves the boat out into the stream with the boat hook. OUR BOYS. 47 "Oars up." The rowers take their oars (we are supposing a pair-oar, that is, where each man rows one oar) and, rest- ing the handles on the bottom board, hold the blades perpen- dicularly in the air. "Let fall." The oars drop, not too heavily, into the oar- locks. "Make ready, starboard, go." The rower whose oar is on the right side of the boat rows a few strokes. " 'Vast starboard." The starboard rower ceases to row, his strokes having turned the boat's head from the shore. "Ready all." Both rowers bend forward as in Fig. 1. The backs are straight, the arms thrust well out, and the oars poised in the air just above the water. The man nearest the captain is the "stroke," and the other oarsman keeps his eye fixed on the stroke's neck. "Go." At the word the oars dip into the water until the blades are just covered, and, with straight backs and heads well up, the rowers swing smart- ly back with a snap near the beginning until they reach the position indicated in Fig. 2. They do not lean back so far as to make recovery of the up- right position difficult. The body stops first, and the hands bring the oar handle up nearly to the lower part of the chest. This movement from Fig. 1 to Fig. 2 is the stroke. Now comes the recover. The body remains perfectly still, while the hands, depressed a little to raise the blade from the water, are thrust quickly forward to their full extent. The body fol- lows them easily, and position ( Fig. 1) is recovered. This is the essence of a good stroke. We have said nothing Fig. 3. 48 OUR BOYS. of "feathering," which is generally practiced by good oars- men. It consists in turning the blade of the oar flat on the recover. It is done for several reasons, among which these are prominent : 1 . When rowing in a rough or choppy sea the oars need not be raised so high;. 2. In pulling against a head wind feathering considerably decreases the difficulty of re- cover because less surface is exposed; 3. "Feathering" is often necessary to steady light racing shells, the oars skipping along the surface of the water on the recover. "Feathering" is done entirely by the wrist, as shown in Fig. 3 . At the beginning of the stroke the wrists are held straight, as in b, and the oar blade is perpendicular to the water. Toward the end of the stroke -the wrist begins to turn toward the rower, until at the beginning of the recover it is in the position a, and the oar blade is parallel to the water. The wrist keeps this position during the recover until, near the end, it begins to straighten, reaching position b again in time for the stroke. We have given now all the instructions strictly necessary to master the stroke. Careful reading of these hints and diligent practice will enable the crew to row well and scientifically. All that is said of single oars may be applied to pairs, except the orders " Oars up" and " Let fall." THE STORY OF A GREAT RACE. JACK is a Harvard freshman, and a nice fellow too. I've always known him, and was always with him until a year ago, when he went to college at Harvard and I came to Yale. We're friends just the same now, and he went to the Univer- sity boat race with me at New London — the eight-oared race on the Thames River between Harvard and Yale. We went up from New Haven together. Jack, freshman- like, had decked himself all over with Harvard's crimson colors, and he confessed to me that he felt out of place among so much blue ; for I think every person but Jack in those seventeen cars had on more or less blue ribbon, and even the red smokestack of the locomotive carried a long blue streamer, planted there by one of my adventurous classmates. Up at New London everything was astir. At the dock people were crowding on board of tugs and yachts, and on shore they were hurrying toward the grand stand on Winthrop's Point, near the finish, or to the "Observation train," We followed these last and found a score of platform cars rudely fitted with tiers of plank seats and shielded from the sun by an awning of white cotton cloth. As each of the twenty-four cars held its full number of seventy-two persons, we calculated that 1,728 people saw the race from the train. This moving grand stand was to be 50 OUR BOYS kept opposite the boats, so that its occupants might see the whole race. A little after six o'clock we were hauled into position, the train was made up, and two engines began pushing and pull- ing it out from the dirty railroad yard into the bright green country. We ran along the Thames shore for four miles to the start- ing point. Behind us the hills cut off the slanting beams of the low sun, and in front was the broad, blue, rippling river, with bobbing flags marking the miles and half miles of the racing course. Away down at the finish we could see the blackness of a crowd on Winthrop's Point, and before them on the water lay anchored a yacht fleet of fifty sail, cleft in the middle by a lane two hundred feet wide, through which the crews were to dash to the winning post. Ahead of us, on the opposite shore, was the navy yard ; still further north were the snug quarters of the Harvard men, and further yet a dark blue banner marked the boathouse of Yale. Looking ahead, as we rounded a curve we caught the rare beauty of our own long train^a quarter mile of color — gay with mingled red and blue. We halted at the starting point and waited, talking over the chances of the race and the loveliness of the scene, until after seven o'clock. The sun had just set when the eight stalwart oarsmen of Harvard paddled across the stream in their narrow shell, looking in the distance as if they sat astride a floating log. Soon Yale came swinging down stream to her place. Two men in skiffs hold the light shells on a line. The boats are so near the high bank that we on the train cannot see them. We see only a dozen crowded steamers hanging in midstream waiting for the word ; we see only the referee as he leans for- ward in the bows of the Yale steam launch and shouts in a ringing tone to the brown-backed giants under the brow of the bluff. "Can you hear me, Yale? " ( Yale has the west course and is farther from him, but nearer us.) "Are you ready? " "Go!" 52 OUR BOYS. The crimson oars were the first to dip, and when we saw the shells a second later the Harvard boat had poked its tawny- nose a foot before the prow of Yale. Then the crowds on sea and shore, who had been hushed for a moment in their excite- ment, broke loose in a tumultuous shout. Gray-haired men yelled with the boys, and I noticed that some of the girls screamed too, in their own scared sort of way. Ribbons and flags flapped as though a hurricane had struck us. The crews were in full view now, the sixteen strong naked backs alive with quivering muscles, rising and falling in per- fect time. We were making all the noise; they were silent, only for the shrill cries of the coxswain and the low orders of the stroke. We were all yelling at the top of our lungs, and I could feel Jack quiver with excitement and his voice was lost in the swelling cry of "Harvard!" as the crimson slowly lengthened their lead. The boats were moving swiftly, and the train was now hurrying along the track over which we had come so quietly a few minutes before. After two minutes Harvard deased to gain, and by inches Yale was making up her loss. I began to pluck up courage. My voice was almost gone now, but I would have given my last breath to help on that thundering cry of "Yale!" which told that the boats were abreast again. At the end of the first half mile Yale had the lead, and I was calm enough to count the strokes of both crews. Harvard was rowing 36, Yale 32 to the minute. But there was no doubt that the Yale boat was moving more swiftly than her rival. I looked at the two crews. Physically they were well matched ; the papers said the Harvard men averaged 160 pounds apiece, two pounds more than Yale. There was but one noticeable dif- ference in their movement. After the Harvards pulled their oars through the water the men "recovered" with a snap, rushing aft in the boat with their slides and throwing forward their hands and shoulders. This, or something else, broke the even motion of their shell and made it pause between strokes. The Yale crew " recover" slowly. They hurry their hands forward, but move slides and shoulders very gradually. OUR BOYS. 53 Their shell moves steadily on. But the Harvard men gain time for four more good strokes in the minute than Yale can pull; so her style also has its advantages. But I have spent five minutes in studying the crews, and Harvard still clings to Yale. They have rowed a mile and a half, and the leaders have never yet been far enough ahead to show clear water between the boats. So with the shells lapped we pass behind Mamacoke, the rocky promontory which for a fourth of a mile cuts off our view of the river. We give our men ' * three times three ' ' once more before we lose sight of them, and the Harvard supporters, still hopeful, if no longer confident, answer with an encouraging cheer. Then for two endless minutes we saw nothing but the gravelly banks of a railway cut. We didn't talk much. Jack and I. We hadn't much to say, and had very little voice to say it with. So we were silent, watching the men on the engine in front. They would be the first to see the crews. Both colleges were represented there; but it was the blue that leaped into the air as we rounded the hill and saw again the river and the straining oarsmen. In a second the train caught the omen, and was blue with flags and rocking with cheers. Two miles, and the boats still lapped ! Could we never shake them off, or would they dog us to the last and then row us down at the finish? No, they had fought their fight, and gradually Yale pulled away. Open water danced between the stern of Yale and the bow of Harvard, now at the two-and-a- half-mile flag, and the gap grew to three boat lengths, then to four. The race was Yale's. Down through the lane of yachts and steamers swept the laboring champions, and, only a few yards between them and victory. Harvard's gallant crew dashed on, fighting to the last, and finishing but fourteen seconds be- hind Yale. No. 2, of Yale, the youngest fellow in the boat, put his last morsel of strength into the final strokes and then fell back fainting on the knees of No. 1. But a splash of cold sea- water in the face brought him to his senses, and he smiled with the rest as the referee announced that Yale had won the race, 54 OUR BOYS. time 22 min. 56 sec, and delivered to the captain the rich silken flags, which were the only prize of victory. Jack and I made our way quietly back to the city with the crowd. The blue was flying everywhere. But I liked the way Jack stood by his colors. He said " he was sorry, of course, that his crew hadn't won, but he was as proud as ever that he was a Harvard man, for it was no disgrace to be beaten in such a hard race." MODEL YACHTING. THE sight of a smooth, clean block of clear white pine sends a boy's hand into his pocket in search of a jackknife as surely as he has a spark of ingenuity in his make-up. If the block is two or three inches wide and a foot long it almost as certainly suggests a boat, and ten chances to one the youngster will be found for an hour or two thereafter in some out-of-the- way corner laboriously whittling his prize into some sort of resemblance to a craft that he has seen or of which he has heard. He manages tolerably well, perhaps, with one side of the bow and with the opposite side of the stern, but when he comes to finish off both sides, so that they shall be exactly alike fore and aft, his troubles begin, and only end when he cuts his finger by an unlucky slip or breaks his knife in trying to hollow out the inside. F/G-URE /. Perhaps, however, he has the use of a set of tools and some kind of a shop, and in that case the result of his labors is con- siderably more like a real boat, and straightway he proceeds to rig it with a mast and sails ; and very likely has no end of fun with it, though its sailing powers may be very limited and it will only sail in one direction, and not very certainly even in that. There is no reason, however, why, with the same amount of work, he should not construct a boat that will sail reasonably well in any desired direction, and beat any craft of her size that is not still better planned and more skillfully con- structed. Everybody knows that model yachts are now built of large size — six feet or more long — and wonderfully com- plete in their fittings and equipment, but with these we will not deal at present. 56 OUR BOYS. Let us suppose that we have a block of white pine about three times as long as it is wide, and rather less than half as thick as it is wide. To be exact and have figures to follow, let us say twenty-one inches long, seven inches wide, and three inches deep. If you are not a good enough carpenter to square and smooth it nicely find some one to do it for you. A lopsided block will make a lopsided boat which will not sail. Draw a straight middle line A B, from end to end on top and ^ ^ D£Cf< ^^"^"^^.^^^ ^ .^ ^^^^^ \^ -^^'"'^ ^^^^^-^^_ ^ -^_____ BOTTOM ^ — c /"/aa/^E 2. bottom, and across the ends of the block, meeting the two long lines. (See Fig. 1.) Take a piece of thick paper or thin cardboard the exact size of the block and draw upon it the shape of the deck. To make the two edges alike double the paper on the line A B, and cut through both thicknesses. (See Fig. 2.) Lay this pattern on the block and mark the deck plan, using the edges of the paper for a guide. Take a similar piece of paper and mark the bottom plan on the other side of the block. (See lower plan, Fig. 2.) Next take a piece of paper the size of the side of the block and OUR BOYS. 57 draw upon it a curve like that shown on the side of Fig. 1. Cut it out as in the case of the deck and bottom plans, and mark the line on both sides of the block itself. In drawing these curved lines it will be found very con- venient to have a thin, slender strip of wood which when bent will form a true curve. Such a strip may be cut from a piece of thin stuff such as is used for placing behind framed mirrors, or it may be sawed froiti the edge of a three-quarter-inch pine board. The curves which it will naturally take are good ones to follow. Stout pins or fine wire nails may be driven lightly into the wood and the strip bent against them to hold it firmly, while drawing the lines. Turn the block bottom uppermost, fix it firmly on the bench, and begin cutting away the corners until at the middle or cross section the block is something like C, Fig. 2. Toward the bow and stern the cross sections should be like D, Fig. 2. When the parts between the side lines and the bottom lines have been trimmed off, cut away all outside of the deck line, keeping the block the same size as the deck plan as far down as the wood remains. This done the block will look some- thing like Fig. 3, the sides being all curved plane surfaces. F/GURE 3. with an angle separating them along the side line. Now trim away these angles carefully, making fair round curves, and finish first with coarse and then with fine sandpaper. The block will then have become a very fair model of a rather broad, shallow boat with a flat floor, to which a keel can be attached when the time comes. The next operation is hollowing the interior. And this is perhaps the most difficult. It ought really to be done before shaping the outside, but that requires such careful measure- ments that it is probably best for most young builders to shape the outside first. It is very encouraging to see something that 58 OUR BOYS. really looks like a boat at an early stage of the work. The reason why the hollowing ought to be done first is that the block is then regular in shape and can be held firmly in a vise or laid flat on the workbench, where it will remain steady while working with a gouge. However, as we have shaped the outside we must make the best of it. A row of three-quarter-inch auger holes two inches deep bored along the center line serves as a good guide for the gouge. Aim to make the sides half an inch thick, except near the bow and stern and along the bottom, where they should be thicker for strength. At first free strokes may be made with the gouge, working from the ends toward the middle ; but when the thickness is reduced to about an inch more, care must be taken and the thickness must be constantly tested by feeling with the thumb and finger. It is possible, of course, to make the sides thinner than half an inch by careful work. If in spite of all care the gouge cuts through, two courses are open to the builder. Get a new block and begin over again, or cut away around the hole till the edges are half an inch thick, and then fit in a piece of wood as accurately as possible, covering all the edges with glue. Marine glue is best, but that is not easy to obtain in this country. Common glue will do very well, as the hole is to be painted over inside and out. Of course the mended place must be left twenty-four hours to dry before trimming ofE the projecting parts of the plug, but work may continue on the rest of the interior, and the keel may be set in place. This last should be half an inch thick and about two inches wide at the deepest part, near the stern. From a point about six inches from the stern it should narrow to nothing at the bow. The width given is greater than necessary, since it can easily be trimmed down if desired. Fasten it from the inside with three or four long, slender screws passing through the bottom from the inside. The deck is of pine, one quarter or one eighth of an inch thick. Turn the boat upside down upon it and mark the shape with a pencil. Cut it out, leaving a little to spare. Nail it to the gunwales with three or four fine wire nails on each side. OUR BOYS. 59 but do not drive the nails home, as the deck will have to be removed before being finally fastened in place. Trim off the edges and sandpaper them till they are fair with the sides all round. Cut a circular or oval opening in the middle of the deck large enough to admit the hand, and save the piece that is cut out for a hatch cover. It will be quite a close fit if neatly cut out, and a piece of the same material cut a little larger" and nailed to it with fine brass wire nails, and with a coat of paint or glue between the two pieces, will make a very satisfactory hatch. When all is done give the whole interior, including the under side of the deck, a coat of paint or three coats of brown shellac varnish. A great advantage of shellac is that it dries in a few minutes, and, while it is not quite so brilliant as coach varnish, is good enough for most purposes. The outside may as well be painted or varnished at the same time, and then both can dry together. The best material for sails is fine white muslin, a yard of which may be purchased for a few cents. The sloop or cutter is the handiest rig, and that is accordmgly described, though a schooner rig may be made on the same general principles. Now, one may guess at the relations of sails and hull, and may, perhaps, make a lucky hit and get them nearly right, but it is quite easy to make a sure thing of it by a few simple rules. There are two points in every sailing vessel that must be known before she will sail properly; namely, the "center of lateral resistance" of the hull, and the "center of effort" of the sails. You will need two or three bags of ballast, weighing, say, a quarter of a pound apiece. Have them small enough to go through the hatch. Shot is the best ballast, but sand or small stones will do. Bags are desirable because they will not shift easily if the boat keels over. A lead keel is best of all, but that is more trouble to make, so inside ballast is recommended. Place the ballast so that the boat will float with the bow rather higher out of water than the stern, and then with a stick try to push her gently sidewise through the water. A few trials will 60 OUR BOYS. show the point where she balances — namely, the center of lateral resistance. Make a mark where the stick rests, so that you will always know where this center is. Next draw the sails on a piece of stifE cardboard and cut out the irregular figure that includes them both. (See Fig. 4.) PATTERN. FIG-URE 4. SAIL PLAN From this cut out a narrow space representing the space between the two sails. Stretch a cord tightly between the two fixed points and balance the cardboard sail pattern upon it, taking care that the forward edge of the mainsail is parallel, or nearly -so, to the edge. Mark the line upon which the pattern balances (dotted line. Fig. 4). Somewhere it passes through the center of effort, and that is enough for present purposes. Now take the pattern and hold it upright on the deck in the position that will be occupied by the real sails, and move it till the center of efEort is exactly over the center of lateral resist- ance. Then you can mark the place where the mast should be stepped and see how long the bowsprit must be. If you do not like the look of the sails when the two centers correspond you can shift the center of effort aft by increasing the width of the mainsail, or forward by increasing the size of the foresail; or you can shift the center of lateral resistance by moving bal- last or by trimming away the keel, as may seem necessary. At any rate bring the two centers as nearly as possible one above the other. When this is done cut the sail patterns apart and use them to mark out the shape of the sails on the muslin. The foremost edge (the " luff," as the sailors call it) of the foresail should be on the selvage of the muslin, and so, too, the aftermost edge (or "leech") of the mainsail. These are the two edges OUR BOYS. 61 most likely to stretch. Allow enough material for turning in a hem on all the edges. The mast should be about half an inch in diameter for a twenty-one-inch model, and about two feet long from foot to truck. The other spars are slightly smaller, and all are tapered a little toward the outer end. The spar at the foot of the mainsail is called the "boom," and that at the head the "gaff." It is a good plan also to have a light boom at the foot of the foresail. Small hooks maybe screwed into the ends of the gaff and booms, which hook into small screw eyes set in masts and bowsprit. The sails are laced to the spars with needle and thread, and the foresail is in like manner attached to the forestay and to its own boom. The rigging is best made of small fishing line, and to set it tip so that it can readily be taken down a number of small brass hooks are convenient. These may be made of wire, or the ordinary hooks and eyes of the shops may be made to answer. It is very convenient to be able to take everything to pieces so that the boat can be more easily carried. The mast is stepped simply by boring a half-inch hole in the deck and another in the block of wood screwed to the bot- tom inside. To step the bowsprit, set a half-inch screw eye at the extreme bow and a smaller one on the deck three or four inches nearer the mast. This should pass through the deck into a cleat on its under side, and the keel of the bowsprit should be cut to fit this smaller screw eye and project half an inch beyond it. The bowsprit is held in place by the "bobstay," the line passing from the bowsprit end to a screw eye set in the cut- water near the water line. It is made fast to the bowsprit and hooked into the screw eye. The "forestay" is also made fast to the bowsprit and hooked to the masthead. It should be made so short that when fastened the mast will bend slightly forward. Probably the forestay will be enough to prevent the mast from jumping out of its step, but if not, side stays may be made fast to the mast head and hooked to screw eyes set in the gunwales nearly opposite the mast. The halyard I OUR BOYS. ■ 63 which holds up the gaff is hooked to the mast and made fast to the gaff. The sails are regulated by means of lines called " sheets," which are made fast to the booms and carry a small ring on the other end, which runs upon a wire stretched across the deck, say, quarter of an inch above it at the points marked A B in Fig. 5. Small screw eyes may be set in the deck or gunwales to support these wires, which are called "horses." The rings are ' ' travelers . ' ' The boat is now ready for service. She might be made prettier and more graceful in many ways, but she should give a fairly good account of herself on any point of sailing. It is impossible to tell beforehand how any boat is going to behave. She may need to have her ballast shifted toward bow or stern. She may sail better on one tack than on the other; many large craft do that ; and all vessels have little peculiarities that can only be found out by becoming intimately acquainted with them. A great deal of ingenuity has been expended upon contriv- ing models and sail plans that will steer themselves, and some skillful builders dispense with rudders altogether. They claim that their boats will go in any direction if the sails are prop- erly trimmed. It is better, however, to have a rudder. The simplest form for our model is seen in Fig. 5, two screw eyes being set in the stern post and keel, and two corresponding . hooks, or "pintles," in the rudder. If, however, an over- hang stern is preferred the rudder must be made with a round post which fits into a hole bored upward on a line with the stern post through the overhang of the stern. The rudder post may be tapered, in which case the hole must be tapered also. It may be bored with an ordinary bit and reamed out so that it will be largest at the lower end. This is done so that the rudder can be pushed in tightly enough to stay in any position in which it is set. It must be remembered, however, that the wood will swell as soon as it is wet, and if pushed in too tightly at first it may become so firmly set that you cannot get it out until it dries and shrinks. Another way is to make the rudder post without a taper and long enough to reach up 64 OUR BOYS. through the deck. Such a one should fit loosely enough in its case to turn easily whether wet or dry. At the head of the rudder post is fitted a slender handle, or tiller, in such a manner that whatever the position of the rud- der its end will press firmly upon the deck. A row of pins is set crosswise of the deck (brass wire nails are as good as any- thing), and by springing the tiller upward and letting it down between any two of these pins it will hold the rudder at any given angle. A more scientific way is to have a self-acting rudder, one that is made partly of lead, so that when the boat leans over to one side the rudder will swing of its own weight to the same side. Some model- yachtsmen have a set of several differ- ently weighted rudders to use in winds of different strength. If the self-acting rudder is tried it is best to make it rather broad and have a good solid strip of lead at the aftermost edge. A still easier way, however, is to let the tiller project aft from the rudder head (see Fig. 5) and have a leaden weight fitted to it which can be moved back and forth on the tiller, accord- ing to the amount of helm required. The tiller may be made of a piece of stiff brass wire, and the leaden weight may be fastened at any point by a small wedge or plug of wood thrust into the hole through which the wire passes. The best way of all is to have a screw thread turned on the wire or to buy a brass rod with a thread turned upon it. A number of trials will have to be made before you can tell with certainty how much or how little helm will be required with a given wind. The point to be aimed at is so to adjust the helm that the boat will sail as long as possible on one tack without going about. As all winds are more or less variable it is usually necessary to give her rather more helm than she really needs to bring out her best speed. The general courses which a boat may sail are four in number : 1. Close hauled — that is, with her bow pointed as nearly as possible in the direction from which the wind comes. 