UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROUNA Sshool of Library Scieoce a, u> ^ r^ ^ 'ShI s^ ^ 5 ^ '1 ANNUALETTE Digitized by the Internet Arciiive in 2012 with funding from University of North Carolina at Chapel Hi http://archive.org/details/annualettechristOOIady THE ■^ FWBiLiiiiiiaiiiin) m^ To Mo CAKTEB & C ANNUALETTE CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEAR'S GIFT. EDITED BY A LADY. BOSTON: PUBLISHED BY T. H. CARTER AND CO. II85 WASHINGTON STREET. 1844, . Entered according: to act of Congress, in the year 1843, By T. H. Carter & Company, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachu- setts. boston: feinted by freeman and bolles, washington street. CONTENTS The Deaf and Dumb Boy. — Translated from the Italian, for the Annualette ... 13 Charade, No. 1 21 The Little Boat Builder. With an Engraving 22 The Nightingale and Bulfinch, or the Travel- ling Birds 30 Social Games, No. I. The Bunch .of Fagots 34 The Dutch Sailors and the Bears ... 36 Cowardice magnifies Danger ... 44 Charade, No. II 45 The Linnet's Nest ...... 46 Charade, No. Ill 48 The Shepherd's Dog. With a Cut . • 51 ";>- Charade, No. IV 58 • * Franklin Place, Boston. With a wood Cut . 59 *-» The Juvenile Court Room .... 65 f\ Charade, No. V 84 Xll CONTENTS. The Travelled Mouse 85 Perdita, or the Chinese Foundling. With a Cut 87 Charade, No. VI 98 Ice Palace 99 The Two Squirrels, or Division of Labor. With a Cut 105 The Laughing Princess, and the Princess who never Laughed 109 Izaac Walton. With a Cut .... 128 Social Games, No. II. The Glove . . 131 Bunker Hill Monument. With a Cut . . 132 The Good Aunt. With a Cut ... 137 Answers to the Charades in the Annualette for 1843 .... ... 143 THE DEAF AND DUMB BOY. ^TRAKSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN FOR THE AK>-UALETTE. France will long hold dear the memory of the Abbe de L'Epee, who was the first founder in Paris of the school for the deaf and dumb ; where those unhappy beings are awakened to a new existence, open their intellects to new ideas of the true and beautiful, to the know- ledge of their religious and social duties, and even succeed in acquainting themselves per- fectly with science and literature. It is related of this benevolent man, that one evening there was presented to him an un- known child, about eight years of age, deaf and dumb from his birth, found by the police guard sitting alone and weeping on the Pont Neuf, one of the bridges over the river Seine. . 1 14 THE DEAF AND DUMB BOY. Although the child was meanly dressed, yet his refined physiognomy, and a certain noble ex- pression of anger manifested in his looks and motions at seeing himself covered with rags, excited in the mind of de L'Epee a suspicion that he might belong to some wealthy family. The public papers announced the incident, but the child was claimed by no one, and continued to live in the school, under the name of Theo- dore. It is observed that nature, as if to render compensation to these unhappy beings for the wrongs which she has done them, has been pleased almost always to endow them with an exquisite penetration of intellect ; and Theo- dore, in fact, having hardly passed two years in study, was capable of understanding every- thing, and of communicating to others with ex- actness his own thoughts, by means of ges- tures, and in writing. It was then that his im- agination began to be strongly occupied with the remembrance of past things. In company with his master, he was walking one day before the Palace of Justice at the mo- ment when the President of the Tribunal was descending from his carriage. The boy was strongly affected at the sight of him, and made THE DEAF AND DUMB BOY. 15 his master understand that a man, clothed in a similar manner in a purple dress, and with long curling hair, had in forixier times often held him in his arms, and kissed him tenderly. The Abbe L'Epee judged, therefore, that he was either the son or a near relation of a magis- trate of superior rank, and therefore a native of one of the principal cities of the State. Another day, in a church in the Faubourg Saint Germain, Theodore saw the funeral of a rich man ; at this sight, his eyes filled with tears, and turning to his master, who demanded of him why he wept, he replied with signs as follows : " Four months before my departure for Paris, there was a similar funeral pomp at the death of that person who used to caress me so much ; and now such a pageant awakens anew in me my grief for his loss." This second indication made the Abbe be- hove that the boy was an orphan, the sole heir of great wealth, and that probably his grasping relations, abusing his infirmity, had transported him to a distant country, and even tried to de- stroy him, in order to take possession of his property. Such indications excited in the highest de- gree the courage and zeal of the Abbe, who 16 THE DEAF AND DUMB BOY. from this time conceived the generous project of leaving no means untried to discover the. origin of the treachery, to reconduct his pupil to his country, and reinstate him in his rights. But the name of his father and the place of his birth were things excessively difficult to dis- cover. Being certain, however, that Theodore would recognise the gate by which he had en- tered Paris, he took him the next morning round to all the gates of the city. When they arrived at the Porte de L'Enfer, Theodore showed in fact that he recognised it, and mo- tioned that there precisely he had been made to descend from the coach with the person who accompanied him to take care of the equipage ; and that he had arrived there after four days and four nights of continual travelling, and stopping from time to time to change horses. It was now evident that the country of Theo- dore was some city situated towards the south, probably about three hundred miles distant ; and that in order to discover it, instead of re- sorting to the uncertain medium of letters, it was best to undertake a journey on foot, and to visit all the principal southern cities. Therefore the good old Abbe, animated by the sweet hope of seeing fulfilled the generous THE DEAF AND DUMB BOY. 17 'desire of his heart, invoked the aid of God, the father and protector of oppressed innocence, and determined to undertake the journey in company with Theodore. Thirty days of trav- elling did not weary the constancy of the boy, who was strongly flattered and excited by the hope of again seeing the threshold of his pa- ternal home ; nor did it exhaust the firmness of the Abbe, who experienced the inexpressible, anticipated dehght which is ever the reward of virtue. Finally, they arrived at the gates of the city of Toulouse, entered, and at the sight of the ancient palace of the family of d'Ha- rancour, Theodore, intoxicated with joy, knelt down, raised his hands to Heaven, and with broken sobs made signs, that those walls were precisely the ones within which he was born, and where he had passed the first years of his childhood. L'Epee