2. On a reach — that is, with the wind blowing more or less directly against her side. OUR BOYS. 65 3. With a free wind — that is, blowing from behind, but not directly astern, 4. Before the wind. In the first instance the mainsail must be sheeted in rather close, and the forestay sail a little less close. Start her off on either tack and watch her behavior. If she shows a tendency to fall off — that is, present the broadsides of her sails more and more squarely to the wind — she has too much helm ; but if, on the contrary, she keeps coming up into the wind and shaking her sails she has too little helm, and must be treated accord- ingly. On a "reach" the sheets are slacked away till the booms form an angle of about thirty degrees with the hull. On this course she will require more helm than when close hauled. With the wind free, or on the quarter, the booms are slacked away to an angle of about forty-five degrees and still more helm provided. Before the wind the main boom is at a right angle with the hull and may very likely require to be held in that position by means of a line passing forward and known as the " boom tackle." Give her all the helm possible, for on this course the tendency is very strong to shoot up into the wind. This may sometimes be corrected by booming out the forestay sail on the opposite side from the mainsail. To do this another light spar is required, one end of which is attached by means of a hook to the after end of the forestay sail boom, while the other end is in like manner fastened to some point on the gunwale. With the sails arranged in this manner the boat should be very fast down the wind, but it is not always easy to make her do it until her habits are well understood. There are ingenious and elaborate devices for self- steering boats, whereby the main sheet is attached to the tiller and the action of the rudder becomes more or less powerful according to the pressure of the wind upon the sail. These devices re- quire such nice adjustment that a description is not attempted. The places to see model yachts in their greatest perfection are probably Prospect Park, in Brooklyn, N. Y., and Central Park, in New York city. On the lakes in these parks of a 66 OUR BOYS. Saturaay afternoon one may generally find a very considerable fleet afloat, some of them almost large enough to carry their owners and requiring two men in a rowboat to manage them and prevent accidents. Such vessels are very pretty and scientific, but they are a great bother, and for most people are not half so much fun as a boat less than two feet long such as has been here described. The pursuit of model yachting as a sport and recreation, not only for boys but for grown-up men who love the water, is becoming more popular every year, and the model yacht fleet in America is setting a noble example to the navy of the United States. Model steam yachts are already in demand, and ironclads with ramming arrangements and electric lights are only a question of time. A GREAT YACHT RACE. IF Queen Elizabeth was frightened at the approach of the Spanish Armada, how, we wonder, would she have re- garded such a flotilla as crowded New York harbor ? Majestic ocean steamships, great, white Hudson River boats, harbor excursion steamers, trim yachts with shining paint and bur- nished brass, tugs, rowboats, and everything else that floats, even a reckless United States naval cutter, crowded around two snowy mountains of canvas, the "Volunteer" and the "Thistle." Here were the Goulds, the Astors, and the Van- derbilts, in their costly private yachts, and the Joneses, Browns, and Smiths, apparently just as happy in their dingy, wheezy tugs or crowded steamers. So closely massed were the craft that one could easily imagine that a second Xerxes had thrown a bridge of boats across a western Hellespont. The black smoke and blue steam from hundreds of vessels rose in beautiful con- trasts, and thousands of flags and stream- ers floated in the almost breathless air. " Is there going to be any wind?" is the anxious question all over the fleet. Old salts knowingly scan the sky and dubiously shake their heads. The flags flutter feebly, the yachts' sails are flat and lifeless. It is noon. Suddenly a slight breeze straightens out the flags, a gun fires, the "Volunteer" and "Thistle" swarm with sailors, up come the anchors, the Scotch boat rounds to, begins to feel the air, and she moves off like a huge bird. The "Volunteer" soon follows, but is much more sluggish than her black- hulled rival, who turns and wheels with the America's cup. marvelous ease. The Scots are jubilant, and the bagpipes play. Softly, Caledonian friends, that famous centerboard is 68 OUR BOYS. not down yet. The yachts tack back and forth until the last gun fires, when they make for the starting line. The " Thistle " crosses first amid a perfect pandemonium of whistles, great and small, deep and shrill; the "Volunteer" is close behind, sluggish no longer. Like a race, horse she leaps after her rival. What, do the bagpipes falter? The Yankee is gaining on the canny Scot. The "Thistle" goes about toward Long Island, but the "Volunteer " keeps on her way. It is an unlucky move for the Scotch skipper. He finds himself in a dead calm, while the "Volunteer" is skimming SHEER PLAN OF THE "THISTLE." away toward Sandy Hook. At last he escapes and begins a hopeless chase. The race is really over now. The Boston boat is showing a clean pair of heels to the cutter from the Clyde. And now while the yachts are on their way to Sandy Hook let us see what the race means. Why are these two boats, costing thousands of dollars, and built especially for this race, chasing each other down New York harbor, while England and the United States wait breathlessly for news of the result? In August, 1851, at Cowes, England, the Yankee schooner "America" won what was then known as the "Queen's Cup," but has since been called the "America's Cup." In 1857 the owner of the "America" gave the cup to the New York Yacht Club on condition that it should be a perpetual challenge cup — that is, that under certain rules any foreign yacht could try to win the trophy. Six unsuccessful attempts have been made by England to recover this coveted cup, and let us trust that the efforts of the future will be equally fruitless. But to return to the race. The " procession," as the wags OUR BOYS. 69 term it, is still going on in the same order, and there is no danger of it being reversed. The "Volunteer" has passed Sandy Hook and is flying out toward the lightship, eight miles away on the broad Atlantic. The great fleet rush after her, and the "Thistle" is left two miles in the rear. As the steamers sweep out into the open sea an elated and inebriated fellow-passenger wisely remarks, " It takes a big ocean to hold all these boats." This gives, perhaps, an exaggerated idea of the flotilla, but it was large enough for the harbor if it didn't occupy the entire surface of the Atlantic. Soon the THE "volunteer." 70 OUR BOYS. THE "THISTLE. white sloop rounds the lightship and scampers for home like a frightened gull. But she has no cause for alarm. It is twenty minutes before the * ' Thistle ' ' arrives and begins the hopeless chase. Once inside the Hook the " Volunteer " turns toward the Narrows, and has a straight course before the wind to the finish line. See, her men who have been lying flat on deck are " up and at it." A spar swings out to starboard, a white sail flutters for a moment, swells into a lovely curve and the " spinnaker " is set. Could there be a more glorious sight? The huge mainsail on one side, balanced by the snowy OUR BOYS. 71 spinnaker on the other, a great topsail surmounting both, the whole aglow with the ruddy light of the sinking sun. The steamers and yachts have formed a broad avenue all the way to the finish. Along this waterway the proud boat glides like a triumphant Roman general entering the imperial city. But no Caesar ever had such an ovation of steam whistles, shouts, and cannon as greeted the great white sloop as she majestic- ally crossed the line and calmly furled her sails. The captains hung on their whistle cords, the people yelled and cheered and tossed their hats and went wild with excitement. The first race was ours, and whatever the final result we cannot forget the triumph of that moment. Nineteen minutes later the *' Thistle " received a warm welcome — much warmer, in fact, than she would have found had she come in ahead. The first race is over. We have met the enemy and they are lOurs. There is a bad leak in the bagpipes. The second day's race was twenty miles out to sea and re- turn, starting from the Scotland Lightship. The " Volunteer" gained an immediate advantage, which she maintained to the finish, winning in magnificent style by eleven minutes. There was plenty of wind, and no interference on the part of steam- ers. The race was fair and decisive. The "America's Cup " was safe. A YOUNG PHOTOGRAPHER. TOM WOOD was a grammar school boy of fifteen, with a bright eye, a clear brain, and a thirst for experimental knowledge. The pictorial instinct which is first betrayed in scrawls upon the slate which need a label to indicate definitely the purpose of the limner, and which is afterward developed by practice of the school drawing lessons, was a prominent feature of Tom's mental outfit. His sketches and caricatures revealed the inspiration of the true artist, and his more careful studies carried up the percentage of his class in the exami- nations and were a prominent factor in the average hope of promotion. The love of doing and making things, and the passion for finding things out, are usually coupled with a creditable degree of skill in the use of tools and a fair endowment of what the Down Easter calls " gumption." Tom was that way himself. In all that pertains to deftness with the jackknife he was a past master. He had dabbled in such branches of chemistry and optics as are within the reach of a boy of limited income, until his friend Joe Hardy, who adds to his already brilliant repertory of words an occasional French expression, spoke of him as "quite mtfait in such matters." The epidemic of amateur photography, which has numbered so many victims, unhesitatingly marked Tom for its own. Here was a process which, instead of a feebly attempted copy of nature, gives us nature itself, with every gradation of light and shade and every detail of form and texture. It was so admi- rable in its methods and so perfect in its result sas compared with the best efforts of his pencil that his soul yearned to pos- sess its secrets and perform its miracles. But how? A catalogue of the appliances by which the necromancy was to be accomplished was sent in return for a small remittance in stamps forwarded by Tom and Joe, and the twain eagerly perused its contents. A brief study revealed the fact that an OUR BOYS. 73 outfit would cost ten dollars, and as the sum was many times the amount of their combined funds they were in despair. It could not be done. Still their interest in the subject incited them to continue the perusal of the pamphlet, and they were rewarded by finding a description of the process, which, with its plain formulas and definite directions, was simplicity itself. Anybody could do it if he only had the apparatus ; but the obstacle seemed in- surmountable. Tom studied the problem by day and dreamed of it at night. He knew something of the laws which govern the re- fraction of light, as illustrated by the burning glass or his grandmother's spectacles. The essential features of the photographic camera seemed to be a darkened chamber (in fact, as his philological friend Joe assured him, the full name " camera obscura " meant precisely this), a small aperture on the side nearest to the object to be " taken," and a place to put the picture plates in focus. His bedroom window looked out upon the red woodhouse, the new carriage house, the grape arbor, and orchard, while a thousand feet distant was the domicile and outbuildings of the Hardys, and, still beyond, the hills and the sky. Why not darken the window and make a camera of the bedroom? Jiminy! It was just the thing ! They studied the catalogue again and found that a box of one dozen 4x5 dry plates already sensitized could be bought for ninety cents, and though the raising of this amount might require some good financiering they were sure they could man- age it, and Tom believed himself capable of solving any merely mechanical problems that might present themselves. Luckily it was vacation, and they could command the neces- sary time. In the first place they fitted a board a foot wide across the bottom of the window, and in the middle they bored a one- inch hole, blackening its interior to prevent the reflection of any stray rays of light. On the outside of the hole they fas- tened a piece of sheet lead, in the center of which was a round aperture of one quarter inch in diameter. Against the inner 74 OUR BOYS. c side of the hole they secured a spectacle glass, taken from a pair of grandmother's the nosebridge of which had been broken. Tom explained to Joe that this was the lens, while the hole in the board was the lens tube, and the piece of lead the diaphragm or ' ' stop ' ' of which they had read in the much- perused catalogue. Tom next proceeded to cut a hole five inches square in the board at one side, and to cover it with red paper. " This," said he to Joe, " is my red lantern. You know it says that the box of plates must be opened * only in red light, ' and not too much of that; but I guess the two thicknesses of this paper will make it safe enough." He then arranged a flap of cardboard with a cloth hinge, so that the red light could be shut out when desired, and covered the top of the window with shawls and quilts till not a ray of light could pene- trate it. As the demonstration of the experiment drew nearer the two boys were in a glow of expectancy. The screen of red paper was found to diffuse a glow of rosy light on everything within range, and was pronounced just the thing. This was shut off and the room was absolutely dark, excepting the beam of white light that came in through the lens. The grand test was now to be made, and Tom actually trembled with excitement. A piece of white paper was held just back of the lens, and a round spot of white light was seen upon it. They were disappointed. As they drew the paper away, however, traces of color and form began to show, and when at a distance of about twelve- inches, wonder of wonders ! there was the picture, clear and distinct, in all the beautiful tints of nature ! Soft, fleecy clouds were drifting across the lovely blue of the sky, the green trees were waving in a fresh breeze, the distant hills were hazily outlined against the hori- zon, and everything was as perfect as nature itself! It was bottom up, but that didn't matter. The apparatus was perfect so far as that particular view was concerned, and the boys felt Fig. \.—.4, tube ; B diaphragm ; C, lens. OUR BOYS. 75 that they were well repaid for their trouble, even if they never made a photograph. The experiment had furnished fun enough for one day and a basis for a series of highly ornate and picturesque dreams that night. The cost of the chemicals was by no means formidable. Tom knew a druggist who let him have such things at about the cost price. A quarter of a pound of oxalate of potash cost ten cents, four ounces of copperas two cents, and the same quantity of hyposulphite of soda another two cents. These were purchased the next day and the chemical outfit was complete. Tom took two round vials, a big and a little one, cut off the top just below the neck with one of those glass-cut- ters you buy at the corner of Fulton Market for ten cents, and pasted a strip of paper the whole length of each. He then borrowed the druggist's graduate and poured into the vials different quantities of water, marking the paper the height to which the vial was filled by each, and when he got through he had two accurate measures for liquids — one for ounces and the other for drams. On reaching home he put the four ounces of oxalate into a bottle, added one pint of water, and shook it occasionally until dissolved. The four ounces of copperas were put in another bottle with one pint of water, and the hyposulphite was dissolved in one and a half pints of water. As the plates were small any table utensils of six inches or more in diameter would answer for developing-trays- dinner plates, for instance. The plates had been bought in the meantime, and all was ready. Two ounces of the oxalate solution were measured, and poured into a tumbler, and three drams of the copperas solution were added to it. The combined liquid changed in- stantly to a deep orange red. This was the developer. Two ounces of the hypo solution were poured into another tumbler, Fig. 2. -large 76 OUR BOYS. ^ 'A and both were taken, with the two dishes and the box of plates, into the bedroom. A table of the same height as the lens was moved in front of the window, and on the table was placed a frame having two grooved uprights for holding the 4x5 plates in position. In constructing this Tom had used a piece of cardboard of the same size as the plate, and this was now in the grooves. A flap was fitted over the lens so as to shut off its light when necessary, and the window was darkened. Fig. 3. -A, lens aperture ; B, rack for holding card and plate. The rack carrying the white card was now slid on the table until the image of the outside landscape was perfectly sharp and clear, and the rack was fastened in place. The light from the lens was shut off and the red light let on. The box of plates was opened and a plate put in the rack, with the dull or gelatine side next the window. Now comes the vital test of the experiment ! The light from the lens is let on for just three seconds and again shut off. The plate is put in the dish and the developer poured on it, and it is rocked back and forth so that the liquid flows evenly over its surface. For a few seconds the boys watch the surface of the plate with breathless attention. It looks perfectly plain, and, by the red light, of a delicate pink color. For the first ten seconds nothing appears, then a dark patch spreads over the top, then the outline of the nearer buildings comes out, with windows, doors, and other detail. The boys are enraptured. The distant hills grow darker and merge into the sky. The foliage takes form, and the whole seems turning gray, and, as this is the stage at which, accord- ing to the directions, the development should stop, the solu- tion is turned back into the tumbler, the plate rinsed with OUR BOYS. 77 water from the pitcher, and then the hypo solution is poured over it. The effect of the hypo was singular. The milky and trans- lucent coating of the plate (it was not really pink, that was the effect of the red light) slowly became transparent, ex- cepting the dark parts which made the picture. It was a "negative," sure enough. The parts that were light in the view were black in the negative, while those that were dark showed nearly or quite transparent, while all between were represented by variously graded half-tints. When Tom held up the cleared plate to the red light he went into ecstasies over the result. He knew now that it could be carried out into daylight, as the hypo had dissolved out all the silver salts that had given light sensitiveness to the film. All that remained to do was to wash the plate thoroughly and dry it, when it would be ready to print from. The simplest kind of printing is the ferrocyanide, or "blue print," such as you have seen in the show cases of dealers in mathematical Instruments. The photograph supply dealers sell a nice printing frame for fifty or sixty cents, but our boys had already exhausted their funds. So they Impro- vised a frame in this way: They took a pane of glass, cut with the ten-cent glass-cutter, an Inch wider on each side than the negative, or 6x7 inches, and having cut a half-Inch board to the same size they glued upon one face of it a piece of canton flannel. First they laid the glass on the table, on this the negative, gelatine side up, then a 4x5 piece of the ferrocyanide paper (purchased from the dealer), yellow side down, and lastly the board, with the flannel next the paper. The four were then fastened together by four spring clothespins at the corners. Next the affair was placed in the sunshine for ten minutes or more, glass side up. By the end of this time the picture should be printed, and It was taken in out of the sun, released from the clamp, washed in plenty of water, and dried. When thus finished it was a beautiful view in blue and white, which delighted not only the Wood and Hardy families, but all the neighbors, and earned for Tom and Joe the reputation of being the smartest boys in town. 78 OUR BOYS. The ferrocyanide, or "blue print," is a very attractive picture, as Tom explained to Joe; the color is a beautiful Prussian blue, lovely in tint and absolutely permanent. Every bright boy of fifteen ought to know that the root, fen means "iron;" but not everyone knows, as Tom did, that Prussic acid is hydrocyanic acid, and that this particular com- bination of iron and cyanide is the color whose commercial name we just mentioned. Joe remembered that prussic acid was * * that poison stuff I read about a while ago. The book says that its toxicant action " (a good word for our philologist) " is so sudden and powerful that a drop of it placed on the tongue of a dog will kill a man in five minutes/' "I guess you mean the dog, don't you?" said Tom. "Well, yes," said Joe, thoughtfully, "I guess it was the dog, come to think of it." As I said before, the pictures were charming. The tones varied from a dense indigo to the tints of the sky on a perfect June morning, while at the other end of the scale the high lights were a pure white. The boys were enchanted with their success, and the prints were exhibited with a perceptible glow of pride and satisfaction to an admiring circle of friends and relatives. Tom's father was a well-to-do farmer, the chairman of the school committee, and a believer in educational progress. As he examined the pictures, the result of perseverance and in- genuity as well as of artistic taste, his face betrayed his sympathy with the artist and his admiration of the work. He remembered how his father, thirty years before, had repressed with a strong hand his own artistic efforts and longings, and the feeling — almost aversion — that he felt toward him for years, and had hardly yet outgrown. His own boy should be encouraged and assisted, instead of being censured and re- pulsed, and he would enjoy his success as if it were his own. "Boys," said he, "you have done something so wonder- ful that it seem.s to me almost like a miracle. The pictures are really excellent, and I want to patronize you. What will you charge me for a dozen of them?" OUR BOYS. 79 The possibility of the intrusion of a commercial problem of this nature had not occurred to our young friends, and they were unprepared to answer. "Well," said he, "I will give you three dollars for a dozen as soon as you get them done." The boys were delighted to receive so practical an evidence of appreciation and so welcome an addition to their financial resources, and they accepted the proposition of Mr. Wood with profuse thanks and the assurance that they " really didn't expect any such good luck." As the next day was Saturday, and the sun shone clear and bright, the prints were made and the cash turned into the treasury. In a country place like Byfield intelligence spreads rapidly, and it did not take many hours for the circulation of the main facts among the boys and even the elder people. Among the admirers of the work was an aunt of Tom's who was in ecstasies over the accomplishment of her young nephew. "I want you," said she, "to make a picture of my house just like this, and I will pay you the same price and send you lots of customers besides." Here was a serious dilemma. Aunt Alice's cottage was a mile away and could not be moved over and got in range of the little aperture in Tom's bedroom window, nor could the Woods' domicile be carried around to this or the other local- ities where views were waiting to be made. Tom was in a quandary, but he had no idea of being van- quished by the difficulties that at first seemed insurmountable. He was silent and thoughtful for a few days, and for as many nights he cheated himself of sleep to think it over. At last the idea which had so long evaded his mental grasp downed upon him, and he was enraptured. The proverbial kitten with the dual caudal appendage, or old Euclid with his " Prop. 11th, 4th book," could not have been more thoroughly pleased. He could hardly wait till morning to impart the de- tails of his plan to Joe and commence the construction of the apparatus. The undertaking which he now proposed was the building of 80 OUR BOYS. a camera which could be used to take an unlimited number of beautiful views instead of a single one. He had a few well- selected tools, and he could procure such materials as a country town would furnish and the cash in hand would pay for. In getting his plans in practical form his knowledge of drawing was of great service and his mechanical skill in- valuable. We will try to describe his invention soclearlyand to illustrate it so fully that any one of our young readers whose aspirations run in the same direction may easily make an outfit for himself. A feature of the camera which Tom had seen in the cat- alogue, and which filled him with despair, was the bellows which allows the camera to be shortened or lengthened, and J c' I ■^ .A. C F.^. 1. jB which makes it look like an exaggerated accordion. He ad- mitted to himself that it was entirely beyond his skill. He could manage the rest, but this was the part which cost him so much thought and the obstacle which he had the final satis- faction of surmounting. "You remember," he said to Joe, "that we moved the white card to and from the window till the picture was clear and sharp on it. That's what they call 'getting the image in focus,' and in order to do it we must make the portable chamber so that the lens at one end can be moved toward or from the plate at the other end. Next we must make it all dark inside, like my bedroom, so that no rays of light can get in except through the lens, and then it will make a picture OUR BOYS. 81 all right and we can carry it about and make a picture any- where. "Now if you will look at my drawings, I guess you will understand it. Here in front (Fig. 1) is the board (i?), same as we had in the window, and here is the one-inch hole (£") through it. The spectacle glass (F) is at the back, and the stop in front — only instead of the piece of lead I shall use a cover (6^) made of thin cigar box wood with a one-eighth-inch hole in the center, and I have put another cover or cap (//) outside of that without any hole, and both swing on the same screw, which is turned up a little tight. The stop and cap are shaped like this (6^'). The cap is for shutting off the light before and after the 'exposure.' * ' This lens board of one-inch stuff is the front of a box (A), the sides of which (B, B) are three-eighths stuff, and the back open. Inside of this slides another box (C, C) which can be pushed out or in like a telescope, and is as good or better than the bellows. This box is without front or back, but with a groove made by the strips (^a, a, a, a) around the inside of the rear end — one side being left open so that the plate holder can be slid into the groove, making the back of the camera. As light cannot shine round a corner the strips will keep it out effectively." " But," said Joe, " how can we look in to get the plate in focus, as you call it, without letting the light in and spoiling the plate?" " That's easy enough," said Tom. "Where this dotted line is at the back of the camera we will put a pane of ground glass, or, if we can't get it, a sheet of thin white paper. Then if I cover my head and the back of the box with a cloth to keep out the outside light I can see the picture through the ground glass, don't you see?" " Well, I declare," said Joe, " if you haven't got a head! It is the same as the white card, but translucent enough to show the picture through. But how will you get the plate in and out without exposing it to the light?" " The plate holder fixes that," said Tom. " You shut the plate in a flat box with a sliding cover, and the box slides into 6 82 OUR BOYS. the grooves, as I told you, after the ground glass is taken out. Here, look at this drawing (Fig. 2). In the first place I cut out a piece of eight-ply cardboard, just half an inch larger all round than the 4x5 plate, which, of course, would make it 5x6 inches. Next I made two of the same size, but with the center cut out just the size of the plate, like the inside line. Then I made a third the same, except that the margin at one end was wider, like the dotted line (<^) projecting inward one eighth of an inch beyond the other two. The center of the next card is cut out by the other dotted line, and I was care- ful to save the piece cut out. The last is just like the first two, and after they are all cut out I paste or glue them to- gether, just in the -order I have described them. I finally cover the edges with opaque paper and make the inside black. Here is a ' section ' showing how it will look if cut through the side at A. D is the whole card or the back of the holder ; d is the fourth of the cut-out cards, three sides of which {c, c, c') an eighth of an inch narrower than the others and the fourth side missing. This leaves a groove or recess in which the piece we saved (Q slides, making the sliding cover of the box. The ' section at B' shows the opening left at a by the missing side of the recessed card, and e shows the projection (<5) of the third cut-out card. ' ' To use the plate holder we pull out the slide (0 by a piece of cambric we have pasted on the end and left project- ing. This leaves the whole front of the plate holder open. Take the holder, slide, and box of plates to some place where we can shut out all but red light. ' * Now take the plate out of the box and place it in the holder, gelatine side up, sliding the end under the projecting edge of the third card, b. You can see how it will look by observing the sectional drawing (Fig. 2), in which E is the plate and e the projecting edge of the card. This holds it from tipping forward when in the camera, getting out f)f focus, and in the way of pushing in the slide after the exposure. ' ' Now push the slide into its groove and your plate is shut up safe from the light and can be carried anywhere without danger. Don't you see?" OUR BOYS. 83 At this point Tom surprises his friend by producing the plate holder all made and showing it to him. "I don't see how you can make such beautiful things," said Joe. '* I could no more do it than I could fly over the barn." "And I don't see how anyone can write such splendid compositions as you can," said Tom. "I guess every fellow has his own line of talent. Father says that everyone ought to be able to do at least one thing better than anybody else." z? C I ~ 1 ^ B ^//////////////////////A JS 5ic ti u> Fig. 2. Tom wished to reciprocate, and his compliment was really well deserved, although Joe's essays were sometimes more flowery than logical. ' ' Well, ' ' said Joe, * * when are we going to build the camera ? You haven't got that done, I suppose?" " I have started on it," said Tom, " but I want some hinges and a screw to fasten it to the top of the tripod. How much cash have we on hand?" ** Nearly four dollars," said Joe. ** Then we will have the ground glass instead of paper, and I will make a frame for it like a plate holder, only I will cut the back out so we can see through it. It will slide in the same grooves at the back of the camera, and as the two glasses will be in the same place the plate will be in focus if the ground glass is." The next Saturday the boys went to the village and made their purchases . They found at the hardware store some hinges of the required pattern, while an ingenious blacksmith made 84 OUR BOYS. them a screw and plate, finishing it in time for the boys to return to dinner. On the way back they called at the grocer's and bought a couple of empty boxes of three-eighths stuff, which were to be used as stock for the camera. After dinner the work was begun. The front board was cut out 5x6 inches, plus the thickness of the inner box. The for- ward section was formed around this by accurate fitting and nailing with one-and-a-quarter-inch brads, and as the focal length of the lens was eight inches each of the sections was made five inches long to allow a cap that would keep the light out. The rear section fitted nicely into the forward one, and a flap of cloth was pasted on at the inner end, like a weather strip, to make it light-tight. The right hand side of the rear section and of the groove was cut off to permit the plate holder and ground glass to be slid in, and the face against which the plate holder rested, as well as the interior of the groove, was lined with plush to exclude every ray of light. The inside of the camera and lens tube was painted black to prevent reflection of stray rays from the lens, and the outfit was complete, needing only a tripod as a matter of convenience. The three hinges purchased at the village were like the one shown here (^B, Fig. 3), but just four times <^--- >^^>- ^. ■?'^T as large. Each of these was screwed to the end of a stick one inch square and five feet long, sawed off a little, beveling at the upper end and sharpened to a point at the lower ex- tremity, to prevent slip- p i n g. A triangular piece of one-inch hard- wood board (^4) was next sawed out, a hole ((^) for the tripod screw was bored in the center and the' legs screwed on, as in our cut. The upper illustration represents OUR BOYS. 85 86 OUR BOYS. a "plan" of the bottom of the triangular tripod-top with one leg screwed on. The lower one is an " elevation," showing the side of the leg C, and another leg, D, turned down in po- sition for use. E is the tripod screw for holding the camera in place. The plate to which the tripod screw was fitted was next let in and fastened to the bottom of the forward section of the camera, which was then mounted on the tripod ready for work. On the next holiday our young friends were eager to try the new apparatus, and, after filling the plate holders, of which they now possessed a pair, they started for Aunt Alice's. The day was a perfect one, bright and clear, and the sun lit up the pretty cottage with its environment of trees and vines, making a charming picture, full of lights and shadows. The boys as- sisted the amiable mistress of the house to bring out the ole- ander and orange tree and a dozen of smaller plants, placing them upon the veranda steps, and Aunt Alice sat down among them with the dog and cat, while five-year-old Gertie sat by her side and the baby slept in her arms. Tom got the camera (Fig. 4) in position, put in the ground glass, opened both the shutters, and put an old shawl over his head to observe the effect. " It's just el- egant, Joe," said he. And Joe had to see and admire before any- thing more could be done. When the camera had been moved to the right distance to take in the picture, and the back had been slid out and in till the focus was perfect, the caps were both swung in place to shut out the light and the plate holder was substituted for the ground glass. Next, the slide was drawn back just far enough to uncover the plate, a pencil mark having been made as a guide before the plate was put in. Everything was ready for the denouement. " Now," said Tom, with an assumption of professional dig- nity, *' look right here and keep perfectly still." While Joe OUR BOYS. 87 managed to keep the curiosity of Gyp and Tabby just enough excited to secure their undivided attention, Tom swung the out- side lens cover back and left it open for just five seconds, re- covered it, and the exposure was finished. "All done, and thank you," said Tom, politely, while Aunt Alice expressed her surprise that it was so soon over. The boys next carried the camera to a more distant point, where the picture would include the whole cottage, with the trees, the grape arbor, and the front fence, and after making another exposure they started for home to develop the plates. They took the plate holders to Tom's chamber again, and by the red light they had the supreme satisfaction of producing two excellent negatives and afterward of making the dozen pictures, adding another three dollars to the treasury surplus and creating a new fervor of admiration among the people of Byfield. The possession of a portable apparatus gave our young artists the opportunity of making quite a variety of charming views of the scenery of the vicinity, and the practice of their art awakened in them a new appreciation of nature and a habit of searching for the beautiful and picturesque. The education thus acquired was of value not only in the special and practical line of their newly developed industry, but besides, and better than this, it imparted a fresh impulse to the mental and invent- ive faculties, and inspired a new growth in culture and refine- ment. Both had been trained in the Sunday school and brought up under the best of home influences, and the study of nature under such conditions would be almost sure to lead to a deeper reverence and a warmer love for the Author of all that is good and beautiful. The money gained by the sale of pictures and the habits of thrift and industry which were acquired by practice in art and finance, were but a part of the real advantage derived from the pursuit of photography. Up to this time the boys had attempted no pictures but the " blue print," and they began to feel as if a little variety, if not improvement, would be achieved by the adoption of some other style. 88 OUR BOYS. Some of their schoolmates who admired unreservedly at first had asked them, "Why don't you make real photo- graphs?" "Well," said Joe, "'photo' means light, and 'graph' means to draw or write. You know what 'graphic' means, I guess? Our pictures are made by the action of light and are 'real' photographs." " But why don't you print them in black and white, or in those pretty brown-blacks and purple-blacks, like the regular professional photographers?" "The fact is," said Joe, "we think the blue pictures are about as pretty as any and more of a novelty." He didn't like to. confess that he had wished that the pictures looked a little more "professional," as the boys called it, and that a prominent reason for their adherence to the blue formula was their ignorance, so far, of any other process. On the first opportunity Tom and Joe met to discuss the new problem. They were both of the opinion that an advance along the line of new printing methods would be desirable ; but they were afraid that the processes required too much skill and could only be managed by the aid of a teacher. Tom was going to the city in a few days, and it was decided that he should make inquiries and report on his return. "Come to think of it," said Joe, "you had better take along some money, and if you see anything we want just buy it and bring it home. I'll risk your judgment, anyhow." Tom had seen in some paper an advertisement of supplies for amateur photographers, and he made a note of the ad- dress and paid the store a visit. He explained that he was a beginner, and that he wanted the materials and directions for the simplest process of making pictures in black and white. The dealer listened with amused interest to the story of their past successes as enthusiastically related by Tom, and gave him a good deal of information and advice. "The thing you want," said he, "is the chlorobromide process. It prints in the sun just the same as the blue print, only you have to watch it a little more carefully so as to print OUR BOYS. 89 it just enough, and you finish it by ' toning ' in a solution that is already mixed and no trouble of any sort." After a few more questions and answers Tom bought two dozen sheets of the sensitized paper for thirty-eight cents, and a pint bottle of the toning solution for seventy- five cents. The dealer explained that the "bath," as he called it, could be used over and over, adding a little fresh solution from time to time as needed, so that it was by no means expensive. At his sug- gestion Tom also bought two oblong japanned pans for ton- ing the prints and a one-pint glass funnel. Tom figured that the cost of the prints would be about the same as the ferro- cyanide, and he believed that with the aid of the accompany- ing directions he could manage the manipulation. The sup- ply dealer gave him a sample print, representing a pretty mountain scene with a cascade falling down between massive rocks which were covered with mosses and ferns and flanked by fir and hemlock trees. Tom was very glad of this, as it would demonstrate to his partner the judiciousness of his pur- chases and, incidentally, serve as a sort of standard of excel- lence, the approximation of which would be their aim while perfecting themselves in the working of the new process. Joe was delighted with the print. Its colors were pure black and white, and the various gradations between, like the tints of a perfect steel plate or other engraving, giving firm contrasts and beautiful half tones. " I think I see," said he, " why the black and white pic- tures outlive all others in popular favor. It is because no other colors present so strong contrasts. Black is the very darkest color and white is the very lightest, so that the contrast is much more striking than between white and blue or any other color." " I never thought of it before," said Tom, a little surprised at the flow of Joe's erudition, "but I guess you are right. Now let's look at the directions and see what's to be done. It says that the print must be examined from time to time dur- ing the process of printing in order to tell when it is finished. We can't do that with our printing frame, as we could never get the paper back in place if we once took it out. You 90 OUR BOYS. A. B Fi3.% JL know we have got them right by timing the printing, and we have wasted a good deal of paper in learning to judge of the light before we could get it just right." "Well," said Joe, "what are we going to do?" In matters that involved inven- tion he was in the habit of leaving the whole affair to Tom. ' ' I saw, ' ' said Tom, ' ' a printing frame at the store which opened at the back by a hinge, so that while one end was held down by a stiff spring, keeping the paper firmly in place, the other could be lifted, the print examined, and, if not finished, it could be clamped down again and put in the sun a while longer. I have been thinking about it, and I believe I can make one, though it will not be dovetailed at the corners or made so nicely as the machine work. I shall make it in this way." And he sketched rapidly his plans for the new printing frame, explaining as he went along, so that Joe could see just how the construction would go on and what the result would be. Joe expressed himself as charmed with the simplicity and ingenuity of the plan, and it was agreed that the work should commence at the first opportunity. On the next holiday he went over to Tom's workshop and found him already busy. In the first place he got out two strips of board, one of which (shown in section at A, Fig. 1) was one inch wide and three quarters of an inch thick, and the other (-5) one and a quarter inches wide and one inch thick. Two pieces of the widest (^) six and one sixteenth inches long, and two pieces of the other (^), just two inches shorter, were sawed off and the long and short one were nailed together with one-and-a- half-inch brads, so that they were just even on one side, while Jvy.3 OUR BOYS. 91 J\ Fig J^ B projected a quarter of an inch at the other side (as shown in section at Fig. 1) and each end of B projected an inch beyond the ends of A (like Fig. 2). The two pieces of A were sawed seven and one sixteenth inches long, and two of B just two and a half inches shorter, and they were nailed together as in Fig. 3, in which A extends one and a quarter inches at each end beyond B. The frame was now ready to make up by lapping or ' ' halv- ing " together at the corners. Fig. 4 gives a "plan" view of the frame at this stage, AA being the one-inch wide pieces and BB the projecting extra width of the lower pieces. The dotted lines give a sort of isometrical perspective (get your dictionaries, boys), showing how the joint is made and how strong it is when all nailed together. A still nicer job can be made by gluing it up, but it necessitates waiting for the successive parts to dry. After this part of the work was satisfactorily completed a pencil mark was drawn all around the lower face of the frame three eighths of an inch from the inner -edge, and the corner was beveled off to prevent the shadow of the frame from falling on the print if it did not exactly face the sun. Tom did this very easily with a wide chisel and a pocket knife. Fig. 5 shows a section of the frame after this change was made, c being the point on the face of the frame from which the line is drawn, and b the part removed, the dotted line showing the orig- inal contour. A similar bevel was taken off the sides of the frame at the back a quarter of an inch deep and wide (see a. Figs. 5 and 6). The back of the frame {C, Figs. 5 and 6) is made of half- inch stuff, just the size of the recess at the back — in this case 77 J\ 92 OUR BOYS. A r -0 1 [ 2 A a 1 C 1 _2i 5 ® i7 [ C E Ficj. 6. a little over 4x5 inches to allow of slight variation in the size of the plates . This back is sawed in two halves ( at the dot- ted line, Fig. 6), and a hinge ( C) of thin leather is glued on. A flat spring {D, D) half inch wide, of spring brass or steel, is screwed or riveted to the center of each half of the back, the screw admitting of a sideways swing of the ends. This spring is curved upward at each end, so that when pressed down and swung under the buttons, E, E, it bears firmly upon the negative (F, Fig. 5) and holds the paper down closely to it. The bevel (^, a, Figs. 5 and 6) was taken ofiE to permit the ends of the spring to slide under the ends of the buttons, E, E, which are screwed rigidly to the wood. They are a little narrow in the drawing, but should be three quarters of an inch wide and one inch long. A one-inch burr makes a good enough button and costs almost nothing. When the frame was completed Tom proceeded to illus- trate its use. "Here is the frame," said he, "and here is the hinged back. You place the negative in the frame, laying it back down and gelatine side up. Now we lay the paper on the neg- ative, sensitive side down. We now put the back in and press the ends of the springs down and under the buttons, and we are all right to print." At this point Mrs. Wood called from the back door that dinner was ready, and the meeting was adjourned until this very pleasant duty had been discharged. After dinner the new chlorobromide prints were to be at- tempted, and the boys were impatient to begin. One of the choicest negatives was placed in the frame and a sheet of the new chlorobromide paper was placed upon it, face downward. The two sides were the same color and looked much alike, but a close inspection showed that the sensitive face was smoother OUR BOYS. 93 and better finished. One half of the back was placed in po- sition and the ends of the spring swung under the buttons ; then, after being sure that the paper was accurately placed, the other half was clamped down and the frame was placed in the sun. After a few minutes the frame was taken in out of the direct sunlight, one spring loosened, and that half of the frame lifted. The printing had commenced, the darker parts of the picture having turned a queer reddish brown. The boys were much interested in the gradual development of the print and the novel color which it took on, and im- mensely pleased with the working of the new frame which permitted such easy and frequent inspection of the process. "I wonder if it is done," said Joe, after about ten min- utes. " I guess not," said Tom. "The directions say we must print it till it is much darker than the finished print is expected to be, as it bleaches out a good deal in toning and fixing." ' ' What is the ' toning and fixing, ' as you call it, for, any- way? " asked Joe. " The toning," said Tom, " turns the red-brown to purple or black and bleaches the whole print several shades, so that the high lights become white, giving brilliancy to the pic- ture. The fixing dissolves from the paper all the sensitive chloride of silver which the light has not already acted upon, so that there is nothing left which is changeable by light, and the picture remains in statu quo ever after." "Good boy!" said Joe. "Your chemical knowledge is only exceeded by the elegance of your diction. By the way, isn't that print about done? " The forgotten picture was hastily taken in and examined, and it was so dark that both declared it spoiled. Even the sky was a decidedly reddish tone, and the detail in the darker parts was almost gone ; but they decided to save it and tone it with the rest. Another negative was placed in the frame, another print made, and then another, till four of the precious pieces of paper had been printed and were ready for toning. 94 OUR BOYS. Now came a stage of the work with which they were unfa- miliar, and which they attempted with some misgivings, but with strict attention to the directions. In the first place they put the prints, face downward, in water, in one of the new pans, moving them about constantly, so that each should be equally exposed to the action of the water, and changing the water twice. This was done in daylight, but in a part of the room where the light was quite dim. While they were soak- ing Tom mixed the toning and fixing bath by measuring four ounces of solution out of the bottle, pouring it into the pan and adding to it eight ounces of water. As the directions enjoined care in confining each operation to its own vessel they named the pan first used the ** first wash ' ' pan, and marked it F. W., while the toning pan was marked T., and the third pan, in which the final washing was done, L. W., for "last wash." When the preliminary soaking was finished the prints were placed in the toning pan, moved about as before, and the change in color observed. They were now face upward in sufficient light to show the color plainly, and the lower print was constantly pulled out and placed upon the upper, so that all was uniformly wet with the bath. Pretty soon the prints began slowly to turn lighter and at the same time to a sort of purple. Tom was delighted, as this was just what he expected. Slowly they turned through the intermediate shades till the reddish hue was all gone, the skies were almost or quite white, and the darker parts almost black. The colors faded till two of the prints were entirely too light, and the first, which was supposed to be spoiled by over-print- ing, was the only perfect one of the four. "Isn't it too bad," said Joe, "that we didn't make them all like that?" "Well, I don't know," said Tom. " Perfection is gener- ally reached through successive failures, and we have learned by this blunder just how to do it. We need not make the same mistake again." "That's so," said Joe. " ' Experimentia does it,' as our old teacher used to say." OUR BOYS. 95 When the prints had reached the tint that seemed to be about the thing they were well washed in the third pan, chang- ing the water two or three times, and were then ready to dry. The toning bath was poured into the quart bottle and put away for future use, and the pans were washed and dried. The prints were very good. They looked more like a steel plate than the common photograph, and were admired by every- body. The young partners were overrun with orders for work, their pictures were circulated far and wide, and their treasury was replete with shekels. TT" LJ-1-. i i i_j~i ! i ! i LJ- I I .lj. 3 rj A <3 M n""i"T'i k 5.: I u -I - X • X ■£> J - ; 2 ^ ;d O O 41 ^ :i J. - '1 5 I I s ._j '^ =^ lti o m o =1 =A6 u en ,1^ Lj.j,. —^ HOW TO MAKE A RAILROAD CAR. FIRST of all get a large piece of heavy cardboard, and with a ruler and pencil draw Fig. 1, copied exactly from the model card. It will be better to just double the dimensions given. Be careful to make all measurements exact with the ruler. A pair of compasses will be invaluable in doubling distances. When drawn, cut the floor out, cutting all lines ^ ^ and leaving all others. The wings sticking out at each end are the steps, and you must cut in each side of them as far as the platform. Next take a piece of pine one eighth of an inch thick and cut it just the shape of the car floor and platforms, not including the steps. This done, glue (mucilage or paste will be almost useless) the paper on the board so that they just fit upon each other. Now bend the steps down. So far we have a firm floor, platform, and steps. Next draw two sides like Fig. 2. This requires care and patience rather than artistic skill. A ruler, compasses, and pencil are needed. When these are ready to put on, moisten the edge of the floor board with glue and apply one side piece, bending it at the corner in a right angle, thus bringing the car end into place. The notched place under the door will fit down over the plat- form. The projecting flange to the left is to be bent and glued to the inside of the other side piece, which is ap- plied in the same way as the first. Pins should be stuck along the edge of the side pieces along the floor until the glue is dried and the cardboard firmly attached. .rr~rj:.-T^~ — ~- ~ \1 I ; . I 0' yJi o or €0 I\ J-Ai: OUR BOYS. 99 Thus far we do not think the work has been very hard. The roof is the most difficult, as it is the prettiest part of the work. A little ingenuity and a great deal of patience are de- manded in the folding, cutting, and gluing of this piece of card numbered 3. We assume that the plan has been drawn not on very stiff card (it bends unevenly and breaks easily), but on smooth, heavy writing paper which will fold nicely, and that the lines have been correctly copied, a difference being made between cutting lines ( ) and folding lines Fig. 4 shows how the roof should be folded so that there shall be ' ' overhangs ' ' above the ven- a^- tilators in the monitor roof and over _J the car windows. This folding requires ] sct^uiiSKocvwcj to\evs patience and care. When the folding ""^ '^''"^• is done the roof has assumed its proper shape. Glue should be run into the "overhangs" (^aa, Fig. 4), and the edges flattened down and held until they are firmly united. Now to finish the ends of the roof or " hoods," as they are called (Fig. 3 at the end). Cut from a to d on both sides. This will KJ.1+. t permit the center of the roof to 5.ae Vie«cs t..E.c§ RO.S Foi..e^ slope down, as shown in Fig. 5. avic\ GAvi-ci?^. p^-j- some glue on the triangular piece which hangs to the upper piece, and press this firmly to the side on which the ventilators are drawn. Do this on both sides. This will hold the end piece in place. It will do no harm to secure the ends by means of a fine cambric needle and thread. Short parts of the triangular pieces will project below the hood ; cut these away. Of course T't,^4v.e^o^Roo^ -i.e.. make both " hoods " the same way. ro-i£ve&.au-ic\ue.^ The roof is now ready to be put on the car body. Run glue along the outside of the lower flanges of the roof. Fit the roof down like the cover of a box, only let the flanges go inside. This part of the work successfully 05fer,the hard work is done. The details are now simple. Fig. 7 shows the end of one truck. A piece of pasteboard 100 OUR BOYS. with the drawing of wheels, springs, etc., is glued to each end of a small pine block (the figure shows the right proportion), which is in turn glued to the bottom of the car. Fig. 8 shows the wooden coupling glued under each platform and projecting a little way. Figs. 9 and 10 show how buffers may be made and fastened to the end of the platform. Fig. 11 gives an idea of the hand rails, made of fine wire or old hairpins, and thrust in awl holes in the woodwork. Do not work in a hurry. Do not use card- board for the roof. Be sure to have the best glue. With water color paints the car may be colored to suit the owner's taste, and a very pretty little model will it make if carefully drawn and put together. Fv^.l -TRUCK. Vi^ »-CO\jPHNGv !