checked the first transports of The- odore, took pains to make all the necessary in- quiries, and learned that a certain Monsieur d'Arlemont possessed the vast property of d'Harancour, in place of his nephew and ward, Julius, whom an act apparently legal had declared to have died three years before in Paris. Behold in what manner eternal jus- r 18 THE DEAF AND DUMB BOY. tice watched over the punishment of the wick- ed, and discovered to the fortunate de L'Epee a crime which d'Arlemont judged to be buried in darkness, and concealed forever from the eyes of men. The cause of the betrayed orphan was trust- ed to the defence of Franval, one of the most able advocates of Toulouse ; and in company with him, the Abbe betook himself next morn- ing to the Palace of d'Harancour, with the in- tention of giving a sudden shock to the heart of the traitor, and of prevailing upon him, if possible, to restore the property, promising, in that case, to spare him the infamy of a public trial. Arrived in the presence of Monsieur d'Arle- mont, de L'Epee addressed him as follows ; " I come to execute the will of Providence, which has directed my steps to Toulouse, and even to you, to announce to you that your nephew and ward, Julius, the heir of d'Ha- rancour, still lives, and that I am his guardian, to protect him, and to assist him to resume the name and property so cruelly taken from him." The perfidious d'Arlemont, astounded by these words, was taken with a sudden trembling in all his limbs ; in vain he tried to conceal the ex- THE DEAF AND DUMB BOY. 19 cessive fright and rage painted on his brow ; but finally, forcing a smile, he exclaimed, " How ! my nephew yet lives ? when I was a witness three years ago of his death — when it has been announced to the tribunals by an au- thentic act — Oh ! you must be jesting ; this is some fable." " No," replied the venerable old man ; the disturbance which appeared on your counte- nance reveals to me sufficiently your heart. That act of death was false,' the tribunals were deceived, or seduced. Julius d'Harancour lives, and behold him before you ! " pointing to the boy, who had accompanied him. At that moment, Albert, the son of d'Arle- mont, entered the apartment, and having heard the last words of the Abbe, cried, "Ah yes! it is the same ; he lives; I see him — my dear Julius, my infant playmate ; " and the two boys ran into each other's arm.s, embraced each other, and wept for joy. Even Dominick and Marianna, two old servants of the family of d'Harancour, recognised the physiognomy of the youth whom they had so often caressed in infancy, and exclaimed, " A prodigy ! a mira- cle ! little Julius is living ! the son of our dead lord ! " 20 THE DEAF AND DUMB BOY. Deprived now of all means of defence, threatened with the vengeance of the laws, and tormented with his severe remorse, d'Arle- mont stood for a long time motionless, his eyes sparkling with fury, without uttering a word. " Great Heaven ! " at length he broke forth, with a deep sigh, " how terrible thou art in thy justice ! yes, let all know it, this is my nephew, and I am the most wicked of all living beings ! To him 1 restore all his possessions, and for myself, I only demand death, which will take me from my insupportable shame ! " At this moment, Julius, to whom de L'Epee signified the confession just obtained from his uncle, after an instant of consideration, turned an affectionate glance on Albert, approached a writing table, and wrote as follows : "I forget all past offences ; and I desire that my amiable cousin should have the half of the property which has just been restored to me ; we were accustomed from our earliest infancy to divide everything as brothers ; let us still be so for the future." " Ah," cried the Abbe de L' Epee, " behold a mind really virtuous ! this is the dearest re- ward that Julius could give me, in exchange for all that 1 have done for him ! " CHARADE. 21 It is needless to say that the property of d'Harancour was divided as Julius had pro- posed. D'Arlemont retired to a monastery, and soon after died ; while the excellent Abbe continued through life the dearest and most re- vered friend of his amiable young pupil. CHARADE. A noisy fellow is my F-irst, On wboni you never can depend, Sometimes his deeds are of the worst, Sometimes he proves your kindest friend. My SECO>fD, of the female race, Is young or old, is dull or witty, Is found in almost every place, In rural shade or crowded city. My Whole exerts a mighty power. Lifts monstrous weights of wood or stone. By land or sea can raise or lower. But never goes a step alone. THE LITTLE BOAT BUILDER. Henry lived near the sea shore — and he often went to the beach and watched the tide as it rolled in, wave after wave, or ebbed out, leav- ing a broad margin of smooth sand, which was hard and pleasant to walk upon. The view of the ocean, and of the ships and boats which sailed and floated upon it, gave Henry a great fancy for ship building. Ahnost the first use he made of his knife was to shape out a piece of wood in imitation of a ship, and smooth and fashion it all in order. His mother would cut and hem the sails according to his directions, and he was but too happy if after all his labors his little vessel would hold itself upright in the tub in which he first made trial of its power. His little brother would watch beside him while he was at his work, and not seldom would try his patience by the questions THE LITTLE BOAT BUILDER. 2S he would ask, as to why he was doing thus and so. But Henry was a very kind and patient boy, and generally answered his little brother very gently, and explained everything to him as well as he could. To be sure Willie on his part was often very useful to Henry. He was always ready to trot off to the house and get for his brother anything he might happen to want, and even felt proud of being sent of an errand and made useful. When Henry became older, he went as an apprentice to one of the dock yards to learn the art of ship building, which he had been so fond of as a boy. While thus employed, he would often in his leisure hours make little model ships to send home to his brother Willie. How much the little fellow used to admire them, and how completely they were all rigged. How even and straight they bore themselves upon the water, and what pleasure the broth- ers used to take when Henry would sometimes come home to visit his parents, in fitting out little fleets from the snug cove, where in their childhood they had loved to whittle and rig boats. Henry had often wished he could take a voy- age in one of the vessels which he had helped 24 THE LITTLE BOAT BUILDER. to build, but he knew it was best for him to remain steady to the trade he had chosen until he had finished the time of his apprenticeship, and then he hoped he might some time or other have an opportunity to go to sea. Just before Henry had reached the end of his apprenticeship, Mr. Stronghand, the ship builder with whom he was employed, received a proposal from the Sultan of Turkey to come out to Constantinople and build him a steam- boat. He had seen the English and American ships and steamboats, and he thought they were better than any he had in his service, and he should like to have some of the same kind. He offered Mr. Stronghand a very handsome sum of money for the service, and desired him to bring several hands with him, as the Turkish ship carpenters would not understand how to work under him. Mr. Stronghand thought the offer a good one, so he concluded to go. He left his business in America under the care of his partner, who was a very careful man, and he selected from among his workmen, several young men whom he considered as the most steady and skilful, to go with him. Among them was Henry. Henry was delighted that the wish of his THE LITTLE BOAT BUILDER. 