--^ Hqq-BVJNKtRS. THE "FESTINA." JACK and I considered ourselves capital- ists and inventors among the boys of our neighborhood. I am not quite so certain about our position as I was a few years ago, but a brief list of our achievements will en- able the reader to weigh for himself the jus- tice of our modest claim. It was in connection with a small railroad in my yard that we laid the foundation of our reputation. After enjoying this plaything for a few weeks with a select company of friends, it occurred to us to throw it open to the public. Tickets were printed, and for the sum of five pins anyone was entitled '- to a trip over the "Home Railroad." We had heavy traffic for some days a large fortune of pins, which we converted into coin at favorable rates. We patronized the candy shops, and had more friends than we could treat. This was success. Gradually, however, the novelty of riding over our line wore off, and our profits decreased alarmingly. Something must be done; that was plain. In a moment of inspiration we adver- tised an increase in the price of tickets, and offered an un- paralleled attraction. We would, in consideration of the higher rate, put obstructions on the track, derail the car, and pretend to scalp the passengers. This would afford our patrons all the excitement and some of the danger of Western life without any and amassed 102 OUR BOYS. of the expense incident to a long journey. The idea took like wildfire ; we spent one whole Saturday in scientifically bruis- ing the younger portion of the community, the pins poured into our coffers, and we were triumphantly happy. Our triumph was brief. We never did more than one day's wrecking and scalping business. The complaints of irate parents came in faster than we could file them. We found our business boy- cotted, and were compelled to return to the old system, which soon ceased to pay. Brief as our glory was, we had in- troduced our genius to the neighborhood in an unmistakable manner. It was a long time before our Indian depredations were forgotten. A Punch and Judy show which we saw at a fair aroused our ambition, and in two weeks we had manufactured an outfit and ^\ learned the dialogue. For twenty-five cents we would carry our frame to a private house, set up the stage, and give a com- plete performance. We enjoyed a certain dubious popularity and were in some demand for children's parties. On one occa- sion we earned three dollars for two nights at a church fair. The profits of the railroad were nothing to the opulence we attained at this time. We might still be coining money in the Punch and Judy business were it not for the unfortunate " change " which boys' voices undergo. Our dialogues were carried on in a high, squeaky tone, which, when the change of voice be- gan, was unexpectedly varied. We never knew exactly what was coming next from our unreliable vocal chords. Of course this made the show more amusing, but when an audience is interested in accidents rather than in the regular performance it is time to drop the curtain. We closed up the business and let our voices do their worst. OUR BOYS. 103 I cannot describe in detail the other ventures which added to our fame. The ship on wheels was a success until it caused a runaway; the canvas canoe excited universal admiration be- fore it was put into the water, and our homemade fireworks would have astonished the town if they hadn't prematurely as- tonished us by going off in company with our eyebrows the day before the celebration. As an old gardener remarked, "We didn't look nigh so pretty, but we know'd a big sight more." We had been living on our reputation for some time, when we began our masterpiece — the "Festina." This remarkable conveyance was designed to destroy completely a couple of rival inventors and put our own name beyond the reach of calumny, for the boys, forgetting our past record, were in the habit of alluding unnecessarily to our fireworks. The two rivals to whom I have referred had made an open platform carriage, which they propelled by means of a lever connected by a rod with a crank in the rear axle. It was a crude affair, but, as tricycles were then unknown, it was re- garded with wonder and admiration by our former adherents, whom we came near losing. Jack and I went over one afternoon to look at the new invention. We examined it with well-concealed interest, and, it must be confessed, some pangs of jealousy. Our praise was limited. We acted as though just such a thing had occurred to us in our cradles, but we had never thought it worth while to make it. On our way home we re- solved to build a carriage which, as I have said, should annihilate our rivals. We laid our plans secretly, and negotiated a large paternal loan, giving as collateral our somewhat checkered reputation, and enlarging o- 104 OUR BOYS. Upon the satisfaction which a father should feel in having so much genius in his own family. Work was begun in a large attic workshop, and continued for nearly two months. Only a few particular friends were ad- mitted ; the others were kept in a state of constant curiosity, expectation, and admiration by the judicious dropping of fragmentary remarks and suggestive hints. The reader is now invited into the mysterious room, where I shall describe the car as it stood ready to be lowered from the window for its trial trip. The ground plan of the " Festina " shows the arrangement by which the front wheels were permitted to turn freely from side to side. The platform of solid plank was 8 feet long and 2 feet 4 inches broad. A heavy beam projected from the for- ward end, and was pivoted on the front axle. Upon this platform was erected a stout frame, made from the remains of the Punch and Judy stage. On this frame was constructed a curved roof of barrel hoops, and hoods like those of a railroad car projected from each end. The whole frame- work was covered with heavy, black carriage leather, which gave the outside of the car a well-finished but somewhat gloomy appearance. The internal arrangements were as convenient and handsome as we could make them. There were two rooms — the steer- ing, or pilot room forward and the engine room in the rear. These rooms were connected by arched and curtained door- ways with a small central hall, which had two other doors opening outward. The pilot room contained a steering wheel which, by means of ropes passing over pulleys and a drum, perfectly controlled the movements of the front axle. This pilot room was decidedly luxurious. The ceiling was padded with brightly figured cloth, the woodwork painted or covered with handsome strips of wall paper, two chromos decorated the side walls, and a piece of Axminster carpet made a soft cover- ing for the floor. A small window before the steering wheel enabled the pilot to see his way. On each side of the window bookshelves were fitted up, containing a small library of neatly covered volumes. A ventilator in the front of the roof and a OUR BOYS. 105 bell cord connecting with a gong in the engine room completed the fittings of this apartment. The hall woodwork was carefully decorated, and the floor covered with bright oilcloth. A carriage lamp in' one corner, with its polished reflectors and clean glass, was all ready for a night run. The engine room we shall describe later. Out- side, as I have said, the " Fes- tina ' ' was delightfully gloomy. We had painted everything as black as night. Savetwo small windows in the doors, the pilot window already described, and another opening in the rear of the engine room, the sides of the car were unbroken stretches of black. The headlight we made from parts of an old magic lantern. The large lens we set in the front of a box containing a powerful oil lamp. This box, painted black, was fastened on the projecting beam just below the steering window. In the rear a small platform afforded standing room for a boy on duty outside the car. But our pride was in the engine room. We had invented a wonderful motor whjch was to send us spinning along at a brisk pace. In an old junk shop we had seen two cogwheels — one small, the other large. We had an indefinite idea that cogwheels possessed the mysterious power of converting a slight effort into a tremendous force. We bought the wheels with a feeling of awe and carted them secretly to our shop. After much thought and experiment we hit upon what we thought a marvelous idea. The small wheel was fastened firmly to the back axle, and through a hole in the floor the large wheel was let down until the two were in gear. The large wheel was held in a solid frame, and could be turned by handles on each side. Every time this big wheel made a rev- olution its small companion carried the axle and rear wheels 106 OUR BOYS. around four times ! Was ever anything so wonderful known before ? I shall never forget the afternoon when Jack, who was the scientific member of the firm, sat down and began working some problems on a smooth piece of pine. "Let's see," said he; " those rear wheels are 3 feet 6 inches in diameter. Multiply that by 3, that's 10 feet 6; well, add 6 inches to make up for that old decimal I've forgotten — 11 feet. Every revolution she goes 11 feet. You turn her, and see how many revolutions she makes a minute." We put a box under the platform and raised tjie wheels from the floor. Then I got inside and "turned her." The wheels flew around like mad. Jack gave up counting outside and looked in the back window to see the big cog go round. • "As near as I can make it," said he, after a comparison with his watch, "the big cog makes 65 turns a minute. Then the outside drivers must make 4 times that, or 260 turns. Let's see, 260 times 11 feet makes 2,860 feet in a minute. Now there are 5,280 feet in a mile. Whew! " I looked up in surprise at his ejaculation. " What's up?" I asked. " Why, this old caboose is going to make a mile in less than two minutes — ^thirty miles an hour. Just think of that, will you!" It fairly took our breath away. We looked at each other and at the miraculous cogs. For a moment we were frightened at our own genius. Perhaps fellows like us ought to be a little careful about doing the best we knew how. We wanted to outshine those other inventors, but we did not mean to set loose any great unmanageable force. One doesn't break an egg with a locomotive. Our apprehensions soon gave way to exultation. We would put our reputations beyond the reach of fireworks or anything else. We made no definite statements, but intimated to our friends that something eventful might be expected on a certain day which was appointed for the trial trip of the " Festina." About four o'clock on the appointed afternoon a crowd of OUR BOYS. 107 boys collected in our yard to see the ' ' Festina ' ' start on her trial trip. We had carefully lowered our wonderful creation to the ground and had spent half a day in putting everything in perfect running order. The steering gear was tested and the ropes wet to take up all slack, every part of the engine where oil would stand was thoroughly lubricated, the head- light was polished, the pilot room swept and dusted, the hall oilcloth washed — in short the ' ' Festina ' ' was thoroughly ready for her astonishing journey. To say that Jack and I were proxid would be stating the case very mildly. We were so puffed up that it is a wonder we were able to enter the narrow doorways. We walked about with all the importance of railroad magnates, inspecting the car know- ingly and making curt replies to the volleys of questions which assailed us. • The start was announced for 4:30. Promptly at that hour Jack took his place in the engine room, and I sat down, Turk fashion, in front of the steering wheel. The doors were shut and hooked on the inside. The long expected hour of triumph had arrived. In a pur- posely audible tone I said to Jack : " Don't start her too fast. Give her a ten-mile gait to be- gin with, and then let her out when we strike the open country." This remark seemed to cause a sensation among the specta- tors, and our exultation was hardly to be suppressed. With a feeling of mastery I pulled the signal cord and firmly grasped the wheel, to direct our onward rush. For some 108 OUR BOYS. reason we failed to rush ; on the contrary, we did not move an inch. Jack could not have heard the bell, I thought, and I gave the cord a sharp tug. A groaning and creaking in the engine room was the only response. I began to feel nervous. " Jack," I whispered, " why don't you start her? " " She won't budge," came the low answer. " Try her again." Another interval of hard straining and labored breathing was followed by a mournful, '* 'Taint any use, she's stuck fast." I have been in few more embarrassing positions in my life. I was glad to be out of sight at any rate. We were made more miserable still by the -kind encouragements of the spectators. " Don't start her too fast," said one. " Just an easy ten-mile gait at first," added another. " You can let her out, you know, when you strike the open country," was the contribution of a third. Jack and I held a council in the hall. We looked at each other blankly, and wished there were some way of getting into the house without exposing our delicate constitutions to the open air. We certainly were unfortunate. Our fireworks had gone off entirely too soon, and now our car wouldn't go off at all. An oppressive silence reigned within, but without there was a great deal of conversation, in which we noticed a num- ber of remarks we had made a few minutes before. ' ' You fellows better stand back ; you may get hurt when she starts." "Is that engine oiled. Jack?" "Start when I ring once," and other mocking echoes drove us to desper- ation. Our first impulse was to pitch into the whole crowd, but we were inventors enough to see the uselessness of that proceed- ing. Instead we slowly emerged. We were small enough for the doors then, and I made a speech somewhat as follows : "We have decided to postpone the trial trip because my mother doesn't like to have so many boys tramp on the grass. So please go home." I think the logic is not quite sound, but my conclusion was to the point. What Jack and I pined for just then was un- OUR BOYS. 109 disturbed solitude. It was some time before we attained our object. The boys had come for sport, and they helped them- selves bountifully at our expense before they left. An examination of the engine showed us our mistake. We had failed to allow for the friction of the driving wheels when supporting the weight of the car. It was simply impossible to move the " Festina " by the arrangement we had made. A crestfallen pair presented themselves before the owners of the car stock and humbly asked for advice. This was given freely, and was in effect the plan already employed by our rivals — the crank, connecting rod, and lever. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but we were willing to do any- thing which would even partially mend our tattered reputation. In a few days the new machinery was put in and we had another trial, which, I need not say, was strictly private. This attempt was fairly successful, and the long, black carriage rolled in dignified way out of the gate on to the side- walk. It did not require much exertion to move the car, but it must be confessed that she advanced at a most deliberate pace. Still it was something to Jhave a cozy little cabin in which we could ride about, and which was moved and con- trolled from within. For the sake of convenience I have given our car a name which was not bestowed until it had been running some time. We wanted a high-sounding name for our vehicle, and again called upon paternal resources. It was suggested that Festina leiite (hasten slowly) would be an appropriate motto. We did not understand the joke, but adopted the first word, which we painted on the front in yellow letters, and pointed out to our now thoroughly converted friends as real Latin. We had a great deal of fun in our comfortable slow coach. We took other boys Into partnership to complete our crew. One steered, another sat in the hall and helped a third, who was In the engine room, to work the lever back and forth. The fourth boy rode on the rear platform and managed the bridge boards. These boards were carried on the platform. When we came to a corner curbstone — we ran on the side- walks — the outside boy hurried ahead and laid these two boards no OUR BOYS. OUR BOYS. Ill SO as to form an inclined plane, down which we easily rolled. As soon as the car had passed, the boards were picked up and quickly placed against the opposite curb, affording a slope by which we gained the sidewalk again. We became so skilled in handling the boards that we often ran two miles without a halt. We made out a time-table, to which we closely adhered. At a fixed hour we left our yard, and were due at different squares and street crossings at certain times. It was great sport to make up time when we were delayed for any reason, and many an exciting run we made over smooth stretches of asphalt pavement. One place in particular used to attract us. A street curved in a crescent form for some distance, and the privilege of steering " around the crescent " was eagerly sought by every member of the crew. The pleasure of running in the daytime was nothing com- pared with the delight of night trips; besides, our car attracted too much attention by day. Indeed, some unap- preciative people, who ig- nored budding genius, made complaints about us, and talked of appealing to the police. We knew the po- lice very well. He was rather fat, and liked to doze under the bank steps. So it was not so much the fear of him as the additional attractiveness of night running that led us to give up day trips altogether. I wish my readers could have seen the " Festina" at night. Outside all was dark save the small side windows, and the blinding headlamp which lighted the way many feet in front of us. As the car approached one could see nothing but this round bull's-eye light. Within, the hall and engine room were brightly lighted by reflecting lamps. But the pilot room curtains were tightly drawn to exclude all light from that apartment, in order that the pilot might see his way. What fun it was to steer at night ! The sense of forging ahead in the darkness, of controlling the movement of the car, 1 12 OUR BOYS. the thought that the others were depending on him, the care- ful avoiding of well-remembered rough places, the exact striking of the bridge boards at corners — all these things made the pilot's duties most attractive. In cold weather we carried cans of hot water, which made the rooms cozy enough. Now and then we took a supper with us, ran out into the suburbs and had a picnic, all inside our car. The last run of the " Festina " was a memorable one. We were returning from a dining trip about nine o'clock on a pitch dark night. Jack was at the wheel, while Jim and I manned the lever. We had been jogging along at a steady pace, but on reaching the crescent Jack shouted, " Let her flicker " — Jack had a bad habit of using slang. We needed no urging ; the lever flew back and forth under the influence of our combined efforts, and the old "Festina" began to make rapid headway. I could feel the effect of the curve as we rounded the bend. Suddenly I heard an ejaculation from the pilot room, the next moment I took a header over Jim into the hall, the lights went out, and we three were struggling in the dark. "What's the matter. Jack? " I asked as soon as I collected my senses. " Matter? Why we've run a man down ! ' Here was a pretty state of affairs. We dreaded to open the door almost as much as we did the day of the first trial trip. At length we mustered up courage and filed out. The headlight had been extinguished by the jar, but by the light of a neighboring street lamp we saw a man lying on the sidewalk in front of the car. We were on the point of run- ning away, when the prostrate figure partly rose and began nursing his shins, at the same time talking in a thick, uncertain voice which left little doubt as to its owner's condition. From what we could gather, the gentleman, for we recognized in him a prominent city politician, seemed to have the impression that a fierce monster with a terrible eye had bitten off both his legs. We helped our victim to his feet, but as he started to totter away he fell against the side of the car, which he seized for support. The severe pain which his bruised limbs must have OUR BOYS. 113 caused him had a sobering effect, for he examined his assail- ant quite carefully, and used some emphatic language which I have not space to report. At last, much to our relief, he con- tinued on his way, after a few remarks not calculated to lull our apprehensions. We sadly lighted up again, and slowly wended our way home with a conviction that the " Festina's " fate was sealed. Sure enough, next day the policeman called upon our chief stockholder and notified him that a severe penalty would be in- flicted if our wagon again appeared on the streets. So we regretfully raised the car back to the attic, where it still reposes, a reminder of happy days spent in building and running the ill-fated " Festina." HOW TO MAKE A BANJO. I SUPPOSE that among our readers there are a great num- ber who love music. Among the stringed instruments the banjo has become very popular during the last few years, and the reputation it has had of being an instrument mainly for minstrel use has been forgotten. Now, to buy a good banjo we must pay a good price, in fact, too high a price for the average youth to become the possessor of such an instrument. Perhaps some of you think it is a difficult matter to make a banjo, but this is hot so, as I know from personal experience. It is a much more difficult matter to make a violin than a banjo, and if you have ever made a violin I am sure you will succeed with this. I have made a number of banjos, and I am going to tell you how to do it. If you can, borrow a banjo from one A 5 .^^ F of your friends to look at as a model, as it will make it con- siderably easier for you to understand what is meant by the different figures. We will commence with the neck and fin- ger board. Get a sound and straight grained piece of maple 33 inches long, 21 inches wide, and 2i inches thick when planed smooth on all sides. If you cannot get maple a good piece of white pine will do, and will be easier to work, but, if you can get it and are not afraid of a little harder work, I would advise you to use the maple. Take the piece and lay it before you, with the 2^x33 uppermost, and draw the neck upon it, as in Fig. 1. This is the side view of the neck. Make the dimensions as follows: From A to B is 18 inches, A to « is 5 inches, B to iJ" is I inches, (^ to C is 2 inches, ^^i to D is |- inches, D to E is 1 inch, E to F is f inches. The strip G is 10 inches long (for a 10-inch banjo) and 1 inch wide. From A to the peg OUR BOYS. 115 hole, O, is 5^ inches. The thinnest part of the neck is about f of an inch in thickness. Make the drawing accurate and plain. Then saw or cut the surrounding wood away from the pattern. If you have access to a scroll saw in a factory it will take only a few minutes to do this, but as this is not very likely to. be the case you must saw and cut it out by hand. Work just up to the Hues, and do not be in a hurry. When you have cut it out lay it before you with the 2^x33 side up- permost, and proceed to draw the Fig. 2 upon it. This is the upper view of the neck and fingerboard. Make the dimensions as follows : From A to B, the finger board, is 18 inches, from A to (S; is 5 inches, from A to <^ is 5 1^ inches. The strip G is 1 inch wide and 10 inches long. The width at A is If inches, the width at B is 2^ inches. At d it is 1^ inches wide, and then it takes a curve of J inch outward, so that immediately below d it is If inches wide. At B and C it is slightly curved so as to fit the head of the banjo. The upper part of the neck, a, in which the pegs are placed, may be drawn like the figure or the sides may be left straight. Cutting it like the figure looks neater, however, and requires only a little more work. After you have carefully drawn this figure proceed to saw or cut away the outside wood. Now you have the neck in a rough state. Theunder sideof the neck, Fto^, Fig. 1, should be nicely rounded and smoothed. The head, a, should also be rounded and smoothed. If you have a model to look at you will see how the edges are finished. Now take a | or a -y\ inch bit or drill and bore four holes in the head for the pegs to go in. The head, a, has a drop of about 1^ or 1| inches, so that the holes must be bored perpendicular with respect to the head. They are about 1| inches apart, and the lower two are about 21 inches from the upper two. In boring these holes be care- ful not to split the wood. If you are afraid that you will split 116 OUR BOYS. the wood take a ^ inch iron rod and burn the holes through. In burning the holes you must be very careful, however, as it is quite difficult to get them perfectly round, and if they are not round the pegs will not fit accurately. Also bore or burn a hole in the side of the neck at O, Fig. 1, for the short side peg. Having put the finishing touches to the neck with fine sandpaper, so that it is all perfectly smooth, you can stain it. Either a mahogany or an ebony stain is good. For stain- ing the wood a mahogany color brush it two or three times with a strong boiling decoction of logwood chips, and when thoroughly dry put on two coats of brown shellac varnish. Then carefully sandpaper and polish it and put on a final coat of shel- lac varnish. For an imitation ebony stain wash the wood three or four times with a boiling decoction of logwood chips, allowing it A if \iMli> J^- to dry between each application. Then wash it with a solution of acetate of iron, which is made by dissolving iron filings in vinegar. This stain is very black, and penetrates to a con- siderable depth in the wood. The mahogany stain is very nice for the neck and hoop, while the trimmings, such as the pegs, tailpiece, etc., are stained in ebony. After you have the neck stained mark off the frets on the finger board, as shown in Fig. 3. You can get the raised metal frets and put them on, or you can simply mark them on the finger board. Most banjos have marked frets. The distance between the frets is given; the frets, or marks, are themselves y^- of an inch wide. From A, the upper end of the finger board, to the first fret is 1| inches. The distance between the 1st and 2d frets is ly^^- inches ; between 2d and 3d, l-f^', between 3d and 4th, 1-J-; between 4th and 5th, ly^^ ; between 5th and 6th, 1 ; between 6th and 7th, 11- ; between 7th and 8th, |; between 8th and 9th, i|; between 9th and 10th, f ; between 10th and 11th, |-|; between 11th and 12th, f|-; between 12th and 13th, |; between 13th OUR BOYS. 117 and 14th, ^; between 14th and 15th, ^; between 15th and 16th, ^ inch. The position dots are placed between the 4th and 5th, between the 6th and 7th, between the 8th and 9th, and between the 11th and 12th frets. At o a little hole, ^ of an inch in diameter and about ^ of an inch deep, must be drilled in the finger board to receive a short peg of hard wood with a small notch in the upper end for the short "^ ^. string to pass over. This peg must be firmly 3^ /^.--Co-^^ . fj^ 5-. ^ inches wide, and |- inch deep. This must be glued in the hole so that it will not come out. It should pro- ject above the surface about ^ of an inch. To mark the frets use indelible ink or oil paint. Use a color that will show plainly on the stained wood. In marking the frets you must be very accurate about the distances between them ; if you do not get them right the banjo will not be true. Hav- ing the frets all marked, take a piece of maple or other hard wood 14 inches long, xe glued firmly to the neck at the upper part of the finger board at A for the strings to pass over. Cut four small notches in it. Fig. 4 shows it. This finishes the neck. Next we will make the hoop, which is rather a te- dious job. Take a smooth, straight grained strip of maple 36 inches long, 2^ inches wide, and ^ inch thick. Four inches from each end, as shown in Fig 5, plane the ends down to a sharp edge, so that when bent in the form of a hoop, as in Fig. 6, the ends will overlap each other. Having done this, draw a circle 10 inches in diameter on a piece of paper. If you can get the strip steamed in a steam box so much the better, else you must bend it by J^6 " — heat. Take a medium sized goffering iron and place the heater in the fire till it is of a dull red color. Then replace the heater upon the standard. Hold the strip of 118 OUR BOYS. maple on the iron, keeping the upper side of the wood wet with cold water. Keep the wood in motion so that it will not be scorched too much. Occasionally hold the hoop to the circle marked on the paper to see if it has the required curve. When you have it bent to the required form glue the overlapping ends together and clamp them there tightly, and let it dry for about twenty-four hours. Now go to a dealer in musical instruments and buy a calf- skin head to put over the hoop. Get one of 12 inches, which ^ij;!- will make a 10-inch banjo. ■ ^^==:^ _5^'^,-uMA^ J ^j^^ calfskin head will cost r^ about twenty cents. You • can take the skin and tack it over the hoop, using round headed brass tacks and stretching it tightly. But a better plan is to get a strip of brass 34^ inches long, i inch wide, and -^ of an inch in thickness ; f of an inch from each end drill a hole through it and then bend the strip in a per- fectly round circle, or, rather, as nearly perfect as possible ; put a brass rivet through the holes j and rivet the ends firmly to- gether. Take a file and file the ends down, as shown in Fig. 7. Get about six, eight, or ten banjo brackets, which are used to keep the calfskin head stretched tightly over the hoop. Put the calfskin head on the hoop, and over the skin put the brass rim. Fig. 8 shows one of the brack- ets. Hook the hook A over the brass rim, then, at the right distance, drill a hole through the hoop large enough for the screw B to go through, when it can be fastened on the inside of the hoop by the nut C. Put the brackets at equal distances apart. The skin can be tightened by turning up the nut D with a small wrench or a pair of pliers. Now go to work, and f of an inch from the upper edge of the hoop cut a hole 1 inch square for the strip G, Fig. 1, to go through. Do not cut it too large, but just large enough. At the opposite side of the hoop, where the end of the strip G comes, drill a hole through the hoop and into the end of the strip G, making the OUR BOYS. 119 ^.9 hole f of an inch in diameter and about 1 inch deep to receive the end pin, Fig. 9. Glue the end pin firmly in this hole so that it is not liable to be pulled out. Fig. 10 gives a back view of the banjo, showing the strip G running through the hoop. For the pegs take a piece of maple about ^ an inch thick and cut out four like Fig. 11, making the dimensions as follows : From B to C is li inches ; from C to A is 1 inch ; at B it is 1 of an A inch in diameter ; at C it is f of an inch in diameter. Make them as neatly as pos- sible, so that they will fit accurately in yi^. // the holes. Drill a hole about ^l of an inch in diameter through the pegs \ of an inch from the end B, for the strings to pass through. For the side peg make one a ^ inch shorter, as shown by the dotted line, and the hole for the string must be f^C' ~~^ ' \ 7^ ^^.jj^^ about ^ of an inch from C. The bridge, ) \ / I Fig. 12, should be made of maple ^ of an inch in thickness. From A to B is 2 inches. .^*^. 1^ It is f of an inch high, and should be thinned down from ^ of an inch at the bottom to about ^ of an inch at the top. Cut five small notches in the top for the strings to pass through. Next cut the tailpiece. Fig. 13, from a piece of maple, making it 1|- inches wide from A to B, and If inches long from C to D. It should be about -^ o| an inch in thickness. Half an inch from the top drill five holes about ^ of an inch in diameter, for fast- ening the strings in. At the bottom drill two holes, so that it can be fastened to the end pin by means of a piece of catgut or string. 1^ "^3-1^ 120 OUR BOYS. This finishes the banjo, with the exception of the strings, which can now be put on. The bridge should be placed about two inches from the tailpiece. Smooth down any rough or uneven edges or surfaces. If you have a banjo to look at while working it will be a great help, though not absolutely necessary, as by paying close attention to the diagrams and the instructions you can get along very well. Do not be in a hurry, and do everything as well as you possibly can, and I think you will not be disappointed. AN AQUARIUM, AND HOW TO MAKE IT. THE aquarium as now in use, and intended chiefly for fishes,, depends in principle upon the relations existing between animal and vegetable life. It depends particularly upon the consumption by plants, under the action of light, of the car- bonic acid gas given forth by animals, and the consequent res- toration to the air or water in which they live of the oxygen necessary for the maintenance of animal life. The aquarium must, therefore, contain both plants and animals, and in some- thing like a proper proportion. They may thus with due care be kept in health and their habits observed. The water must be frequently aerated, which can be accomplished by taking up portions of it and pouring them in again from a small height. The fresh- water aquarium is frequently provided with a foun- tain, which produces a continual change of water; but even where this is the case the pres- ence both of plants and animals is advan- tageous to the health of both. Goldfishes, sticklebacks, and min- nows have the advan- tage of being more easily kept in good health than many other kinds; and a further recommendation i s Fig. r. ^^&MXi^ AZJut^, found in their small size and in the fine colors of the goldfish. The nests of sticklebacks are a subject of unfailing interest. Some neighboring pond or river will supply you with specimens of both animal and vegetable life. Try to approach nature as closely as possible when stocking your aquarium. 122 OUR BOYS. Fig. 2. We will now proceed to make the tank, or aquarium proper. Get a sound, well-seasoned pine board li inches thick, 30 inches long, and 18 inches wide. Draw lines on the board one inch from the edges and plane it to a bevel, as shown in Fig. 2. Take a one-inch auger and bore a hole at each corner through the board, as shown in the figure. Next make four round rods of pine 1 inch in diameter and 19|- inches long. Cut a groove in each, as in Fig. 3. The dark part is to be cut away for 18 inches, or up to within li inches of one end. The grooves are to hold the glass and cement. Fig. 4 gives a top view of the rods with the glass in place, the dark part be- ing the cement for making the corners water-tight. When you have the board and the four rods ready put the rods in the holes with glue, having the grooves all on the inside. Then get two panes of glass, double thickness, each 18x261 inches, and >H Fig. 3. Fig. 4- two panes each 18xl4|- inches. Put the glasses in the grooves and fasten them with a cement made as follows : Take litharge, 1 gill ; fine white dry sand, 1 gill ; plaster of Paris, 1 gill; finely pulverized resin, 4- gill. Mix thoroughly and make into a paste with boiled linseed oil to which dryer has been added. Beat it well, and let it stand four or five hours before using it. After it has stood fifteen hours, however, it loses its strength. Glass cemented into a frame with this cement is good for either salt or fresh water. Fig. 5 shows the glass cemented in the grooves ; the glass not coming quite together, the cement must be thoroughly worked in, as shown in the figure. By filling the spaces thoroughly the cement keeps the glass tightly in place. Next give the bottom of the aquarium a good heavy layer of fig. 5. OUR BOYS. 123 the cement, being sure to work it close up to the lower edges of the glass. When you have it all cemented let it dry for about twenty- four hours. While it is drying you can make the rails for putting on the top edges of the glass. Make four round rods of pine, one inch in diameter, and on each end cut away the wood for one inch in length and half an inch in thickness, as shown in Fig. 6. The dotted Hnes are the up- right rods. Make two of the rods each 28 inches long, and two each 16 inches long. Also cut a groove in these rods just like those in the upright posts, l- ^ — — pq Fig. 7 shows the way the rods or j : rails are to be put on the top edges ; i of the glass, the glass lying in the ; i grooves. At the corners, where Fig. 6. the rails meet, miter them as shown in Fig. 8, and tack each firmly to the upright post with a wire nail, or put in a thin screw. Round off the corners of the rails to correspond with the upright posts. Next take a strip of pine about half an inch square and plane it down to a triangular molding, as in Fig. 9. Cut two pieces each 27 inches long, and two pieces Q Q each 15 inches long. Fit these pieces between the upright posts, and, with fine wire nails, fasten them to the bottom board against the glass. This braces the glass at the bottom so that the pres- sure of the water will not burst it out. Go over all the woodwork and care- You can Fig. 7, This finishes the tank fully sandpaper it and smooth all rough edges now stain the wood any color you wish and give it a coat of varnish. To make a fountain in the aquarium bore a half-inch hole through the center of the bot- tom in which to insert a half-inch iron tube about 19 inches long ; and having a thread cut on the inside of the lower end, to which you can screw a hose connecting it with the reser- voir. Bore another half-inch hole Fig. 8. an inch from the center one, and insert a half-inch iron tube 124 OUR BOYS. 16 inches long and also having a thread cut on the inside of the lower end. This is the waste pipe, and the upper end should come to within about three and a half inches of the top of the tank, so that the water cannot rise higher than the top of this tube. A piece of hose or tubing must be screwed to the bottom of this tube to carry away the waste water. The center, or fountain, tube should have a stopcock near the up- per end, so that you can shut off and start the fountain at pleasure. Fig. 1 shows the aquarium with the fountain and waste pipe. The keg is the reservoir, and should be placed at least six feet higher than the top of the tank. A The fountain and waste pipes must be put in before you put the cement on the bottom, and the ce- FiG. 9. -^ ^ , . , , , 1 , ment must be put tightly around the tubes, so that there can be no leakage. If possible arrange it so that the pipes pass underneath the floor into another room where you have the keg or reservoir. Be sure to have the keg standing on a strong shelf or other support, so that it is not liable to come down. Such an aquarium can be constructed quite cheaply, at least much more cheaply than one of the same size would cost in a store. You may make it smaller or larger, but one of this size will be the best for an ordinary aquarium. Put in a couple of inches of lake or river sand cleansed of its impurities, some rock work, arranged so that the fishes can hide, and some pebbles. Do not overstock the aquarium. Dead animals or decaying vegetable matter should be removed at once. Keep it in a cool place, not too near natural or ar- tificial heat, and avoid all sudden changes of temperature. From such an aquarium as I have described I have derived much pleasure and profit by observing the wonderful habits and growth of aquatic animal and vegetable life. HOW TO GROW A MINIATURE OAK TREE IN A BOTTLE. Fig. I. HAVE you not often admired the stately oak tree? I will tell you, then, how you can grow a very interesting miniature oak in your window. In the autumn you can find beneath some oak multitudes of ripe acorns that have fallen amid the de- caying leaves. Select one that is large and well grown, and by means of a very stout needle run a strong thread through it so that the acorn will hang with the pointed end straight downward. Take a short, wide-mouthed bottle and suspend the acorn in it, placing the two ends of the thread over the opposite sides of the neck and fastening them by wrapping a few turns of fine thread or string around the neck of the bottle and then knotting it securely. Then pull upon the ends of the thread that runs through the acorn until it hangs fairly with the point downward in the center of the bottle. Now pour water in the bottle until it just touches the point of the acorn, but no more. Fig. 1 shows it. Cut a small piece of card, turn down the edges, and lay it over the mouth of the bottle. Now set the bottle and acorn in the window or on a bracket, and in a few days more or less, depending upon the warmth of the room, the shell will open at the point, and a long white root will grow downward into the water. This root will go on elongating for weeks. In a state of nature this would become the Fig. 2. 126 • OUR BOYS. tap root of the oak, but as it cannot escape from its glass prison it goes on coiling itself round and round the inner side of the glass until a foot or more is crowded in the bottle and small roots grow from its sides. In a short time the upper covering of the acorn will split and a little green stem will force its way out, bearing delicate little leaves of the brightest green. The stem and leaves will grow with vigor, and an opening must be made in the card covering to allow the little oak to grow out in the open air. Fig. 2 shows the tree. This may all seem to be merely child's sport, but I assure you it will prove interesting for the older people as well. HOW TO SIT A HORSE. ANY of our readers are horsemen, and many more hope to be. The former will read these instructions to see if the writer knows anything about riding ; the latter will regard it, perhaps, as a first lesson. As the body must always be in a situation to preserve both seat and balance, we shall endeavor to make our instructions upon these heads as explicit as possible. For a firm, correct seat the thighs, turned inward, should rest flat upon the sides of the saddle without grasping, as the weight of the rider will give sufficient hold without such adventitious aid, which, in fact, only lifts the rider out of his saddle; the thighs, however, must be kept so firm that they will not roll or move so as to disturb the horse or loosen the rider's seat; but if the horse should hesitate to advance they may then be slightly relaxed. The knees must be kept back, and stretched down so as to throw the thighs somewhat out of the perpendicular, but no hold or grip should be taken with them unless the rider has lost all other means of holding on ; if the thighs are in their proper position in the saddle, the legs and arms will be turned as they should be — that is, they will be in a line parallel with 128 OUR BOYS. the rider's body, close to the horse's side, but without touch- ing ; they may, however, sometimes give an additional aid to the seat by a grasp with the calves, and also assist the hands In like manner ; the toes should be raised, and the heels de- pressed and kept from galling the horse's side. The body should be held quite erect, and the shoulders kept square and thrown back, the chest advanced, and the small of the back bent rather forward. The upper part of the arms must hang perpendicular from the shoulders, close to the hips, and be kept steady without rigidity, else they destroy the hand. The hands should be held with the wrists rounded a little outward, about four or five inches apart, in front of the body, the thumbs and knuckles pointing toward each other, and the fin- ger nails to the body. HINTS ABOUT SWIMMING. WHEN a person becomes a good swimmer he does not need to trouble himself about rules, and gradually dis- penses with them. But a learner finds himself much helped by a few simple rules which are easily carried in the head and easily applied. The following are given for this purpose : 1. Slow and steady. 2. Back of head on shoulders. 3. Spine well hollowed. 4. Breathe between strokes. The reason of this last injunction is that a beginner is apt to draw his breath just when he strikes out. Whenever he does so he is tolerably certain to get his mouth full of the water which ripples against the chest and the chin, and then to choke himself, and then to collapse and sink. . Therefore it should always be a rule that, as the legs strike, the lungs should expire the air that is in them, and so drive away the water that might find entrance. Few things disconcert a learner more than getting his mouth full of water, more especially if the water be salt. But if, in addition, he happens to be drawing a breath at the same time he is sure to be sadly affected with a choking cough for some time afterward. However, a slow and deliberate manner of swimming soon gets the better of these little difficulties. While lying on the back rapidly beat the water by alternate blows of the feet, taking care to keep them well pointed. If this is properly done the swimmer drives up a shower of spray like that from the paddle wheels of a steamboat, and at the same time propels himself through the water at some speed. We have known several swimmers who could race for a short distance in this manner a*hd beat one who swam in the ordi- nary fashion. It is always better to prepare for emergencies by prac- ticing them beforehand. Every swimmer should learn to swim easily while one arm is held entirely out of the water, or even when they are both held aloft. It would be well to keep an old heavy suit of clothes, consisting, say, of a great pea-jacket and thick woolen trousers. Accoutered in this paraphernalia !30 OUR BOYS. accustom yourselves to jump into the water and to swim for some time, in spite of the heavy, dragging weight. Also, to dive after heavy weights, and bring them ashore. Also, to swim across the river with a boy sitting jockey fashion on your backs. Also, to practice the rescue of a struggling person. In this case the object of the one party should be to enact as accurately as possible the role of a drowning man and to drag under water the rescuer, while that of the other should be to catch the drowning man and get him to shore.. Many similiar exercises will suggest themselves to the bather as he improves in swimming. TO THE RESCUE. TO MAMMOTH CAVE ON A BICYCLE. N a reading book used in the public schools of Illinois was a charac- ter sketch in which reference was made by way of comparison to Mam- moth Cave. A footnote gave a short description of the cavern. When I read of that wonder I resolved that if I ever got old enough and big enough (which then seemed very doubtful) I would venture to explore it. In April last, having a bicycle and a vacation, and thinking that my size would justify the venture, I determined to carry out my youthful resolution and see the cave. Not being able to find company I resolved to go alone; strapped a small bundle over the handle bars, and, with the league handbook of Kentucky in my pocket, started from Cincinnati on my bicycle. A delegation from the Kenton Wheel Club piloted me by the best streets to the Lexington pike. The Chief Consul of the Kentucky Division of L. A. W. had given me some Information about the roads, and had written to league officers along the way that I was coming. The road to Florence leaves Covington with a steep hill two miles long, but "walking was good," and consoling myself with the thought that if the road always led up I would walk into heaven, and If It did not there would be good coasting, I trudged on. At the top of the hill the pleasure of the trip be- gan as we — my wheel and I — flew down the gentle slopes, up easy grades, past fine-looking farmhouses, green fields, and blossoming trees. The roadbed of the famous old Lexington pike is good, though not kept In as fine repair as formerly, and the hills are not troublesome as far as Wllllamstown. But from Wllllamstown to Sadieville the road resembles hills 132 OUR BOYS. that children draw; for every elevation there is a depression with a frequency and regularity that is disheartening. I spent one whole afternoon in going twelve miles. From Sadieville to Georgetown we skimmed over smooth roadbed, down long slopes at an exhilarating rate ; and from there on to Lexing- ton, in the heart of the blue grass region — called blue not be- cause the grass is any other color than green, but because it is so beautiful that the namers did not think green a good enough adjective ; showing that blue is a popular color. ' RllSSB-LSHiCHftRDSOM The most beautiful and extensive tracts of farming lands east of the Rocky Mountains, I think, are the prairies of Iowa and the blue grass regions of Kentucky. Their rolling surface and beautiful color make them justly renowned. It is not sur- prising that fine horses flourish in such a country as is found around Lexington. Soil, grass, air seem to have been made for only the finest animals. Sunday spent in Lexington, resting and attending church (notwithstanding knickerbockers), made us fresh for a hard ride Monday ovei dusty roads against a strong south wind. OUR BOYS. 133 At Nicholasville we turned to the right and took Shakertown pike to see the famous High Bridge. This bridge over the Kentucky River is picturesque, with its stone pillars forming portals at either end, its great height above the water, with the precipitous banks extending straight to the water's edge, and the green river winding silently below. It was for a time the highest bridge in the world. There are now many others I think, that are higher. While crossing the river below the bridge in a skifE a heavy rain began. If I had swum the river I would not have been wetter than I was in a few minutes. The nearest house was one where strangers are entertained, in the village of Pleasant Hill. This village consists of about one hundred and twenty Shakers, who live in two large brick gable-roof houses. While I was drying out before a stove one of the Shakers told me the history of the community, and explained their beHef in celibacy, virgin purity, and community of property. The men live in one side of the house, the women in the other; the farm supports them in summer, mats and basket work in winter. They seem to lead pleasant and peaceful lives. One of the sisters said that in twenty years there would be no Shakers. Next morning thirteen miles to Danville, a pleasant college town, was quickly made over dustless roads. There I per- suaded the league consul in that place to accompany me, and the next morning we fairly flew over almost perfect roads, but in the afternoon we struck road that was nothing but creek bottom, and night caught us eight miles from New Haven, in the country of the knobs — no farmhouses to stop at, no light with which to ride. A turn in the road brought us in sight of Gethsemane Abbey, a large, beautiful building about which we had heard along the way. It was suggested that we stop for the night. I objected be- cause we could get nothing to eat at an abbey, and no one is as anxious for something to eat as a man who has been riding a bicycle all day. But there was not much choice between walking eight miles up and down hill with an empty stomach and taking one's chance of a meal at a monastery; so we 134 OUR BOYS. dismounted and walked up a long avenue between tall English elms till we came to a small door in a stone wall where sat a doorkeeper. After hearing our errand the doorkeeper called within, and a closely shaven monk, with a bunch of keys jingling at the cord which confined his long loose brown gown in truly mediaeval monastic style, came, and led us through a small yard to a brick building. Supper was put on the table for us. When the monk withdrew, leaving us to eat, we saw for supper nothing but brown bread, dried apples, and something that tasted like flour and beans baked, we began to growl and de- clare that we would not stay there over night. Then we began to wonder whether, if we should use the plan Richard OUR BOYS. 135 Coeur de Lion used with the hermit, it would have as good effect. But as we had not brought our lances, and as we had no armor to speak of, except our shirts and knickerbockers, we concluded to accept what was set before us. After we had hung around the table a while and our attendant had returned, we got to talking about convents and bicycles. We offered to teach the monk to ride a wheel, but he sadly shook his shaven head. When we considered his " Mother Hubbard " we thought him wise for shaking his head. The abbey, he said, is the only one the French Trappists have in America. Fifty thousand dollars was collected in Europe for building a monastery in America, but the money was stolen. Again, in '48, enough money was raised, and the buildings erected on a fine piece of farming land. The twenty- eight inmates busy themselves farming and doing such penance as sleeping on beds that are too short, rising at ghostly hours, fasting, etc. A bell rang. Our monk invited us to vespers. We fol- lowed through a smaller chapel, up a steep, narrow, dark pair of winding stairs, to the gallery of a large room built in the form of a Greek cross. The church is a fine Gothic structure, with a good deal of impressiveness and showing architectural skill. After service we were shown to our rooms, where there were neat iron couches that looked very inviting. About four o'clock we bade good-bye to the abbey and rode to New Haven for breakfast. The bridge over Rolling Fork was washed away, but, strap- ping our clothes on handle bars, we waded. After hanging ourselves out to dry, we started up a hill famous in that part of. the country for its steep two and a half miles. That night, having traveled about forty miles over sand hills and mud roads, we reached Hammondsville, a village buried with hills. A pouring rain the next morning made the clay so sticky that after every few steps we had to stop and dig the mud out of the forks, or the wheels would not budge. But learning that there was a ' * good pike ' ' six miles this side of Munf ordville -^where Bragg captured a Federal division in 1862 — we pressed 136 OUR BOYS. on. We found marks of the war, but the "pike" proved to be a road made with twelve-inch bowlders not covered with dirt. Arrived at Cave City that night, my cyclometer reg- istered two hundred and fifty-three miles from Cincinnati ; had done some extra riding and been at it six days. Considering the roads, forty miles was not a small day's work. We had pushed our wheels where such machines had never been be- fore, and where wise men, knowing the condition of the roads, will not venture. Wheelmen will find it pleasant to wheel to New Haven, and from there to take the train. Karl Kron advises to stop at Louisville, but the roads are now good to New Haven. The effect of our wheels on some of the people who had never seen a bicycle before was amusing. Sometimes while riding along we would hear men who were at work away over in some fields begin to yell like wild men. Three darkies were walking down the middle of the road. I rang my bell. After their surprise was over one shouted, '* You ring dat bell for me to git out ob de road ? Choo ! choo ! choo ! young engine ! Ho! ho ! " and you could have heard them laugh for a mile. A negro explained to the crowd that the wheels were called "icicles," and a woman called her " old man" to "see dem fellars on flyin' skeeters." Whenever we stopped the crowd would gather and always ask the same questions. These are the answers in regular order (when we travel next we will have handbills with the answers numbered and printed on them) : 1. A bicycle. 2. $142.50. 3. That is rubber; the other parts are metal. 4. From fifty to one hundred miles per day on good roads. 5. Rather tired. 6. That is a cyclometer. 7. Mammoth Cave. 8. Cincinnati. Everyone wanted us to " get on and ride," no matter what the road was. They thought we could ride anywhere. In answer to the question we told a man that we could ride over five-bar fences, through water up to our necks, up the scraggy side of a mountain. When we saw that there was danger of the man believing we had to tell him that we were reading Munchausen to him. OUR BOYS. 137 Mammoth Cave is long. One is impressed with that fact before he has wandered over all of its one hundred and fifty miles of avenues. "Mammoth Dome" is impressive. The river and blind fish are attractions. But the cave has no beauty. The copper mines of Lake Superior region and the silver mines of Colorado are beautiful. The impressiveness of the cave is partly spoiled by the jabber of the guide as he calls the different parts by stale and misapplied mythological names. SKATING WHEN I was a boy (which, let me add, was a good deal less than half a century ago) the first skate meant a good deal of trouble. Nothing better than strap skates were known then, and even after those provoking straps, with their marvelous abilities for getting out of sight, had been found at last, and fitted to their places, the work was hardly half over. Holes had to be carefully bored in the center of the heels, and when sometimes, as a bright expedient, these holes were pre- pared at home, instead of at the margin of the pond, they were CURVES OF THE "DUTCH ROLL." sure to get filled up on the way with horrid little pebbles which . had to be painfully picked out again. And it was such a cold piece of work, first screwing on the skates, then fitting the straps, then buckling them up tight. Indeed many a time one would become so chilled before getting fairly started that it would take ten minutes' hard skating to warm up again. But, as the French say, the game was well worth the candle, and skimming along over the smooth ice, shouting for joy, or vying with one another in the noisy game of chase, the bother of get- ting ready was soon forgotten and the darkness came all too soon to warn us that skates must be unstrapped and the face turned homeward. Nowadays going a-skating means no trouble at all. No holes to bore, no straps to buckle, no numbed fingers, but just OUR BOYS. 139 two light, graceful affairs of shining steel, which you fit to your feet and, pressing a spring — hey, presto ! click — your skates are on, and you are ofE for your afternoon's fun. Well, now that you have your skates so easily and securely fastened, what can you do on them? Can you swing grace- fully to and fro on the curves of the " Dutch roll," making marks along the ice like those in the figure, one foot crossing well over the other at each stroke, and the curves being as true as though your legs were compasses? Can you turn and do this backward as well as forward? Can you twine your feet in and out through the mazy evolutions of the grape- vine? -> ^^ .