25 heart was about to be accomplished. He went home to acquaint his parents and make his preparations for the voyage. Willie was very sorry to part with his brother, but he had now grown a stout lad, and was also just about going away to school. He had proved to be a very studious boy, and his parents had resolved to give him the best education they could. Henry promised to write to Willie and tell him all the strange things he met with in Turkey. After having his chest carefully packed, and taken leave of his parents and Willie, Henry returned to his master in New York, and in a few days they sailed for Constantinople, Mr, Stronghand taking with him a number of hands and all the tools necessary for ship-building. They had a pleasant, and tolerably rapid voyage, and in lime reached the City of the Sultans, as it is sometimes called. Constanti- nople is situated on the Bosphorus, at the point where it communicates with the Propontis, or Sea of Marmora, and is connected both with the Mediterranean and the Black Sea by a succession of straits, which can easily be de- fended against an enemy, though the largest kind of vessels can sail through them. They found the city had a spacious port. A conve- 2 26 THE LITTLE BOAT BUILDER. nient place near the city was given to Mr. Stronghand to begin to build his steam-ship, and orders were given by the Sultan to his offi- cers, to provide him with all the materials necessary. Henry was very much amused with a great deal he saw here. The dresses of the people were very different from those worn in Amer- ica. The men wore large turbans, or colored woollen caps upon their heads, and long loose robes hanging down to their feet. He would hardly have been able to tell a man from a woman, but that the men wore long beards, and the women did not appear in the streets without their veils. One night, soon after they arrived at Con- stantinople, the Americans were awakened by the cries of fire, and they soon perceived by the light that a great many houses were in flames. They dressed themselves and hastened to the spot. The scene was terrible ! whole streets were in a blaze, and the drums were beating, from the tops of the minarets or steeples of the Turkish places of worship, and immense numbers of people were assembled. They saw even the Sultan himself there. As most of the houses in the quarter where the THE LITTLE BOAT BUILDEK. 27 fire was, were of wood, they were soon burned down, and the people dispersed. The streets were immediately after built up in just the same way they were before, and of just as combusti- ble materials, and nobody seemed to think much about it. Henry found they had these great fires very often, and the people did not seem to mind them very much. The Sultan came very often to see how his ship came on, and seemed very much pleased with the way the Americans went to work. One day he brought with him his son, about twelve years old. The little fellow was looking round as children are apt to do, and he espied a little ship, which Henry had amused himself in making in his leisure hours. He showed it to his father, and Mr. Stronghand explained that it was the work of his apprentice, who bid fair to make an excellent ship builder. The Sultan desired Mr. Stronghand to allow Henry, to finish the ship, and said he should like to purchase it when completed, for his son. Mr. Stronghand and Henry readily consented, and the Sultan desired that when it was finished Henry should be allowed to bring the little vessel to the palace, and explain to his son the best method of working it. 28 THE LITTLE BOAT BUILDER. It may well be supposed that Henry spared no trouble to fiaish off his little vessel in the nicest manner. When it was done, Mr. Strong- hand acquainted the Sultan with the fact, and some slaves were sent by him to accompany the young apprentice in his visit to the palace. The Sultan was then passing a few days at one of his houses of pleasure, situated near the Sweet Waters. It was a most delightful spot, and on one of the clear basins with which the grounds were ornamented, the little boy sailed his miniature frigate with the greatest delight. The Sultan treated Henry with great kind- ness, ordered him to be conducted to every part of the grounds and rooms of this beautiful palace, feasted him with the greatest delicacies, and when he dismissed him made him a most valuable present, in return for the little vessel. Henry afterwards went to visit all the most celebrated places in Constantinople. He ex- amined the mosque of St. Sophia, which was first built for a christian church, but since the city has been in the hands of the Turks, it is used as a mosque, or Mahometan place of worship. He also visited the Turkish burying grounds, which are laid out in a somewhat different THE LITTLE BOAT BUILDER. 29 manner from ours. They ai'e shaded by cypress trees, and the monuments are generally a column of marble, with a turban on the top. He saw the slave market, where slaves of all races, complexions, sexes and ages, are brought in from different parts of the world, and offered for sale. These slaves have gen- erally received some education- The young girls have been taught to dance, sing, or play on some instrument, and to embroider. The boys are educated with still more care. They sometimes rise to become great personages in the state, for the prejudice against people who have once been slaves, does not exist among the Mahomedans as strongly as it does among some other people. The son-in-law of the Sultan Mahmoud, was formerly a slave. In due time Mr. Stronghand finished his steam-ship, and delivered it over, all in good order to the Sul- tan, who was very much pleased with it. He wished very much to induce Mr. Stronghand and his workmen to remain in Turkey, and promised them constant employment and good wages, but they loved their own country, and did not wish to pass their days among Turks and Mahometans. So they excused themselves as well as they 2* 30 THE NIGHTINGALE AND BULFINCH. could to the Sultan, who paid Mr. Stronghand handsomely for the job. The Americans then took passage in a ship sailing for Boston, where they arrived safely. And Henry had a great deal to tell in the long winter evenings to his parents, and to Willie, of the wonders he had seen in Constantinople. After he finished his apprenticeship, Mr. Stronghand received Hen- ry as a partner, and he became in time one of the most skilful and wealthy ship builders in the country. THE NIGHTINGALE AND BULFINCH, OR THE TRAVELLING BIRDS. [See Frontispiece.] A Bulfinch and Nightingale lately resolved To take an Atlantic excursion, To cross over from Europe, America see, In search both of health and diversion. Fanny Kemble they knew went some time ago, Since then, ladies and men quite a score ; And Boz and his wife, last year made a trip, And America tried to explore. THE NIGHTINGALE AND BULFTNCH. 31 So the Bulfinch and Nightingale soon were prepared, They thought not of Steam Ship or Packet ; Their own wings would bear them, for nothing they cared, But flew high above all noise and racket. They flew and they flew till they came to the isles Named after their friends the Canaries ; They were pleased with the climate, here all nature smiles, Though elsewhere she has her vagaries. Having rested their wings, again they took flight, And westward directed their way, And at last reached the land ; on a tree they alight In a wood, just at breaking of day. Here numbers of birds were seen flying about, No appearance of trouble or dangers. But presently came some confusion and rout As to how they should welcome the strangers. They escorted them first to the pleasantest tree, They prepared a most delicate nest ; There was nought left undone, and no cost the birds spared To give them of all things the best. There was calling, inviting, in motion were all The birds both below and above — And after due warning, the strangers appeared At a musical fete in the grove. ■32 THE NIGHTINGALE AND EULFINCH. The dress of the Bulfinch at once struck all eyes ; What a glorious red on his breast, What a glossy black head, what a handsome gay back, Of the two he must sure sing the best. At the Nightingale's dress in a whisper they scoffed, *' What a dowdy detestable thing." But they welcomed them both, and due compliments over, They asked Mr. Bulfinch to sing. He whistled and piped his monotonous note, A duller one never was heard. You really might think him just clearing his throat ; They 'd have laughed if they could, every bird. The sweet modest Nightingale silent sat by, While the Bulfinch piped loudly and long. For civility's sake they then asked her to try. Perhaps she would give them a song. Mrs. Nightingale blushed, but she just cleared her throat. And then such a strain she poured out. That all whispers were silenced, and charmed with each note, All the birds clustered thickly about. Little Mary who lay on the grass in the grove,. Raised her eyes from her book at the sound. With delight how she listened, and not a bird moved Though they filled all the branches around. THE NIGHTINGALE AND BULFINCH. 33 When the Nightingale brought her sweet song to a close, How eager in praise were the birds. What beautiful notes ! how delicious the strain ! For their transports they long to find words. " I give you my counsel," said grave Madam Owl, " And would gladly my lesson impress, " Your judgment don't form without time to inquire, " And don't place too much value on dress." Fine feathers I 've found don't make always fine birds ; Dress is not the principal thing. Better judge of a man by his actions and words, And a bird by the notes she can sing. SOCIAL GAMES. — No. I. THE BUNCH OF FAGOTS. For this game there should be an even number of ladies and gentlemen. Each gentleman places a lady before him and each couple forms a bunch of fagots. These fagots ar- range themselves in a circle, which must be so large that it is easy to pass about in it. One lady, designated by lot, is the wood-cutter, and a gentleman, drawn in the same manner, is the keeper of the forest. The wood-cutter, pur- sued by the keeper, has a right to go across the circle of fagots, in any direction ; while the pursuer can only go round — she generally however does not remain long in this confined place, but runs before the keeper. If the lady wood -cutter allows herself to be caught by her pursuer, she takes his place, and is obliged to pursue in her turn another person ; and this person is the first who finds SO'CIAL GAMES. 35 herself on the outside of the bunch of fagots before which the keeper, who is no longer one, has placed himself; for there must never be three in one row. Thus, the lady who is pur- sued, to avoid being caught, has only to place herself before one of the bunches of fagots within the circle, anywhere she may please, and immediately the person who finds herself last, must make her escape and become the wood-cutter. This change of places is con- stantly renewed, and makes the game animated and lively. It is to be observed, that a lady can only be replaced by a lady, and a gentle- man by a gentleman, every bunch of fagots being com.posed of two persons of different sexes. If the new runner is caught, he must pursue the person by whom he has been taken, but, as has been explained, the latter has the resource of placing herself behind one of the fagots, which gives a new supernumerary, who is obliged to fly precipitately like the first, and so on. It is sometimes practised to make those who are caught pay forfeits, but this causes the game to go on more slowly. THE DUTCH SAILORS AND THE BEARS. In the month of May, in the year 1596, two Dutch vessels left the port of Vlie, in the north of Holland, to seek a north-east passage to the East Indies, under the command of two expe- rienced mariners, William Barenz, and John Cornelius Rip. On the first of July the two ships parted company, each to go a different way in order to make discoveries. That commanded by Ba- renz, after two months of highly dangerous navigation, in the midst of the ice, having been carried beyond New Zealand without finding an open passage, the crew lost all hope of pen- etrating farther, and thought of nothing but going back to Holland. One night, however, the vessel was surprised by an ice port, and was so enclosed on all DUTCH SAILOHS AND THE BEARS. 37 sides, that no human efforts could liberate them. Barenz was then reduced to the sad prospect of passing the winter in this region of horror. The first part of September, the vessel being besieged and pressed on all sides by the move- ments of the icebei'gs, cracked in several places, and was no longer a secure residence for the crew. It was resolved to drag the boat on shore, and they carried there in succession the casks of bread and wine, an old foresail, some powder, shot, guns, muskets and other arms, in order to make a tent near the boat. On the seventh some sailors having gone a considerable distance into the country, discov- ered a fresh water river, and some drift wood which had been floated down upon it. They came also to traces of Reindeer. This infor- mation was the more agreeable to the crew from the fact that their fresh water was almost exhausted, and they had began to dread that they should suffer terribly in being shut into a place where they saw neither trees nor water. They began to build a sledge to bring down the wood which the sailors had seen, and which had apparently descended from Tartary or Moscow. 