^^^^ If you cannot do the Dutch roll you have not mastered the first step in fancy skating, and you must practice away, think- ing light of tumbles, and having no fear of being laughed at, until, as an expert in Dutch rolling, you have crossed the pons asinorum of skating. Time and time again have I been asked by beginners, " What shall I learn first? " and my unvarying reply has been, "The Dutch roll." Master of it, you hold the key to all the rest, even the giant swing — one of the most difficult of " didos " — being in the main a complicated vari- ation of this step. It is, of course, impossible either by diagrams or descriptions to give a clear idea of the thousand and one feats which may be performed on skates. There are books, to be sure, which pretend to make skating easy, just as there are manuals which undertake to teach you French in a month, or music in a quarter ; but the only good instructor is somebody who knows all about it himself, and who has patience and kindness enough to take the trouble of teaching you. There is no royal road to skating, nor short cut either. To be expert you must serve an apprenticeship of many winters, putting in plenty of hard work, and putting up with numberless 140 OUR BOYS. hard knocks, for even after you have thoroughly mastered plain skating, both forward and backward, and overcome the difficulties of the Dutch roll and grapevine, every new ac- complishment will certainly cost you three good tumbles at the least. The number of different steps and figures that may be executed on the ice is limited only by the ingenuity and skill of the skater. There are, of course, certain well-defined figures from which a program is made up for competitions in fancy skating, but the contestants, as a rule, do all of these EXPLANATION. R. Right foot. L. Left foot. I. Inside edge. O. Outside edge, F. Forward. B. Backward. more or less easily. It is when they come to the " extras," that is, the inventions of their own fancy, that the struggle really begins and the excitement reaches its height. Of all trials of strength and skill in which men engage, nothing could be prettier or more interesting than a skating competition. With a crowd of enthusiastic spectators, a good long program of races, " didos," and "extras," and full lists of competitors of both sexes, there is enjoyment to be had of the healthiest, heartiest, and purest kind. The really marvel- ous ease with which most difficult and even dangerous feats can be executed, the smoothness and rapidity of the skaters* move- ments, the geometrical accuracy of the circles, curves, and straight lines cut upon the ice by their skillful feet, fill the beholder with wonder and delight. OUR BOYS. 141 Combined figure skating, that is, the execution of certain well-defined figures by two or more skaters acting in harmony, is a very delightful amusement. Of course, only good skaters can take part, but when four well-matched partners, two of each sex, are thus engaged, doing some complicated figure of interlacing curves, the result afEords a fine illustration of the poetry of motion. BASEBALL. BASEBALL originated in the English schoolboy game of "rounders," but it has been so improved and so generally played as to merit its name of ' ' the national game of Amer- ica." It is a game in which 18 take part. The field should be perfectly level, and at least 350 feet wide by 500 long. There are 4 bases 90 feet apart, forming a perfect square, which is called the " diamond." The home base or starting point is at right angles with the first and third bases, with the second base on a straight line from the home base, and ex- actly 127 feet 4 inches distant, as is the first from the third base. The pitcher is placed in a square space of ground, marked of£ for him with lines, just 50 feet away from the home plate, and on a straight imaginary line with the home and second bases. The catcher, when there are none of the 2ND BASE. H0IVIE<>PLATE. BATSMAN. CATCHER. DIAGRAM OF A BASEBALL "DIAMOND. opposing players on the bases, stands back from 75 to 80 feet in the rear of the home base, and receives the ball on the bound ; but on other occasions he comes up close to the bats- man, places a wire mask over his face, and straps an air pad OUR BOYS. . 143 over his chest and stomach, to guard against injuries. A player is stationed at each one of the three bases, and desig- nated as first, second, and third basemen. There is another, known as the shortstop, stationed midway between second and third bases, while the three men in the outfield are called the right, center, and left fielders. Chalk lines are drawn from the home base to first and third respectively, and ex- tended to the boundaries of the field, or to a point where a flag is stationed, and known as the foul flag. All balls hit within these lines are fair, and those which are not are foul. The umpire is the sole judge on all questions during the prog- ress of a game. A ball that strikes fair ground in the infield and rolls into foul ground before it reaches first or third base is foul ; and if it strikes foul ground and rolls into fair ground before reaching either first or third bases, as the case may be, it is fair. All fair or foul balls caught on the fly are out, and when three men are out all are out. The game consists of nine full innings, unless the side last at bat has made more runs at the conclusion of the eighth inning than the opposing side scored at the end of their ninth. Besides putting the side out on fly-ball catches, they are also put out at first base on balls thrown to that point by any of the in or out fielders before the batsman, who becomes a base-runner the moment he hits the ball, reaches that point. They can also be put out before they reach the other three bases. THE BATTLE OF BOONETOWN. jHE village of Boonetown is a big place in its own estimation. It has a church, a post office run on strictly nonpartisan principles — ^the postmistress reading all postal cards impartially ; a pub- lic meeting room for the relief of windy citizens ; a brass band, gorgeously arrayed in blue and gold; a policeman and a base- ball club. It has" likewise a rival in the neighboring town of Grey- stone. It, too, has a baseball club. The character cor- rectly expresses the rival clubs' opinions of each other's ability. You can readily imagine the excitement in the two villages when the rival clubs resolved to cross bats for the championship. The game was played at Boonetown on a glorious afternoon in early October, when the leaves of the maples were just be- ginning to turn under the touch of the first frosts. A cool breeze blew down the field, which was still as fresh and green as in June. Before three o'clock the meadow lot was crowded with every man, woman, and child of the rival villages. Every tree bore its crop of small boys, who, like ripe fruit, now and then tumbled to the ground. To quote the words of the en- thusiastic local newspaper, ' ' the emerald diamond was sur- rounded by an eager ocean of faces." But hark ! the sound of music. Every neck cranes forward. Then burst upon their admiring gaze the splendor of the Boonetown band, marching proudly into the field with the sunlight sparkling along its brass instruments. But O the mighty shout that broke forth as the rival nines, marching three abreast, with bats at shoulder arms, entered the field ! OUR BOYS. US- All the pent-up patriotism and enthusiasm of the crowd was in that wild halloa. Over and over it went up, each time swelling in volume till the small boy hugged his branch with terror lest he be shaken from it by the thunder of sound. But now comes the momentous " flipping of the copper," and a hush of expectation falls upon the field. Even the band forgets to blare in the supreme anxiety of that moment. But it makes up for lost time by the barbaric burst of brazen music which greets the announcement that the Boonetowners have won the toss and are to take " the field." It would have done your heart good to see Johnny Gray, the grocer's son, take his place behind the bat. He wore a mask that made him look as though some evilly disposed per- son had strapped across his face one of the wire screens with which his father protected his apple barrel from the fingers of the pilfering small boy. But he was totally eclipsed when Jakey Riggs advanced to the plate with the blase air of a " League " pitcher. Balancing the ball gingerly on the tips of his fingers, he whirled halfway round and sent it in like a streak of lightning at the man at the bat. A yell of wild joy broke from Greystone's throat as a sky scraper went sailing out to center field. But it died away in a groan as the center fielder, cool and calm, gathered the ball to his bosom as lov- ingly as if it were a baby. The next two men went out on strikes, and the Greys sought the field with a decidedly white- washed look upon their once glowing faces. Johnny Gray was the first to face the twists of the famous Greystone pitcher. He picked up a bat to inspiriting cries of "Sock it to 'em, Johnny! " " Knock the leather off it ! " But he bit the dust ignobly when one of the famous curved balls went straight to the center of his anatomy. He was finally unraveled and given his first base, but was put out while trying to steal second, which catastrophe he ascribed to the condition of his " in'ards." The next two men retired, one on a foul tip, the other on a fly catch, leaving the score to at the end of the first inning. And so the battle raged, and the end of the eighth inning found both sides without a run. 10 146 OUR BOYS. The ninth inning opened amid profound silence. Even the band forgot to blow, so intense was the interest. Greystone marched up to the plate with blood in its eye, but, after the manner of the noble Duke of York with his three thousand men, marched valiantly back again. The strikers went out in one-two-three order, and darkness settled upon the spirits of Greystone. Not so Boonetown. Every eye was bright with hope, every pulse throbbed with expectation. Jimmy Dalton was the first to toe the line. Jimmy was the telegraph operator, but for this particular day the telegraph was permitted to click un- heeded while he upheld the honor of his native town. He stepped to the plate amid a perfect storm of adjurations to go in for all he was worth. Carelessly he picked up a bat, care- lessly he glanced along it, weighed it, spat on his hands, and called for a waist ball. He got it, and a daisy cutter went humming between first and second bases. Shortstop and sec- ond both started for it, and so intent were they on the ball that neither saw the other. The result was a collision, while the ball rolled peacefully down the field. Jimmy flew round the bases amid a perfect cyclone of catcalls, cheers, and hisses. He reached third base. The crowd yelled for him to run home. He hesitated, drew a long breath, and started. So did the ball, and both arrived at about the same instant. Im- mediately the whole field was in an uproar. Loud cries of "Decision!" "Umpire!" "Judgment!" were heard on every hand. The poor umpire was a picture of misery and despair. Angry faces surrounded him on all sides. The Greys came in from the field and stood threateningly on one side of him. The Boonetowners, equally fierce and deter- mined, completed the circle. Before, behind, everywhere surged the angry crowd, heedless of the efforts of the one- eyed policeman to preserve the peace. It was a critical mo- ment. The umpire, a Boonetown man, looked appealingly, deprecatingly at Greystone, and decided " Not out." Would that I could paint the scene that followed ! Par- rhasius, when he wished for power to paint a dying groan, had never heard the groan of a baseball crowd, or he would have OUR BOYS. 147 died in his despair. Women shrieked, children screamed, and angry men shook their fists in each other's faces. But the umpire stood firm ; and, being backed up by the club of the solitary policeman, Greystone's captain drew his men together in gloomy silence, and, followed by their entire village, they marched with great dignity from the field. It was the " wee sma' hours " of the night before Boone- town settled down to its accustomed quiet. But the story of the battle still lives, and should you chance to spend a winter's night in that triumphant city you will doubtless hear from an eyewitness the story of Jimmy Dalton's famous run which decided the battle of Boonetown. FOOTBALL. FOOTBALL is a game in which alarge light ball of leather or ox bladder, filled with air, is kicked around a field. It may be played by any even number of persons divided into two sides . A large level piece of ground or lawn is marked off with goal lines at each end, and the game is played in the intervening B p p A 1 1 A B T : X o T : F ^« F X0 c F '• F T T B A i i A P P B Plan of the Football Field. AA, goal lines ; PP, goal posts; P, field of play ; C, center of play; TT, lines of touch ; B, touch in goal (for Rugby union game). 1, 1, rushers ; 2, 2, quarter backs ; 3, 3, half backs ; 4, i, full backs. space by each side of players endeavoring to kick the ball to the goal of their opponents and to keep it from their own goal. In all games of football the object is to drive the ball toward the opponent's goal and score a " goal." The ground from OUR BOYS. 149 goal to goal should not be less than 100 yards in length, nor more than 200 yards. Its width from touch line to touch line should vary from 50 to 100 yards, according to length. The lines of touch are marked out by four flags for each line. The goal is formed of two upright posts, the aim being to drive the ball between the posts. Two side lines, called goal lines, are drawn from each of the goals, and the boundary of the ground on each side is marked by a line called touch line. The opposing players take position opposite each other at dif- ferent ends of the field. The game is decided by the number of goals won in a certain time, which is divided into equal parts, after each of which the players change ends. A goal may be won by a drop kick (letting the ball fall from the hands and kicking it the instant it rises) over the adversary's goal, or by a place kick resulting from a totichdown (putting the hand upon the ball to make it dead) or fair catch (a catch direct from a kick, or a throw forward, or a knock on, by the opposite side) . The touch down is as follows : Any player who catches the ball before it has touched ground, or on the bound, may run with it till he gets behind the ad- versary's line of goal, where he will touch it down as near as he can to the goal, if possible between the posts. This is called running in, and secures the right of a place kick at the goal, from any spot, outside the goal line in a straight line from where the touchdown was made. When the ball is touched down behind the goal line, but not near the goal, a different mode, called the punt out, is adopted. When the ball crosses the touch line at the side of the field it is lifted and thrown out in a straight line, to be secured by either side. Holding or carrying the ball is prohibited, and no one is allowed to use his hands except the goal keepers, to pro- tect the goal. CAPTAIN BESS, OR, HOW THE FOOTBALL GAME WAS WON. i^::^if^ DON'T see how we can ever beat them, Cliff. They have a college fellow for center rusher, and he'll teach them tricks that we country boys never heard of. We can run and kick and pass well enough, but we lack science." In this despondent mood spoke Jack Hornby, captain and ' * quarter back ' ' of the Rugby football eleven of the Elston High School. His hearers were his fellow-players, Will Thorpe, Tom Green, and Cliff Alden. The four boys had gathered in Mrs. Horn- by's sitting room after school to talk over the coming game with the Pittsfield eleven. There was a sharp business rivalry between the two towns, and the boys who battled twice a year — at baseball in June, at football in November — felt themselves knightly defenders of the honor of their respective villages. Last June Jack Hornby at shortstop had broken a finger in a vain attempt to stop the hot liner which had brought in the winning run for Pittsfield in the last half of the tenth inning, and all summer that crooked finger beckoned him on to the time when a football victory should wipe out the tormenting memory. There were only ten days now before the game, but reports from the enemy's camp were startling. Jack himself had begun to doubt. " No," admitted Cliff Alden, " the prospect isn't brilliant; but don't you think we can get up a scheme that'll fool even a college freshman? — for that's all this wonderful Potter is. I saw him at Kennebunk last summer. He isn't any bigger or stronger than you, Will, and can't play baseball half as OUR BOYS. 151 well. They've got him just to frighten us, but I won't be scared by a 'freshy.' Where's that book of rules, Tom? Now rack your brains, boys. We must beat them, and that's all there is to it." For ten minutes the boys talked and argued, drew diagrams of the field, and concocted stratagems for outwitting their foe. Bess Hornby, Jack's pretty sister, found them so busily oc- cupied that they did not notice her entrance. And what if they had ! A girl at such a time is only a bother. It was well known that Jack, the quarter back, could outrun any boy in Pittsfield. If he had the ball and a fair field nobody could catch him. Tom Green at half back could be trusted to kick the goals if the touchdowns were forthcoming ; Will Thorpe was strong and vigorous — as he needed to be to fill his position at center rush, opposite the dreaded freshman. By his side in the rush line was ClifE Alden, active and muscular. These four were the strength of the Elston eleven, and when they began to despair of victory the case was indeed desperate. Bess, ever loyal to Elston and devoted to her brother, heard their conversation, and, seeing their perplexity, generously offered her word of advice. "O, Cliff," she said, breaking into the discussion, "Will always rolls the ball back to Jack when you stand in line, and he throws it to somebody else. Now, why don't you have my brother run with it sometimes? He — " But she had said enough. "Nonsense, Bess. You don't know anything about foot- ball," said Captain Jack. " I thought even a girl knew that the quarter back can't run with the ball," said Will, with withering scorn. "Why can't he?" inquired the girl, who was accustomed to such outbursts from her brother and his friends, and did not shrivel perceptibly before their sarcasm. " Because the rules say he can't," said Will, conclusively, fortifying himself by reading : "Rule 29. — The man who first receives the ball when snapped back . . . shall not carry the ball forward under any circumstances whatever." 152 OUR BOYS. " There, Captain Bess," said ClifE, " we are pretty hard up for ideas, but we're not so far gone that we can learn any- thing from a girl." " Don't you see, Bessie," explained Tom Green, "that the rule forbids Jack to run with the ball ? ' ' "No, I don't see it at all," returned Bess. "But I see something else. The rule says that the one who first receives the ball can't run with it. Why can't Cliff just touch the ball and then pass it to Jack? " " Why not, fellows? " cried Cliff. "He can! he can! " shouted Will. "Where's that ball? Line up, fellows; let's try it." The ball was brought out, and there, on Mrs. Hornby's carpet, the maneuver was tried under the proud supervision of " Captain " Bess. Will put his foot on the ball, and at the signal rolled or "snapped " it back as usual to Jack, crouch- ing just at his heels. But — and just here was the trick — be- fore the ball reached Jack's hands it had been touched for an instant by Cliff Alden, who stood at Will's right hand. Thus the rule was satisjfied, and the quarter back was free to take the ball as near the goal as his nimble feet could carry him. After a little practice the play worked smoothly, and when Jack's mother came in she found the boys and her daughter radiant with hope and eager for the day of the great match. Every night after school the Elston eleven played a practice game with a "scrub " team, but sundry private and more im- portant rehearsals were held in secluded back yards where no keen-eyed visitors from Pittsfield could penetrate. There was only one spectator of these mysteries — "Captain" Bess Hornby — and the precious ' * quarter back trick ' ' was never used in the public practice. The boys devised a code of sig- nals by which the captain could give his orders in the field without warning the enemy of his intentions. " Now, Tom, for a kick! " was Jack's signal for " Bessie's trick." The other side would think this a warning to the half back to be ready to receive and kick the ball, and Jack's new departure for their goal would take them by surprise. Every precaution OUR BOYS. ISS' had been taken to preserve secrecy, and the day of the match found Bess and the boys confident of victory. At two o'clock the rectangular field was already surrounded by a great throng in carriages and on foot. All Elston had turned out, and Pittsfield had brought along East Pittsfield to swell the applause for the black and red. The Hornby car- riage was gay with the blue and white of Elston and with the bright faces of Bess and a party of her friends. The Pittsfield players, who came out first, were greeted with a roar of cheers from one side of the field, and before that had died away the appearance of Captain Jack and his braves called out a louder and longer shout from the friends of the blue and white. Captain Hornby and Captain Burt met and shook hands gravely in the middle of the field and settled the preliminaries of the game, while their men ran about to limber up. The sun and wind were neutral, so Pittsfield, who had won the toss of a cent, took the kick-of6 and Jack's men took the eastern half of the field. The neatly dressed gentleman who was to referee the game handed the ball to Captain Burt, and then with a single syllable let loose the dogs of war. "Play! " rang out the referee's voice. The Pittsfield center rusher — the awful freshman, Potter — touched the ball daintily with his foot, then picked it up, and, tucking it under his arm, started for the east, or Elston, goal. Started, I say, for before he had taken the fourth stride a pair of blue and white arms were around his waist and he was down. The seven rushers of each side quickly lined up, and the ball was passed to a Pittsfield half back, whose foot sent it whirling over the heads of the rushers. It descended into the arms of Griggs, the Elston full back, whose duty it was to guard the goal. But, alas! it went through his arms, and in a twinkling a Pittsfield player had dropped upon it. The rushers lined up now only ten yards from the goal line and squarely in front of the posts. " Hold hard, Pittsfield! " shouted Captain Burt. " Get through and stop the kick ! " yelled Captain Hornby. Again the ball was snapped back, and before an Elston 154 OUR BOYS. man could reach him the half back's skillful drop kick had sent it over the bar and between the posts. Pittsfield had scored a goal from the field, counting five points. Pittsfield and her suburb applauded accordingly. Surprised, but by no means disheartened. Captain Hornby and his men renewed the struggle. They played more warily now, and for some time kept the ball near the middle of the field. Then they worked it into Pittsfield 's half. But their best efforts failed to place it within twenty-five yards of the coveted goal. The first of the two innings closed with the score still five to nothing against them. In the intermission Cliff and Jack went to the Hornby carriage to encourage its anxious occupants. " Don't fear, Bess," said her brother. "They are getting tired, and in this inning we'll work the ball near enough to — to win," he said, abruptly closing his sentence as the Pitts- field captain came up. In the second inning Pittsfield changed her style of play. After once securing the ball she used every means to keep it, never kicking and taking no risks. If she could carry out this " block " game until time expired the victory was hers. Jack saw it and urged his men to greater efforts. Bess saw it and feared the worst. She knew that her brother's eleven was doing its best and losing. So the time went on. The anxious look on Captain Burt's face softened a little at the referee's warning, . *• Only eight minutes more! " Jack was desperate. The ball must be captured at all haz- ards. Abandoning all pretense of defending his own goal, he put all his men in the rush line. The temptation of that un- protected goal and a big score was too much for Captain Burt's judgment. He gave the signal for a kick. For a moment the two lines strained breast to breast, and then the ball was put in play. The next moment the ball and Jim Griggs, the luckless Elston full back, were flying toward the waiting "half." The half muffed, and Griggs dropped on the leather. The crowd was too nervous to shout. OUR BOYS. 155 *' In line there, quick! " shouted Jack, trembHng with ex- citement. "Now, Tom, steady for a kick," in the same clear voice. Tom braced himself to receive the ball. The red and black line swooped down upon him. But the ball — where was the ball? '• Jack, Jack! " was the shout. The quarter back had the ball and was flying down the field. The goal-tender made a lunge for him, but Jack dodged and placed the ball in triumph on the ground behind the posts. "Foul!" cried Captain Burt. "The quarter back can't run." "Foul! " thundered all Pittsfield and all East Pittsfield in one voice. The referee called time and listened to the opposing claims. Then he told how he had seen ClifE touch the ball before Jack started with it. The Pittsfielders were amazed. The freshman's eyes opened wide. "It is a touchdown for Elston," decided the referee. " Three minutes more. Play! " he shouted. The touchdown counted four points, and unless the goal were kicked from it Pittsfield would win. Jack brought the ball straight out fifteen yards, then lay down at full length and held the ball out the length of his two arms and an inch from the ground, aiming it carefully at the two posts and crossbar which formed the goal. Tom was to make the kick. He took the range with his eye. " Cock her up a little, Jack," he said. Jack carefully elevated the point of the ball. " Two minutes more," said the referee. '" Lacings out," directed Tom. Jack altered slightly the position of the ball. Tom glanced approvingly from the leather egg to the cross- bar and then said, " Let her down." Jack touched the ball to the ground, and Tom's kick sent it sailing over the bar. " Goal! " said the referee. 