3 38 DUTCH SAILOKS AND THE BEARS.' On the fifteenth, while they were hard at work, a sailor saw three bears of different sizes, the smallest of which remained behind a block of ice, the others continued to advance. The crew fired, and one of the large bears fell down dead. The second seemed to show sur- prise ; he looked proudly at his companion, he smelted of him, and, as if he perceived the danger, he retraced his steps. By direction of Barenz they opened the dead bear, removed the entrails, and placed him on his four legs that he might freeze in this posi- tion, intending to carry him to Holland if they could succeed in disengaging their vessel from the ice. On the twenty-fifth they had the mis- fortune to lose their carpenter, who was buried in a cleft in the mountain ; they were not able to open the hard frozen earth to dig a grave for him. The whole crew consiste,d of only sixteen men, several of whom were sick. On the twenty-seventh it froze so hard that if one put a nail in his mouth he could not draw it out without bringing the skin along with it. On the second of October they had the satisfaction of seeing their hut finished. Until the twenty- fifth of October they were employed in getting DUTCH SAILORS AND THE BEARS. 39 from the ship the remainder of their provisions. The next day as they were employed in trans- porting their rigging on the sledges, Barenz raised his eyes and saw behind the ship three bears, who were advancing toward the sailors. He gave a loud shout in which the sailors join- ed him, but the three animals did not appear to be alarmed. The sailors then all thought of how they should defend themselves. They had two hal- berds, Barenz took one, and Girard Veer the other. The sailors ran to the vessel, but in passing over the ice one of them fell into a crack. This accident made them tremble for him ; they did not doubt he would be the first devoured. The bears meantime followed those who were running to the ship. On the other side Barenz and Veer made the circuit of it to enter behind. On reaching it they had the joy to see all their people there with the exception of the man who had fallen in the crack. The furious animals now presented them- selves to board the vessel after them, and could only be stopped at first by the pieces of wood and different utensils that they hastened to throw at their heads, and at which they sprung each time as a dog runs after a stone that is 40 DUTCH SAILORS AND THE BEARS. thrown him. They had nothing on board but the two halberds ; they wished to fire a gun, light a fire, attempt to burn some handsful of powder, but in the confusion and terror they could accomplish nothing which they under- took. Meantime the bears kept returning to the as- sault with the same fury, and utensils and wood to throw at them began to fail. The Dutch- men finally owed their preservation only to a fortunate chance, or, we should say, a kind Providence. Barenz in his extremity consult- ing his despair rather than his prudence, threw his halberd, which struck violently on the muz- zle of the largest bear. The animal was ap- parently so wounded that he retreated with a loud cry, and the two others, who were much smaller, followed him immediately, though with a slow pace. We cannot tell all the dangers with which they were threatened, the most terrible of which was the want of food. They took an account of the bread which remained. The stock of dried fish and meat were still abundant, but their wine began to fail, and what beer remained had lost its strength. They took some foxes, which now showed DUTCH SAILORS AND THE BEARS. 41 themselves, instead of the bears, who retired with the sun and did not reappear until his return. The months of February and March, and the fifteen first days of April, were alternately fair and foul weather, mists and frosts, terror at sight of the bears, and pleasure after they had killed them. The sixth of April, a bear came down to the door of the hut ; it was open, but they succeeded in closing it and holding it fast. But he came back in about two hours, and climb- ed up on the roof, where he made a noise, at which they were all alarmed ; his efforts to break down the chimney were so great, that more than once they thought he was master of the passage. He tore the sail with which the roof was covered, and finally went away, after having done considerable damage. The rigor of the weather having ceased on the fifteenth of April, all the Dutchmen went to visit their ship, and their joy was extreme to find it in the state in which they had left it. The next day they observed, in the distance, that the ice was breaking up ; some of the men had the boldness to get upon the blocks of ice, and to pass from one to the other, until they reached the water, which they had not seen for 42 DUTCH SAILORS AND THE BEARS. six months. On reaching it, they saw a little bird, which immediately plunged into the water, which led them to believe that the sea was more open than it had been since their abode in Nova Zembla. In May, the ice having been moved by a north-east wind, they employed themselves in putting the vessel and the little fishing-boat in a state to take their departure. While they were at work, a frightful bear made his appear- ance. The poor sailors immediately entered their hut, and the most skilful marksmen distri- buted themselves at the three doors, awaiting him with their guns ; another, also armed, mounted the chimney. ^he bear marched proudly toward the hut ; a musket-shot knocked him over, and they soon succeeded in killing him. On the thirtieth, all those who were able to work on the boats were employed upon them diligently, and the others were mending the sails or making in the hut such preparations as were necessary before their departure. The sailors on the outside were busily engaged, when a bear came boldly up to them. All took flight toward the hut ; the bear followed them, but a salute of three guns, which all hit, stretched him dead on the snow. DUTCH SAILORS AND THE BEARS. 43 This meat cost them dear, however, for hav- ing cut up the, animal, and cooked the liver, which they ate, they were all made sick by it. After a few days, all of them having recov- ered their health, they continued their labor, and on the fourteenth of June the two vessels were in a state to set sail. But before leaving the ice, they had still great suffering to endure. One day, they came from the fishing-boat to the larger vessel, to inform Barenz that one of the men was dying. My dying hour, said Ba- renz, is not far off. His people, who saw him looking attentively at a chart, could not sup- pose he was ill. But soon, laying down the map, he said that his strength failed him, after which he rolled his eyes, and without adding a word expired. This loss and that pf the sailor plunged the survivors in consternation. There were now only thirteen in the two vessels. On the first of November, after a series of misfortunes, these poor people reached Hol- land. Their arrival at Amsterdam created great astonishment, as it had been supposed they were lost. They were received with transport by their friends, and their courage and the singularity of their adventures was everywhere praised and admired. COWARDICE MAGNIFIES DANGER. A wolf came prowling down the hill. " Up shepherd, rouse tbe sleeping hound, Your master's flock the beast will kill, The timid sheep all cluster round.'' The coward shepherd leaves the flock, And to a place of safety creeps. The trembling dogs, a dastard stock, Not one his watchful station keeps. The wolf appeared, death dealing round, And many a sheep that day expired, The living, wounded lay around. With plunder gorged the wolf retired. "When the dire slaughter all was done, The coward shepherd came again. "How could you leave us thus," cries one Of the few sheep which still remain ! CHARADE. 45 The shepherd said, "I wished to stay, But then the wolf, I know not how. Looked large," " Indeed how large ? Pray say," Said a young lamb. " Big as a cow." The wounded animals cried " Fie, What trifles cowards can alarm ye." How fears our foes may magnify, A wolf a cow, ten men an army. CHARADE. When moved by terror or by cold, You sometimes do my First, And oftener when to western climes Your health and hopes you trust. When ancient heroes met for war, They used my sturdy Second ; But now for taking harmless fish More useful it is reckoned. My Whole no longer lives and breathes. But still his words have power To wake the deepest springs of grief, Or cheer the saddest hour. THE LINNET'S NEST. BUILD NEITHER TOO HIGH NOR TOO LOW. A Linnet trained with care and love, The parent birds' delight, His youthful wings had dared to prove, And taken his first liight. His wings were strong, his eye was clear, Mature he had become ; He looked about, a spot to find, Where he should place his home. A lofty oak he first espied, And mid its noble shade A well formed nest he built with pride, And there his dwelling made. THE linnet's nest. 47 But soon the storms and rains come on, The furious tempests blow, The lightnings blast the sturdy oak, The Linnet's nest lies low. But luckily indeed for him On that eventful day, Young Linnet had a visit made. And lingered on the way. When he returned the ruined oak All shattered met his eye, And his poor nest, all torn and broke. Proved he had built too high. He next time chose a humble spot, And in the grass built low — Yet here he found both dust and worms. And feared the scythe's dread blow. Linnet removed and placed his nest In a thick hedge's shade, Not proudly mounting to the clouds Nor at the bottom laid. And in this quiet shady spot Contentedly he lives, A mate and young ones cheer his lot, And he for nothing grieves. 48, CHARADE. And happy days and peaceful nights Young man wouldst thou secure, Shun lowest depths and loftiest heights, The middle is most sure. CHARADE. When Nancy more refined had grown, My First she called her name. And such a simple change as this, No one could surely blame. But " Give an inch, they take an ell," A truth was always reckoned, And Nancy proves the maxim well, Her name is now my Second. My Whole, a juicy pleasant fruit. Near the warm tropic grows. By this time you have guessed its name, Which every body knows. THE SHEPHERD'S DOG. In countries where large flocks of sheep are kept, dogs are of very great vakie. They give great help to the shepherds, and often lend them more assistance than many men or boys could do. They soon come to know all the sheep belonging to the flock to which they be- long, and in case of the absence of the shep- herd, will collect and house them with great care. Many stories are told of the sagacity of dogs ; we collect a few of them for the readers of the Annualette, and present them with a picture of a fine animal of the breed used by shepherds to assist them in the care of their sheep. A gentleman who occupied a farm in a remote district of Scotland, had a dog of the genuine colly, or shepherd's breed, named Gashkan, which means a hero, or my hero. This dog 4 52 THE shepherd's dog. attached himself to one of the men employed about the farm, who was married and lived in a house by himself, not boarding regularly in the farmer's family, though he often dined with his work-people by invitation, and when that was the case his dog Gashkan always ac- companied his master. Gashkan was an observing dog, and he soon found out when dinner was ahnost ready. When it was nearly time to call in the people, a large pot of broth was set down on the hearth, and a long table was laid. Then the dairy- maid gave a loud call at the door, which was answered by the men from the fields, and while they were on their way in, she made every- thing ready for them. The men knew by the shadows on the moun- tains, and perhaps too by their own appetites, when the time drew near, and if one of them grew impatient, he would say, "Go, Gashkan, see if the dinner be ready." Gashkan would set off in a minute, ii', on looking in at the door, he saw the pot on the hearth and the ta- ble spread, he ran back very fast, licked his lips, wagged his tail, and frisked about his master ; but if he saw no preparation in the kitchen, he went slowly back with his tail and THE shepherd's DOG. 53 ears drooping, and when asked if dinner was ready, slunk sheepishly behind his master. A little dog, Mho was much attached to a young lady in the family in wliich she lived, and who was no great favorite with any other member of the household, when her young protector was absent for a day or more, left the house and went to make a visit to a domes- tic in the family of an elder sister of the young lady, where she was always kindly received, and where she would pass the day and return quietly home at night. This method of passing the time during the absence of her friend she repeated several times. A poor w^oman in one of the towns near Boston, lived, some years since, in a small house situated at a distance from any public road. She had a sick husband and several small children, and was not always very well provided with the necessaries of life. A very violent snow storm, which continued for seve- ral days, banked up the poor woman's house, and made it impossible for her to go herself or send one of her children to the nearest neigh- bor, which was about a quarter of a mile across the fields, to ask for some supplies of food. At last she wrote a note to her neighbor, telling 54 THE shepherd's DOG. her wants, and, tying it round the neck of a large dog who made one of her httle house- hold, she took him to the door, opened it, and pointed to the house where she wished him to go. Her faithful friend