156 OUR BOYS. "Quick, boys. We'll win yet!" said plucky Captaia Burt. ••Time's up ! " said the referee, adding, in a voice which was lost in a tumult of cheers, " Score six to five in favor of Elston." The crowd broke through the ropes and, lifting the victors upon their shoulders, bore them about in triumph. The van- quished gathered in a doleful knot and gave three dispirited cheers for the Elston High School eleven. "Come together here at our carriage," was the word which Jack Hornby passed to his men. They formed a circle about the leader, and Captain Jack, his face glowing with pleasure,^ led the cheering for the defeated team. Then Cliff Alden stepped into the circle, and, doffing his worsted cap, swung it over his curly head as he proposed, '• Three times three and a tiger for Captain Bess, the girl who saved the day ! ' * CRICKET. THE origin of this noble game is an unsettled subject of dispute among those who claim to know all about it. Some authorities would have it to be little more than a century- old. Others put it seventy or eighty years still far- ther back, while the Rev. J. Pycroft, whose opinion ought to go for a good deal, makes out a strong case for the thirteenth century, when he says it was played under the name of "club-ball," in a very simple manner, from which it developed by a natural proc- ess of evolution, precisely as baseball did from " rounders." When first known as * ' cricket ' ' it was played with two wickets only twelve inches high, but byway of compensation full two feet apart, while between them was a hole as big as a basin scooped in the ground, which answered somewhat the same purpose as the "home plate," for if the wicket keeper suc- ceeded in putting the ball in it while the batter was making a run, or otherwise out of his ground, the un- lucky batter had to step down and out. After a while a third stump two feet in length was laid across the other two as a target for the bowler, and in 1780 the width between the wickets was re- duced to six inches. Next year the third stump was stuck in the ground beside the others, instead of on top of them, and their height increased to twenty- two inches. Finally, about 1817, the wickets were made twenty-seven inches high and eight inches wide, and two small sticks, called "bails," were laid on top of them; and since then no further changes have been made. The bat has gone through some changes too. Previous to 1745 there was no rule as to size, and cautious players went on increasing the width and height of their bats until a cer- tain Mr. White brought matters to a crisis by appearing in a 158 OUR BOYS. match with a gigantic bat which completely covered the wicket — a "regular barn door," with a venge- ance. Thereupon the rule was made which still continues in force that this "mighty scepter of delight," as Felix enthusiastically calls it, should be not more than thirty-eight inches in length nor four and a quarter in width. Of the length twenty-five inches are taken up by the blade and thirteen by the handle. There are several kinds of bats, the best being those which have cane and whale- bone handles set in a willow blade, which should, so far as possible, be free from knots or flaws, and have a straight, even grain. The present style of ball, with the ex- ception of some very slight modifications, seems to have been in use since cricket assumed anything like its present form. It must not be more than nine inches in circumference, nor weigh more than five and three fourths nor less than five and one fourth ounces. It is sewn with a treble seam and has a much thicker '' cover than a baseball. Having thus briefly described the articles required for a game of cricket, which will be better understood, how- ever, by a glance at the figures, I will try to give some idea of the game itself, having in mind more particularly those who have never played it themselves, or possibly have never seen a game played. Cricket may be played either single wicket or double wicket, but it is now so rarely played in the former manner that we can safely confine our attention to the latter. For a double wicket match game eleven players on a side are necessary, and after the captains have tossed to settle who shall go to the bat first the loser places his field and the winner sends in two of his surest, safest batters to defend the wickets and to make OUR BOYS. 159 runs. The disposition of the field will depend upon the style of bowling, whether it be fast, medium pace, or slow, and I have accordingly prepared two diagrams, by studying which the reader will get a pretty clear idea of how the fielders are placed, and what dangers the batsman has to guard against when compiling his runs. A distance of twenty-two yards separates the wickets, and by this scale the relative positions of the players may be easily estimated. The field having been duly placed, the batsmen having taken their stand, with legs carefully protected by pads and hands by ingenious rubber gloves, the umpire calls "play," and amid a thrilling hush of expectation the bowler sends down his first ball. After five balls have been delivered from one wicket the umpire calls "over," and the whole field changes about until the position of the men bears the same relation to the other wicket that it did to the one first bowled against. This calling out of " over," and consequent change of field, gave some quick wit the opportunity to say that cricket was a very queer game, because it had hardly begun before it was over. 2 JL ,.jl u 1 FAST BOWLING. ■•7 s. Striker. 4- Short Slip. 1. Bowler. 5- Point. 2. V^''icket Kepper. 6. Long Slip. 3- Long Stop. 7- Mid-Wicket On. U. Umpire. 8. Long Off. g. Cover-Point. 10. Third Man Up. 11. Long Leg. 160 OUR BOYS, e. 4, 9. 2. .^^•^ V &•■ V •10 S. Striker. 1. Bowler. 2. Wicket-Keeper. 3. Long; Stop. MEDIUM PACE BOWLING. 4. Short Slip. 5. Point. 6. Long Slip. 7. Long On. U. Umpire. 8. Long Off. 9. Cover-Point. ID. Mid-Wicket On. II. Leg. In this diagram Third Man Up is made Mid-Wicket On, while Cover-Point comes in nearer than when the bowling was very fast. Five balls constitute an •' over," and these overs continue to be bowled from alternate ends by different bowlers until the whole eleven players have tried their hand at the bat and been disposed of. Runs are made by the batsman driving the ball far enough away to give him time to change places with the other batter before the ball returns. Each change constitutes a run, and in matches in England it has sometimes happened that one batsman has made over four hundred runs in this way. Six is the largest number of runs that can be made from a single hit, that being what is allowed when the ball is driven clear out of the grounds. The business of the bowler is to try in every possible way to knock down the wickets in front of which the batsman stands, or else to tempt him into hitting the ball up into the air so that it may be caught on the fly by one of the fielders. Besides being bowled or caught out a batter maybe "run out," that is, have his wickets knocked down by the ball while OUR BOYS. 161 he is Dusy making a run; or he may be "stumped out," which is to have the same thing happen when he incautiously steps out of his ground to hit at an unusually tempting ball. The ball comes to the batter on the first bounce, and the bowler's skill is shown in varying the pitch, speed, and direc- tion of the ball so that the batter may become bewildered and fail to defend his wickets. The best kind of bowling is what is known as " bowling with a break," the peculiarity of which consists in that the ball after striking the ground does not con- tinue straight on, but swerves sharply to the right or left like a "cut" tennis ball, a kind of bowling, therefore, which bears much the same relation to the ordinary that ' ' curve pitching " does to the old-fashioned style. It is not easy to acquire, and few have the art in perfection. The great point in batting is to play with a straight bat, that is, so far as possible to swing the bat at right angles to the ground, the advantage thereby gained being that the wickets are more completely covered, and there is less liability of giv- ing a catch. Next in importance is to play forward, that is, to meet the ball as far forward as you safely can, and not wait for it to come right upon you. Thirdly, it should be the batter's aim to play low; in other words, to hit as many "grounders" or "daisy-cutters" as possible, for they are harder to field, and give no chance for a catch. The player who has these three principles well instilled and can put them into practice is bound to run up large scores. Cricket is by no means so exciting a game as either base- ball, football, or lacrosse, and has the further disadvantage of requiring more time both for practice and for playing than the other three. In fact, it is essentially a game for those who have more or less abundant leisure, and consequently, on this continent, at all events, where time seems so much more precious than in Great Britain, its votaries must always be lim- ited in numbers. Two whole days at least are required for a first-class two-innings match, and three and even four days' matches are not uncommon in England. Canada, as befits a loyal British colony, supports the game enthusiastically, and there are clubs in every city, town, and village from Halifax 11 162 OUR BOYS. to Victoria, B.C. In the United States the two chief homes of cricket are Philadelphia and Boston, although there are good clubs at New York, Detroit, and elsewhere, and also at some of the larger universities. There is one thing to be said on behalf of cricket which can hardly be said of any other kindred game, namely, that so far it has remained uncontaminated by the gambling element, and this is no small boast. What cricket lacks in intensity of ex- citement it gains in dignity and purity, and if there ever should come a revulsion from the present almost frantic pas- sion for baseball it will be strange if men do not turn to the noble game of cricket and bestow upon it the attention it so worthily merits. LACROSSE. IN the matter of age no field game in vogue upon this con- tinent has so much whereof to boast as lacrosse, for it was played with tremendous energy and wonderful skill many years, and perhaps even centuries, before the foot of the first white man pressed, American soil. The simple truth is that no one knows, or will ever be able to find out, just how old the game is, it being an Indian invention, and Indian tradi- tions being about as reliable as fish stories and ' ' special corre- spondence." When Cartier came to Canada he found the Indians as en- thusiastic over the game as the modern American is over base- ball, and it was one of his party who, noticing the resemblance the stick used bore to a bishop's crosier, gave it the name of la crosse, which, united into one word, has denominated the game ever since. There is a good deal of difference tetween the way the Choctaws, the Ojibways, the Iroquois, and the Algonquins of those old days played lacrosse and the way it is played now. For one thing the stick was very different, as will be seen by looking at Diagram r, while the ball was made of stuffed deer-hide instead of rub- ber. Then there seemed to be no limit as to the number of players, Catlin stating that he saw it played by 600, 800, or even 1,000 at a time. The goals, too, were either a single pole or two stakes twenty-five feet high and six feet apart, with a line across the top, and set from five hundred yards to half a mile distant from each other. Matches, instead of be- ing decided by the best three games out of five, consisted of ten, twenty, or one hundred games, and often lasted two or three days ; while the ground, instead of being smooth and 164 OUR BOYS. level as a floor, was generally some forest glade or natural meadow, with none of its pristine roughness removed. So that it is clear the game has gained a good deal since it came into the hands of the white men ; and although a ' ' paleface ' ' team would no doubt make a very poor show against a team of dusky braves in a game played in the ' * good old-fashioned way," any one of the leading Canadian clubs can put a twelve into the field to-day which can easily vanquish the very best of the Indian players under the modern rules. And yet it is not much more than thirty years since lacrosse first came into vogue among the whites, and only twenty years have passed since the suggestion of Dr. W. G. Beers, of Mon- treal (whose delightful brochure has been of great assistance to me in the preparation of this article), that it be adopted as the national game of Canada, met with ready acceptance, and the same day which saw the creation of the Dominion of Can- ada saw also the adoption of lacrosse as the national game. So much for the history of the game ; now to try and give some idea of how It Is played. The Indian lacrosse has been already referred to. The modern "stick" Is quite a dif- ferent affair. The handle is made of ash, hickory, rock- elm, or basswood, and the netting is of "catgut." The la- crosse must not exceed one foot in width at the widest part, 1. Tip. 2. Top. 3. Bend. 4. Collar or Peg. 5. Butt. 6. Leading string. A. Head and surface of netting. B. Center surface of netting. C. Lower angle. but nine inches is found to be the most serviceable and con- venient width. There is no restriction as to length, but the measurement most likely to suit all parties Is from the toe close into the hollow under the arm. The ball Is made of solid rubber, and must not be less than eight nor more than nine inches in circumference. It bounces very readily, which OUR BOYS. 165 materially adds to the difficulty of controlling it, especially when the field is hard. The goals, which must be at least 125 yards apart, consist of two poles set upright in the ground and surmounted with flags, six feet in all in height and six feet apart. These simple materials, with a good, smooth, Opponents' Goal. Kelder. o Home. O Fielder. O Fielder. O Fielder. o Fielder. o Fielder. Center. o Cover-Point. Fielder. Point, o Goal Keeper. 0^ level field, constitute the entire equipment necessary for a first- class game. Twelve players compose one side, and they take their po- J 66 OUR BOYS. sitions more or less as indicated in the diagram. The matter of position, however, except as regards goal keeper, point, cover-point, and home, is not so rigidly adhered to as in cricket or baseball, a good deal of liberty to roam being allowed provided the game does not suffer. The players are matched in pairs, each member of a side having one of his opponents specially under his charge, although of course he may attack any other who happens to have the ball, and one of the great arts in the game is to " un- cover," that is, to get away from your opponent so that he cannot interfere with your liberty ot' action. Everything being ready, the two "centers" kneel down opposite one another in mid-field, with their lacrosses placed side by side, and the referee lays the little rubber sphere between the sticks. This is called the "face." There is a moment of intense ex- pectation. It is really a beautiful sight. From end to end of the long, level field stand the players in pairs of red and blue, with every nerve and muscle athrob, yet silent and still as statues. Alert and anxious, the goal keepers, sentinel-Hke, guard the gaping space between the poles, while halfway be- tween them the two kneeling figures await the signal to begin. "Play," shouts the referee, and with that word there is a quick, fierce struggle between the "centers," and then, either red or blue gaining the advantage, the ball is caught up upon a lacrosse, and with a skillful throw sent sailing through the air toward one of the goals. Thenceforward there is not a moment's pause or peace until a game is won. Up and down the field, now threatening the blue goal and now the red, the rubber travels, speeding through the air like a bird, or bounding along the ground, every player having his chance at it — no room for ' ' loafing ' * in this game — until at length some well-directed shot proves too much for the vigi- lant goal keeper, and with a triumphant shout of " Game! " the sticks are thrown into the air in token of victory. Lacrosse, both from the players' and spectators* point of view, has many advantages over other field games. In the first place, it is so simple that any looker-on for the first time may understand it at once. There is nothing intricate or OUR BOYS. 167 puzzling about it. The players are divided into two equal sides, certain men are posted in certain positions ; there is a goal to defend and a goal to attack ; the object of both sides is to put the ball through their opponents' goal, and to pre- vent him putting it through theirs ; and all the running, throw- ing, catching, " tobying," and endless variety of brilliant and beautiful play has this single object in view. Again, it is a cheap game, requiring such inexpensive ma- terial, and it is in no sense exclusive. Every player has his innings, so to speak, and no one can monopolize the fun, how- ever good a player he may be. Good players cannot be kept down. They are bound to come to the surface. Then it affords so much exercise of the finest possible kind, bringing into play every muscle and sinew in the body, and a game can be played in so short a time. Finally, it is a very safe game. Accidents of a serious character, such as only too often cast a shadow over the cricket, baseball, or football field, are un- known in lacrosse. Shins may be barked, noses bruised, hands scratched, and eyes blackened, but that is the worst of the damage, and many good players come out of fiercely fought games altogether scathless. KITES. KITE-FLYING has been an American institution ever since Mr. Benjamin Franklin invited the electric current down the string of his historic kite, and if his successors make no valuable discoveries they at any rate derive a great deal of pleasure from bridling the wind with wood, paper, and string. The most satisfactory form of the kite for flying purposes is the "hexagon." For a good-sized "hexagon" the fol- lowing dimensions will be found about right, although indi- vidual taste may make some slight alteration in the propor- tions : The main sticks, a b and c d,2 feet each. The cross-stick, ef, 1 foot 8 inches. These sticks, if possible, should be of dry pine \ inch square. They may be found in any planing mill, or the kite- maker can saw them out him.self . When all the sticks have been cut the right length lay the long sticks on top of one another so that the ends correspond. Ten inches from one end drive a brad carefully through the sticks, and then on ^ — through the center of the cross-piece, e f. After spreading the sticks so that they will be situated something like those in Fig. 1 wind the center crossing firmly with heavy carpet thread. Next notch the ends of the sticks, and at d, b, and /"drive very fine brads into the centers of the notches. Now for the "belt-line." Tie the end of a piece of light fishline to the brad at d, pass it over the notches at e, a, c,f, b, until it comes back to d again. Pull it tight and fasten on the brad at d. Move the stick a b until the distance from d io b equals 16 inches. Then twist the line around the brad at b and the two sticks cannot change their positions. Make .?/" parallel to d b, and twist the line around the brad at/ Now the sticks will OUR BOYS. 169' be held rigidly in their proper positions, and the frame thor- oughly braced. To cover the kite use thin and firm brown paper. Lay a sheet of paper on the floor and place the frame on top of it. With a pencil and ruler draw lines following the outline of the frame an inch from the " belt-line " all around. Cut out the cover, lay the frame on it, paste or mucilage the edges care- fully, fold them over the line, and adjust them to the corners firmly. Take care to keep the paper stretched tightly over the frame. Put the kite where it will dry thoroughly before using it. When thoroughly dry we must be very careful in "rigging" and " getting up " our kite. First of all we must make arrangements for fastening the twine to the kite. On each long stick six inchesupward from the cross of the kite make a little mark with a pencil, and eight inches dowmvard on each long stick make similar marks. These are the points at which the bands are to be attached. The bands should be of light fishline and adjusted as fol- lows : At the marks already made punch small holes through the paper close to each side of the stick. Pass the twine from the front of the kite through one hole around the stick, and back through the other hole. Tie a firm knot which will not slip. The stick may be notched very slightly if necessary. Make the upper band long enough to reach within an inch of the cross when it is drawn down toward the center. The lower band should a little more than reach the upper. Take the end of the flying twine, pass it through both bands, and knot it firmly so that there can be no slipping, for if when the kite is once up the bands slip it is likely to ' ' dive ' ' and wreck itself. In order to fly well the kite must assume a position like that indicated in Fig. 2, and for this reason the upper band is made shorter than the lower, so that the kite will slant at the right angle. Now for the tail. The old-fashioned kite-tail was made of rolls of paper tied along a string, but cloth tail has been found much more satisfactory. The 170 OUR BOYS. very best material for kite-tails is old linen or muslin, which may be torn into long, regular strips and sewed or knotted to- gether. The tail-band is attached firmly to the lower extrem- ities of the long sticks, just as the other bands are fastened further up. A loop is made in the middle of the tail-band and the tail put through it, for it would be disastrous to have the tail slip from side to side. The kite cord should be strong white twine, wound "hand over, hand under " on a stick so that it will pay out easily. The best place to fly a kite is in an open field or meadow. In the country it is easy to find a good spot for the purpose, but in town and city empty lots are few and telegraph and telephone wires woefully plenty. Having selected your spot, put on the kite what you think will be enough tail, and get a friend to hold the kite by the cross in the rear while you walk toward the wind paying out twine. When you are thirty yards from the kite stand still, hold the twine firmly in the right hand. Wait for a strong gust of wind, and then, with a shout to "Let go," run forward, not too fast, keeping an eye on the kite. If it dives about wildly- let out a little twine; if it con- tinues "diving" bring it down and add some tail. If, on the other hand, the kite rises slowly and sluggishly it will prob- ably be necessary to take off a piece of the ballast. When these matters are adjusted try again, and if it rises quickly and vigorously pay out your twine not too rapidly. The moment it begins to sink stop letting out, and if this fails " wind in" until it recovers. When once safely up on a steady breeze a kite requires little attention, but on a squally day it is very much like a yacht, and needs careful watching. During the gusts, when the kite " dives," let out, but "wind in " dur- ing the lulls. Never let out all your twine on a windy day, for you will have no reserve when your kite dives, and you may lose it. Kite-flying is an excellent sport. It demands mechanical skill and close attention, and keeps the flyer out in the open air — a more than good thing in itself. EASY EXPERIMENTS FOR OUR BOYS. I.— OUR BREATH. OUR breath is a mixture of two elements, two compounds and certain impurities from the body. Let us try a few experiments with each of these substances and two or three more with the air as a whole. Blow upon a cool piece of glass and you will at once see watery vapor from the breath form upon its surface. If the glass is very cold the vapor will soon be frozen. Next get a little lump of quicklime. Dissolve some of it in a tin cup. . Carefully pour off the clear liquid into a bottle. Cork the bottle and let it stand for a few hours. Pour a little of the water into a goblet, place into the water one end of a pipestem or tube of glass and blow your breath through it. The water at once becomes milky, show- ing that-carbonic dioxide (CO') was in your breath and has united with the lime to form many particles of limestone. Fasten a little piece of lighted candle to a wire so that you can let it down into a bottle or fruit jar. Take a full breath and hold it for a few seconds, then breathe through a tube into the bottle. Lower the candle and it will go out, because the carbonic dioxide extinguishes flame. Pour some water into a plate. Float in it on a small piece of pasteboard an inch of lighted candle. Invert over the candle a fruit jar. The candle will soon go out. As it burns low pour more water into the plate and you will notice that the water rises in the jar, showing two things — that something has gone out and that what is left will not keep the candle burning. The • ' some- fc.. thing " is nitrogen, which forms about __ ___ W four fifths of our breath. PREPARING NITROGEN. Jhe next experiment is not very agree- able; but truth-seekers must not be deterred by trifles. Breathe deep and blow into a large bottle. Tightly cork. OUR BOYS. 173 After a few days the contents of the bottle will become offen- sive on account of the decay of animal matter thrown out from the lungs. The most important substance in the breath is oxygen. This gas is the most widely diffused and variously active element in nature. Before ascertaining a few facts about it we must learn how to make an alcohol lamp. Get two inches of glass tubing as large inside as a slate pencil, or, if you cannot procure that, ask your photographer for a little tintype; roll this around a pencil and insert it through the cork of an empty ink bottle. Draw through this tube a piece of candle-wick. Use a cartridge-shell as a cap to prevent evaporation. If your druggist declines to sell you pure alcohol have him throw into it a little camphor gum. This will not hurt it for your purpose. Now you have a safe little lamp without cost, and can do with it a great many things, such as bending glass tubing, drawing it out fine, etg., etc. Alcohol flame is very hot and does not smoke. Twist some candle-wick and make a string about as large as a straw. Soak it in melted tallow or paraffine. This will make a convenient taper for future experiments. Ask your jeweler for a small broken watch spring. Heat one end in the flame of your lamp and bend it so as to make a little loop. Wrap around this some waxed thread. Find at the tinner's a small piece of charcoal bark. Buy of your druggist five cents' worth each of potassium chlorate and manganese dioxide. Mix them in about equal portions and half fill a pipe bowl with the mixture. We are now ready to learn something about oxygen, burning a watch Heat the mixture over the lamp. Light spring. the wax taper and from time to time hold it just within the pipe bowl. When the brilliancy of the taper increases you may know that oxygen is going off, and you may blow out and rekindle the taper many times in the mouth of the pipe. If now the oxygen has not all been used, light the string wound on the watch spring and thrust that into the bowl. Should 174 OUR BOYS. ^ SPOOL EXPERIMENT. you be skillful the watch spring will burn with brilliant scin- tillations. Try until you succeed. Then you will have accom- plished a task which has cost many a teacher an hour to do even with expensive apparatus. Now light a tip of the char- coal bark and place it at the mouth of the pipe. If the oxygen is still going off beautiful sparks will be scattered from the live coal. This wonderful substance, oxygen, is what makes all fuel and illuminating material burn, and also keeps up the fires in our bodies. Having thus tested the different substances composing the breath, let us now try a few experiments with air as a unit. Place a card on one end of a spool. Stick a pin through the card into the opening. Apply your mouth to the other end and try to blow the card off. You cannot. Why not ? Take a round piece of leather about three or four inches in diameter and shave the upper edge so as to make it flexible. Insert in the center a strong string. . Soak the leather and press it firmly to the bare floor. Jerk it quickly. As the air presses with a force of fifteen pounds to the square inch it will be diffi- cult to pull the sucker away. Fill a goblet with water and carefully press a sheet of paper over the mouth. Hold your hand on the paper and invert the goblet. The water will not run out. Heat a piece of glass tubing (tubing can usually be pro- cured of a druggist, and sometimes confec- tioners sell very good tubing for a penny a stick filled with candies). Draw it out to a point in the flame of your alcohol lamp. Make the piece six or eight inches long. Find a bottle holding about a pint, large at the bottom, if possible, and fill it one quarter full of water. Insert the large end of the tube through the cork into the water. (A rubber stopper is bet- ter, as it should fit tight.) Blow through the tube, or clasp the bottle with your hands ; the OUR BOYS. ' 175 water will then flow through the tube and form a pretty foun- tain. You here have a perfect illustration of the way in which geysers and flowing oil wells operate. Pour out the water and insert the small end of the tube in the cork. Apply your mouth to the other end of the tube and suck out the air. Then quickly cover the end of the tube with your finger as you re- move your lips, invert the bottle, and insert the tube into a glass of water. The water will make a pretty spray in the bottle, and you have thus formed the "fountain in vacuo " without incurring the expense of an air pump. If the water is tinted these last experiments will be more pleasing. II.