plunged through the snow and reached the house, and did not cease from his exertions until he had attracted the at- tention of some of the family, who untied the note from his neck. On learning the wants of the poor woman, they filled a basket with such articles as she needed, and the dog trotted gaily along by the side of the man who went through the snow to take this welcome supply to the suffering family. Sir Walter Scott, in his beautiful poem of Hellvellyn, celebrates the faithfulness of a dog whose body was found stretched by the side of his dead master, a young man, who had been seen travelling in the mountain country, ac- companied by a little dog. It was supposed the young man had perished in the mountain region from fatigue or some accident, as, some time after he had been seen with the dog, his body was found, and the skeleton of his faithful friend, the dog, close beside him. A Newfoundland dog, one of that race who are fond of the water, belonged, some years THE SnEPIIERD's DOG. 55 since, to the captain of a ship which was lest near Yarmoalh, England. The dog escaped from the wreck, and brought in his mouth the captain's pocket-book. He landed amid a number of persons, several of whom in vain endeavored to take it from him. The saga- cious animal seemed as if he knew that what he had was very valuable — it had probably been given him by his dying master. At length he leaped fawningly against the breast of a man who had attracted his notice among the crowd, and delivered the pocket-book to him. The dog immediately returned to the place where he had landed, and watched whh great attention for everything that came from the wrecked vessel, seizing hold of the articles and trying to bring them to land. It is said that, some years ago, when the church of St. Paul's in London was undergoing some repairs, a favorite dog followed its mas- ter up the dark stairs to the dome of the build- ing. Here, all at once, it w^as missing, and calling and whistling did no good. Nine weeks after this, some glaziers were at work in the cathedral, and heard among the timbers, which support the dome, a faint noise. Thinking it mij^ht be some unfortunate human being, they 4* 56 THE shepherd's dog. tied a rope round a boy, and let him down near the place whence the sound came. At the bottom he found a dog lying on its side, and an old shoe half eaten. The humanity of the boy led him to rescue the dog from its miserable situation, and it was accordingly drawn up, much emaciated and hardly able to stand. The workmen placed it in the porch of the church, to die or live, as it might happen. This was about ten o'clock in the morning. Some time after, the dog was seen endeavoring to cross over the street, but its weakness was so great, that as there was no wall to support it, it could not succeed. The miserable appearance of the dog again excited the compassion of a boy, who carried it over. By the help of the houses, against which it could lean, it proceeded along the street and over two narrow crossings, and at about eight o'clock in the evening it reached its master's house in Red Lion street, and laid itself down on the steps, having been ten hours on its journey from St. Paul's to that place. The dog was so much altered, the eyes being sunk in the head so as to be scarcely discerni- ble, that his master did not at first suppose him to be his faithful companion. The first indica- tion it gave of knowing its master was by wag- THE shepherd's DOG. 57 ging its tail at the name of Phillis. For a long time it was unable to eat and drink, and it was kept alive by the food it received from its mis- tress, who used to feed it with a teaspoon ; and by her care it finally recovered. Men and women, and boys and girls may take pattern by the patience and faithful attach- ment of dogs, and they should always take care to treat kindly these animals, and never teaze and torment them, as is sometimes done by cruel or thoughtless persons. CHARADE. M'y Ffrst is attendant on Kings and on Queens, And figures in splendor and yoiitli ; It also speaks wisdom, and tells poets' dreams, Tlie doctrines of falsehood or truth. My Second, though small, teaches lessons to man, And in scripture is used as a text. It minds its own business, works steadily on, With tlie cares of the world unperplexed. My Whole may be bright, though it often is sad. True or false, loud or still, grave or gay. The great love its splendor, but plain people still Prefer to keep out of its way. FRANKLIN PLACE — BOSTON. Little Agnes sat at the window of one of the houses which look out upon the pleasant green spot, which is fenced in and shaded by trees, in the middle of Franklin Place, in Boston. To those who are i;:.Licquainted with the spot, the wood-cut, which accompanies this story, will give a very good idea of the place. There are many flowering shrubs in this lit- tle enclosure, and as it was the season of blos- soms, the air came in at the window where Agnes was sitting, perfumed with the flowers, and she enjoyed her view of the little garden very much. Soon the sky became clouded over, a gust of wind swept by, the little shrubs and branches bent as if they would break off, the flower leaves fell fast ; presently the sharp lightning appeared, theii the distant rumbling thunder. 60 FRANKLIN PLACE. Again and again came the sharp bright light- ning, and between the shocks it was so dark that Agnes could hardly see to thread her nee- dle. The rain came pouring down, and spat- tered in at the window in such a manner that Agnes was obliged to draw down the glass. " How I hate thunder showers," cried she ; " they compel one to shut the window, and put an end to all one's enjoyment in the blossoms. I do not see what good they ever do." " They certainly do good, by making the air pure and clear," said her mother ; " and I believe if the old story is true, if it had not been for a thunder storm, we might never have had this pretty green spot in front of our house." " Why, what had a thunder shower to do with the glass plat there," asked Agnes ; " pray tell me, mother, for next to smelling the blos- soms, I think hearing an old story is one of the most agreeable things." " I recollect," replied her mother, " hearing an old lady, who was pretty accurate in her facts, say, that, some sixty or seventy years ago, when Boston was not nearly as large as it is now, there was a house standing in Summer street, about where the new buildings are now going up, which had a garden running quite FRANKLIN PLACE. 