— LIQUIDS. We desire to make our experiments both entertaining and instructive. All arts are learned by practice. Physical science is largely dependent upon experimentation. It will often be found that the simple experiments suggested in these articles illustrate some principle that has a wide applica- tion. Let us now, in an entertaining way, try to learn a few facts about liquids. Place an egg in a fruit jar nearly full of water. Drop salt into the jar; the egg will rise. Observe that the water is no higher than before. What became of the salt? A person cannot sink in the Dead Sea. The buoyant power of liquids depends upon their specific gravity, by which we mean the weight of a volume of any liquid as compared with the weight of the same bulk of water. The instrument used for finding the weight of liquids is called a hydrometer. Let us make one. Whittle out a piece of dry pine stick four inches long so that the large end will be the size of a goose quill, and taper to a point. Into the large end stick two pins, and then drop it into a vessel of water. The stick will float upright. Mark it with a pencil at the surface of the water. Now drop the ** hydrometer " into salt water, then into kerosene. Observe 176 OUR BOYS. how far it sinks in each. Varnish the hydrometer, or cover it with paraffine, and it will not absorb water. A body floating in water loses as much weight as the weight of the water it displaces. Read the story of Archimedes and the golden crown. We apply this principle in building iron ships. Gold leaf will float. Some metals, as potassium and sodium, both float and burn. A pretty experiment may be performed with camphor gum. Float and ignite a small piece on water. Note that it is at- tracted to the sides of the vessel. V/hy ? Heat and draw out fine a tube of glass. Place one end in a little colored water. The water will rise several inches in the tube by capillary attraction. Take two plates of window- glass three or four inches square and lay one upon the other so that they will join at one edge, while the opposite edges are separated by a twine string. Place the wedge-shaped end in water tinted with a few drops of red ink. See how the water rises between the glasses and also follows the string. A siphon is a tube bent like the letter [i, the sides being of unequal length- It may be made of rubber, glass, a straw, or any other air-tight substance. Insert the short end of CAPILLARY ATTRACTION. thc siphou into 3. Hquld and exhaust the air with the mouth. The liquid will flow through the tube. The height to which it will rise depends upon its weight and the pressure of the atmosphere. The accompanying cut from Gage's "Physics" shows many applications of the siphon, and it would be an interesting and profitable exercise for our readers to see how many of these experiments they can per- form with home-made apparatus. Let us next learn to make a very interesting instrument which we will call a transparent pump. Provide an argand lamp chimney, two closely-fitting corks, and a small round file broken off near the end. Make a hole about the size of a slate pencil through the corks, and pin over each hole a little leather valve. Into the OUR BOYS. 177 upper cork fasten a wooden rod about a foot long and the diameter of a lead pencil. Place one cork with the valve SIPHONS. opening upward firmly in the tube and insert the piston cork in the other end, valve opening upward also. This should fit exactly, but not be so tight as not to move. If a spout is desired, bore a hole near the large end of the chimney by giving the file, kept wet, a gyratory motion. Insert in this opening through a piece of rubber tubing a short glass tube, bent by heat- ing over a spirit lamp. It is interesting to watch the movements of the valves during the operation of pumping. An old pump maker asked Gal- ileo to explain the principle of the pump. He could not. 12 GLASS PUMP. 178 OUR BOYS. Are you able to give the philosophy of a pump, and even make its action visible? Few contrivances in nature are more beautiful than that by which water is carried through the crust of the earth. This is accomplished by a natural system of pipeage, consisting of two tight layers of rock or clay with a layer of porous sand or gravel between them. When the upper layer is pierced or broken the " water seeks its level." Water has thus been found at a great depth in many places, even beneath the hot sands of the desert. The illustration Tiir T'prv(-Ti'i T? riTT apil^^t^v ■\i tt t t; will show how by this means the homes of men are enriched and beautified. An ordinary tea kettle shows the principle of the artesian well, inasmuch as the water stands as high in the spout as in the kettle. This fact, though familiar, is wonderful. It is sometimes stated thus, as a paradox : "Ever so little water will balance ever so much." Should you connect a small pipe with the bottom of a great tank the liquid would rise and fall in tank and tube together. This leads us to another apparently contradictory statement called the "culinary paradox," that the way to make water boil is to cool it. Provide yourself with a bottle that will hold about half a pint. Fit it with a tight cork. Fill the bottle one quarter full of warm water and place it on a hot stove. When the water boils insert the stopper, being careful not to burn the fingers. The water at once stops boiling on account of the pressure of the steam In the bottle. Steam in the boiler of a high-pressure engine is hotter than two hundred and twelve degrees, the point at which It is thrown off in the open air. Now remove the bottle from the stove and in a few OUR BOYS. 179 seconds the water will again begin to boil. Blow upon the bottle and the boiling will become more violent. As it cools it will continue to boil for several minutes. You have perhaps guessed the reason of this — the steam has become condensed, and thus a partial vacuum has been produced, and water boils at a low temperature where there is no air. Even when the air is rarefied the boiling point is much lowered. Potatoes and eggs cannot be boiled upon the tops of high mountains. When the water in the bottle ceases to boil you will have a ' ' water hammer ' ' in which the water will fall from one end of the bottle to the other with a sharp metallic sound, because it encounters no resistance from air. Lastly, insert the neck of the bottle into a vessel of water and slowly remove the cork j the water will rise and almost fill the bottle. III.— OUR EYES. The eye is a camera. Long before Daguerre's invention light had been painting pictures on the retina. Like those of the photographer's camera, the images in our eyes are inverted. We can easily show why this must be so by making in a sheet of paper a small round hole like the pupil, and holding the paper between a window and some white background. The image of the window on the paper will seem to be inverted. If the curtain is raised it will in the picture appear to go down. The same is true of the magic lantern. The operator must insert the picture inverted if he would have it appear correctly on the screen. There is a part of the retina which receives no image, called "the blind spot." You can find it in this way: Close the left eye and look steadily with the right at the circle before you. X Slowly move the paper toward and away from your face. At a certain distance the cross will entirely disappear. This effect is produced when the light rays fall upon the fibers of the optic nerve. One would suppose that these fibers would be exceedingly sensitive, but they cannot perceive a trace of light. 180 OUR BOYS. The eye is subject to many delusions. One of the most per- fect may be produced in this way : Roll a piece of paper or cardboard so as to make a tube six or eight inches long and with an opening the size of a quarter of a dollar. Place the end of the tube to the right eye and look straight forward with both eyes. Rest a book or the hand vertically on the left edge of the tube near the outer end. Slowly move the book toward the face. You will see a round hole through the book. Another deception which affords profitable reflection can be shown with coins. Take three coins of the same size and arrange them in the shape of a triangle, thus : Let two of them form the base and be about two inches apart. Now request some one to place, without measuring, the third, so that there will be the same distance between it and each of the other coins that there is from outer edge to outer edge of the other coins. Not one person in a hundred will get it right unless much time is taken for deliberation. Indeed, how often we learn that " things are not what they seem ! " All are familiar with some of the effects of refraction. We see the sun before it rises and after it sets. Water and air are constantly disturbing our vision. Place a spoon in a goblet ; it appears to be broken at the surface of the water. Put a coin in an empty teacup and push it away from you until the coin just disappears. Hold head and hand steady and pour water into the cup without moving the coin. The coin reap- pears, showing that the rays of light which come from the coin are bent down to the eye. Sportsmen who try to spear fish sometimes miss the mark because they have not learned this law of physics. Dark bodies appear smaller than light ones of the same size. Black dresses make stout people appear more slender. One illustration will afford an in- teresting proof of this law of irradia- tion, as it is called. Place this paper some feet from you and look at the Fig. I. black and white squares (Fig. 1). OUR BOYS. 181 Where they meet there seems to be a strait of white connecting the two seas of the same color. Upon looking at the other picture (Fig. 2), the white squares appear to be the larger, although the two are of the same dimensions. One person in seventeen is color blind. He cannot dis- tinguish some colors from others. To him the green leaves have the same color as the ripe cherries. Many of our railroad managers now examine their employees with reference to this GREEW GRffN/SHBLUe. Fig. 2. defect of vision. Colors often deceive the best of eyes. Look steadily at a blue wafer and then quickly at a yellow one. The latter will appear green. Other combinations can be made. This fact is important in mixing paint and printing maps. White is produced by the union of all the primary colors. Two colors are said to be comple- ^LowisH GREEN mcntarywhen together they form white light. In the diagram (Fig. 3) the colors which are opposite each other are comple- mentary. Suspend horizontally a square or round piece of pasteboard about eight inches in diameter by three strings of equal length, and attach them to a firm piece One side of the center cut a vioiir VIOLET m REDDISH ORANGE RED Fig. 3. of twine or fish line (Fig. 4). slit one inch by two. Twist the string, and when sufficient motion has been secured a circular opening will appear, through any part of which a newspaper may be read. This arises from 182 OUR BOYS. the fact that the retina can retain an impression one eighth of a second. The experiment may now be varied by marking with a crayon the upper surface of the card with the complementary colors. Upon turning the card the card will seem to be nearly white. If the colors were pure and in true position, the white would Y^^^ be perfect. In like manner, if the seven colors were painted, they would become white if the card were revolved fast enough so that each remained in the eye until all could get there. An experiment showing that the retina becomes tired and less sensitive may be performed in this manner. Make a cross on a dark ground and look at it steadily for some seconds. Then quickly look upon a white background, and a black cross will appear. IV.— FORCES. Force is that which tends to produce motion or rest. Instru- ments or machines are contrivances for applying force. The words force and energy are often used in the same sense. It is now known that energy is, like matter, ever changing its form, but never destroyed. Sunshine makes wheat grow; wheat produces strength ; this becomes motion, as in the blacksmith's hammer; motion is converted into heat in the smitten iron. Observe the electric light. It has been successively sunbeam, vital force, affinity, heat, motion, electricity, light. Hold near the stove a sheet of wrapping paper, then draw it rapidly between the arm and body, clasping it quite closely. Now, if it is placed near the wall it will fly to it and be held there for several hours if the air is dry. It would cling to the ceiling in like manner. Dry the pith of a sunflower stalk. Suspend from a bent glass rod by means of white silk threads two pieces of the pith half as large as a chestnut. Vigorously comb the hair with a rubber comb and touch the pith balls. They will fly apart. Separate them a little distance, touch one OUR BOYS. 183 with the comb and the other with a piece of glass that has been rubbed with a dry cloth. They will now be attracted to each other. Place some bits of tissue paper under a plate of glass that is supported by two books, then rub the surface of the glass. The papers will dance about in an amusing manner. THE BOY SUPPORTED BY THE GLASSES BECOMES ELECTRIFIED WHEN BEATEN WITH A CAT SKIN. We have been playing with frictional electricity, which Franklin proved to be of the same nature as lightning. Many interest- ing experiments may be performed with a five-cent magnet. Gravity is another force with which we are all constantly experimenting. Every time we climb or descend a hill, when- ever we try to maintain our balance, all pay unconscious defer- ence to this invisible power, which not only controls small things, but moves the worlds. Look around and you will find that the stability of objects is secured by making the center of gravity low. This we accomplish chiefly in two ways — by making the base broad and by constructing it of heavy materials. An ordinary lamp will serve as an illustration, but the follow- ing will be more novel : Wrap a sheet of manilla j paper two feet long around a broom handle ; fasten the edges together with muci- lage, and draw off when dry. Insert in the large end gravity experiment. 184' OUR BOYS. a tightly fitting cork into which a pin has been thrust two thirds of its length. Into opposite sides of the cork stick two jackknives. Push the head of a needle into the cork of a bottle. Balance the tube by carefully resting the side of the pin upon the needle point. A curious illustration of force of gravity acting through the air may be given as fol- lows : Lay a shingle upon a table, the thicker end projecting about four inches. Lay upon this a sheet of newspaper smoothed down. Strike the edge of the shingle a sharp blow. Why do you not knock it off ? Cohesion is a force without which there would be no such thing as ten^a firma — firm earth. It holds together the particles of every solid substance. Heat is opposed to cohesion. The morning sun melts the frost and then converts it into vapor. Crystallization is one form of cohesion. Catch the snowflakes on a piece of black cloth. Their prevailing shape is like that of a star, but there is an infinite variety of modifications. Place CRYSTALS OF SNOW. upon a piece of glass a solution of salt or alum, then heat the glass and see the crystals form immediately. View them even through a common microscope and notice how many beautiful forms you will discover. Adhesion holds together the particles of different substances. When a lump of sugar is dropped into water it dissolves, because the adhesion between water and sugar is greater than the cohesion of the sugar. Drop in a common pebble ; the result is just the contrary. Blow a soap bubble, that plaything of philosophers as well as children. Here is a film of soap and water inclosing a sphere of air. The soap joins with the water to make a stronger film. If glycerine be added it will become still more elastic. Cements depend for their efficiency upon OUR BOYS. 185 adhesion. This force tends to make liquids mix, and, what is more wonderful, diffuses gases in the same manner. Take a full breath. Oxygen passes through the membrane of your lungs, and, robbing your blood of another element, passes out again as a poisonous compound. Friction is another form of adhesion. The holding qualities of a knot depend chiefly upon this force. Here is a knot that every person should know how to tie. Remember, the string in the right hand should first pass over the string in the left hand, and the second time under; this makes the "flat," or "figure eight" knot. Great use is made of " figure eight " knot. elastic force. The following will show neatly both the compressibility and elasticity of air. Fill a pint bottle with water. Thrust a little vial, mouth downward, into the bottle. Now with the mouth withdraw about half the air that is in the vial ; then fit one of the fingers closely into the neck of the bottle and by pushing it down the vial will descend ; by varying the pressure it can be made to rise and fall at pleasure. Two or three vials may be used. Brief mention has thus been made of some of the forces which do the work of the world. We will conclude with an experiment showing the effect of removing heat force. Place in a basin a quantity of crushed ice and salt. Put into the mixture a vial of water and it will soon freeze. Rest the bottom of the basin on a wet board and it will in a short time be frozen to it, even in midsummer. The same result would follow even if the board be placed upon the stove. v.— OUR EARS. The boys and girls of to-day learn wonderful facts about sound which were never dreamed of in the philosophies of their fathers. Look into their yellow old school books and you will find that telephones, phonographs, and microphones were not mentioned. 186 OUR BOYS. Even in telegraphing operators now rely solely upon their ears in receiving messages, while twenty-five years ago they depended entirely upon their eyes. Every hour of the day hundreds of lives are dependent for safety upon the accuracy with which trained ears distinguish between sounds which to the unskillful seem alike. Train the senses. That youth has found one great secret of success who has acquired the habit of using these instru- ments of knowledge with accuracy and promptness. One prime object in experimenting is the acquisition of the power of close observation. Among the more valuable experiments relating to sound are those which illustrate its mode of motion, speed, pitch, quan- tity, and quality. Note the instant when a distant steamboat whistles, or the puff of smoke leaves a gun, or a flash of lightning illumines the sky, and the second when the sound produced reaches the ear. From this you can easily calculate the distance of either object, for we know that sound travels one thousand and ninety feet a second. A ray of light would go round our earth eight times in a second, and therefore for short distances its speed cannot be calculated. Take a board or slender box about two feet long, and drive a nail in the upper edge of one end and attach a little wheel Fig I. — Sonometer or monochord. to the other. Fasten on one end a wedge-shaped stick and place a movable stick of the same kind at the other end. Fasten a string or fine piano wire to the nail, lead it over the bridges and wheel, and attach to the other end some kind of 1 OUR BOYS. 187 weight; a small tin pail partially filled with water serves a good purpose (Fig. 1). This instrument is called a sonometer, but Pythagoras, who lived five hundred years before the birth of Christ, named it a monochord. Strike the cord or draw across it a violin bow. Now move the left hand bridge half the distance to the other, and then to various places, each time repeating the stroke. Put more water in the pail and sound the cord again. Replace the string with one that is heavier and draw the bow. If each sound produced has been care- fully observed this truth has been learned, that pitch depends upon rapidity of vibrations; and this is varied in stringed instruments in three ways — by shortening, or tightening the cord, or varying its weight. That instrument so formidable to the quiet of the household, the rubber whistle (Fig. 2), may be made to do some good if we use it to illustrate variation of pitch. A goblet also may be made to sing by rub- bing the linger over its edge (Fig. 3). You can alter the pitch by varying the amount of water in the goblet, or the speed of the fingers, or the size of the tumbler. The god Pan made flutes of reeds, but in our ^^^' '^^ dayboys think the willow more musical. Make three willow whistles, one from a small branch and two from a larger one. In the latter case leave the spaces between the plugs and the mouth-piece of unequal lengths. Now blow ^''^- 3- the whistles, and what is the result? What variation can also be produced by altering the holes which admit and give egress to the breath? Fasten a tack to the wire of the monochord horizontal to the board. Cause the wire to vibrate and draw along vertically a piece of smoked glass so that it just touches the point of the tack. A crooked line will be produced, showing that sound travels in waves. A call bell when struck, if brought near the cheek, will pro- duce a tickling sensation, and the waves of great bells in towers OUR BOYS. smite the ear with considerable force, and are easily felt by the nerves of touch. Different kinds of sound all travel with essentially the same speed. If this were not so we could not have any musical combinations of voices or instruments. If the cornet's notes were late, or the base did not arrive in time, the effect would be laughable but not artistic. But sounds do not travel with the same speed if they go through different media. If you are walking on the rail- road, stop and listen to the blows of the trackmen. Two are heard for each stroke. One comes by way of the rails and the other through the air. The former makes the better time. Sol- ids are excellent conduct- ors and metals are the best of all. Place a watch Fig. 4.— The Human Ear. at one end of a long pole and listen at the other. The ticks can be distinctly heard, and at a much greater distance if an iron pipe be used. A pleasant variation of this experiment consists in placing the pole at the throat of a person who is talking and in listening at the other end. The vibrations of the vocal chords may be felt if the pole is delicately held. Seeing is like hearing. Waves of ether strike the eye; waves of air beat upon the eardrum (Fig. 4). Sound and light have many points in common. Both are motion, and each can be thrown back, absorbed, or turned aside. Dark- ness may be produced by waves being too slow or too fast, and silence in the same way. Loudness depends upon the size of the waves and the dis- tance from the vibrating body. The heaviest cannonading ever heard on this continent was at the battle of Gettysburg, for there were the most pieces of artillery smiting the air. Two miles away the sound was but one fourth as loud, and always varies in that proportion inversely as the square of the distance. OUR BOYS. 189 What pleasant fancies the ancients indulged in in regard to echoes or reflected sounds ! These no longer possess super- natural charms, but are by no means robbed of interest. Did you ever stop to think of the conditions essential to the forma- tion of echoes? Have you been in a place where one sound made many echoes? The stories about '• whispering gal- leries," the musical Memnon, sounding grottoes, and echoing chasms bear with them such an air of romance, that it seems an almost thankless task to interpret them in the light of sober science. Speech distinguishes man from every other creature. The human voice is the most wonderful of all musical instruments, jenny Lind's unaided voice commanded more attention and admiration than any orchestra that ever performed. Might a friend of ' ' Our Boys ' ' make a very short plea for the train- ing of the voice? — -not for singing and oratory particularly, but for the everyday voice of common speech and reading. Clear, agreeable, kindly, courteous, sympathetic. Ah, the voice! It is the most flexible and expressive agent of the human soul, and, according to Corti, plays with infinite variations upon " an instrument of three thousand strings." VI.— MOTION. Strictly speaking, there is no absolute rest in the whole earth. As our globe whirls on its axis and speeds around the sun, all things on it or in it must also be moving. We are kept from darting into space by a nice balancing of forces. The boy who turns a grindstone knows that if it revolves too fast the water will fly, and a similar tendency on a great scale modifies the directions of all oceanic and atmospheric currents. If there were an interpolar railroad, and the cars should start from the south pole, which way during the whole trip would they tend to fly off ? Strange to say, we should fly into space if our earth should either stop or revolve much faster. Matter objects to both starting and stopping. 190 OUR BOYS. To prove the former, place a card on the open mouth of a bottle and on it a coin. Snap the card smartly with the finger. It flies forward, but the coin drops into the bottle. On the other hand, the foolish passenger who jumps from the moving train finds that while his feet are stopped his head goes on. Momentum, or amount of motion, is the product of two factors — speed and weight. Either factor being large you have a striking result. Glaciers cannot be seen to move, but they grind rocks to powder. The wind is light, but forests fall before it. Reaction is always equal to action. Provide yourself with five or six glass balls. Cement to each of them a loop of leather or cloth. Suspend them by threads so that they just - -....,. .- .,-, - touch each other (Fig. 1). Let drop one and then two or three from one side. Now one from each side. Here is perfect elasticity, and a good illustration not only of the third law of motion, but of the manner in which solids are heated by vibrations passing Fig. I. from molecule to molecule. This leads to a remark concerning the motion of mobile sub- stances. Place in a bottle or flask some water and a little saw- dust. Heat the water, and if you watch the sawdust you will discover that it rises and falls in regular currents. Warm cur- rents at the top and cold below is the general rule for both water and air. A simple method for showing the principle of atmospheric currents, and also the plan often used in ventilating mines, may be shown as follows : Find a little box like a small fancy soap box, or any other tight vessel of similar dimensions. Make a hole at one end and a ring of small holes at the other. Place over the former an argand lamp chimney and inside of the ring a lighted piece of candle. Slip over the candle another chimney and hold a lighted paraffine taper at the opening of the other chimney. The flame and smoke will descend, and the latter will soon be seen coming out of the other tube (Fig. 2). In such mines they keep a fire burning at one OUR BOYS. 191 opening, out of which the foul air passes and the pure air comes in at another shaft. A pretty experiment showing the same principle may be given by holding over a lamp chimney the down of milk- weed. It will float to the ceiling and often return to the lamp, and so continue until it gets out of the currents. Few departments of science have been | studied with greater diligence than that which considers the direction of motion. Robin Hood, who split the willow wand with his arrow, and the commodore who fires one of Krupp's great guns, the Indian who shoots the cataract, and the astronomer who tracks a comet, alike depend for their aim upon a knowledge of the laws which govern the motions of bodies. Motions are either simple or compound. When I drop an apple into your hand I illustrate the former, and when you bow your acknowledgment you show the latter, for your head is moved by two muscles acting on opposite sides of your head. Fig. €Xj When motion encounters an impenetrable body it is thrown back so that the angle a, b, c (Fig. 3) will always equal c, b, d. This great law of reflection not only applies to motion, but is also true of light, heat, and sound. Most motions result from the ac- tion of two or more forces. Flying, swimming, rowing, sailing, are of this kind. The planets all move in elliptical orbits by the action of Fig. 4- two beautifully balanced forces. 192 OUR BOYS. This fact was discovered by Kepler. Let us draw an ellipse. Drive two tacks into a board a few inches apart. Drop over them a loose loop of string. Place a pencil inside of the string and, keeping the string tight, move on with the pencil until the ellipse is completed (Fig. 4). Did you ever see a farmer in the following manner prepare his grain for the fair? Taking handfuls of wheat, he sends it from him with a whirling motion. Where on the floor, near by or farther away, can he gather the heaviest grains? In the fanning mill which is flung farther, the chaff or the grain? In the milk separater which takes the outermost path, the cream or the milk? Perhaps you may be helped to these answers if we first perform a few experiments (Fig. 5). Suspend by a firm Fig. 5. String a glass flask or round bottle, large at its sides. Intro- duce into the flask a little water and quicksilver, or, if the latter cannot be obtained, a few shot will serve. Twist, either with the fingers or a wheel, the string and give the flask a rapid motion. The heavy quicksilver forms a shining band around the largest part of the flask and the water rises from the bottom. Now fasten the cord to the side of a pasteboard, a small hoop, a short stick, or a sphere flattened at the poles, and if you are sufficiently skillful you will find that they all insist upon revolv- ing around their shortest axis. This is due to the action of centrifugal force. Thus, dear reader, have we spent a little time together in studying the wonderful works of God, and I think we have at least learned this, that little things are bound to great ones, even as a single ray of light shows a path to the great sun. 3iL77-3