61 back into the Place which is now occupied by the houses in Franklin street. " It was a very pretty garden; and, at the lower part of it, where this grass-plat now is, was a fish-pond, filled with gold and silver fishes. All the banks of the pond were orna- mented with flowering shrubs, and it was a pleasant sight to see the little gold and silver fish jump up to catch the crumbs of bread which the children would throw into the pond. " One night there came a' very severe storm of rain, with thunder and lightning ; the light- ning was very sharp, and struck the pond. The next morning all the little fishes were found dead, and the springs which supplied the pond with water were so affected by the shock, that the water ran away and the pond never filled again, but remained a disagreeable, marshy spot. " As this part of the garden was so much injured, the owner resolved not to attempt to restore it to its former state ; but he sold it to some gentlemen, who formed an association, and built, in a sort of partnership, all the build- ings on the south side, from what is now Haw- ley street, to the Catholic church. These were called the Tontine Buildings. 63 FRANKLIN PLACE. " To make these houses pleasant, they laid out this little garden in the middle, planted trees, and placed in the centre a monument in memory of Benjamin Franklin, who was a very wise man, you know, and who had done a great deal to benefit his native town. In time, the houses on the opposite side were built, and it has always remained a very pleasant street." " I dare say," said Agnes, " that when it first happened the people thought it was a sad thing, and that nothing could ever take the place of the fish pond, which would be half so pretty." " Very likely, my dear ; and perhaps this little account of the fish pond and thunder storm, may make you not only more reconcil- ed to a shower which sometimes compels you to shut the window, but may lead you to think, that even the things, which, at the time, seem most disagreeable and unfortunate, may in the end turn out pleasant and useful. You must always bear in mind, that nothing happens by chance, but that the same good God who sup- plies you with everything you enjoy, also or- ders and permits, for some wise purpose, which you cannot, to be sure, always see clearly, all you suffer." THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM, After the investigation respecting the break- ing of the receiver of Dr. Johnson's air pump, some account of which was given in the annals of the Juvenile Court Room contained in the Annualette for eighteen hundred and forty- three, the school at X, both in the male and female department, remained very quiet. Miss Bridge and Master Pelham, who it will be recollected were convicted, on strong circum- stantial evidence, and finally on their own con- fession of the offence, had fulfilled the sentence of the court, a new receiver to the air pump had been procured, the parrot had recovered her equanimity, and things all went on for some time in a very satisfactory manner both to teachers and pupils. It was therefore not without astonishment 5 66 THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. that the boys one day heard Dr. Johnson an- nounce, at the end of the regular school exer- cises, that an occurrence had happened which would render it necessary that a sitting of the Juvenile Court should be held. He appointed the next Wednesday afternoon for the session, and requested the young men to select the judges and other officers of the court, and also to choose a committee of six to wait on Mrs. Meredith, the head of the female department of the school, and to request her with her pu- pils and assistant teachers to be present at the trial. Great consultation took place among the boys respecting the cause of this proceedinv;. Nothing remarkable had taken place in the school, at least nothing that was generally known, and as to those who had been con- cerned in any secret mischief, their con- sciences probably accused them, but they took care to give no intimations of what they really knew. Wednesday afternoon came, — the hall of justice was arranged in the usual order. Seats were placed for Dr. Johnson and the other teachers, with the pupils of the boys' school on one side, and for Mrs. Meredith with THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. 67 her assistants and pupils on the other. Master John Marshall, William Parsons and James Sedgwick were placed in the judge's seat, and a number of young gentlemen stood ready to act as counsel to defend any one who should be accused. Master Erskine, the School Attorney, then stepped forward and said that an unpleasant af- fair had happened in the neighborhood of their institution, and that some of the sufferers from it felt disposed to attribute the blame to members of the school at X. Though in all institutions as large as this was, and made up as all schools were, of young people of various ages, the moral education of some of whom seemed some- times to have been neglected, yet he was very unwilling to believe that any one who had en- joyed, if only for a short time, the advantages of the excellent instruction which was given at X, should be guilty of the terrible crime with which they were charged, which was nothing else than burglary in the night time in the house of Mr. Theodosius Androscoggin ! At the declaration of such a horrible offence a shudder passed through the whole circle of young people, and an involuntary murmur of " Oh, no," passed round the court room. The 68 THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. judge desired the sheriff to keep order in the court, and the sight of his long white pole, im- mediately checked this involuntary ebullition of feeling. The Attorney then called his principal wit- ness. Attorney. What is your name ? Witness. Theodosius Androscoggin. Attorney. What is your business ? Here the witness hesitated, but at last ex- plained that he did not now carry on any very active business ; he had formerly been em- ployed as a travelling merchant, but he had of late years retired from that occupation, and lived in a small house, an end of which and the garden belonging to it stretched along by the side of the principal building of Dr. John- son's school. Attorney. Please to state, Mr. Androscoggin, what happened at your house on the evening of August olst, that is the Wednesday of last week. Witness. May it please your honor and this very honorable court, I had just retired to rest at about the hour of nine o'clock. I generally retire early, having been taught in my youth by a worthy aunt of mine, who was a pattern THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. 69 of vigilance and industry, that little couplet, beginning " early to bed " — Attorney. The witness will please to confine himself to a simple relation of the events which took place on the evening of the 31st, any allu- sion to his own domestic habhs or those even of a revered relation are uncalled for on this oc- casion. Witness. Well sir, then, as I w^as saying, I had gone to bed about nine o'clock. Perhaps it may not be out of the way for me to men- tion that my sleeping apartment is in a quarter of the house which extends in the form of a bow out into the garden. That directly in front of the window which forms the part of the room extending farthest into the garden, stands a fine peach tree, which on that evening was full of ripe peaches. [Here the witness hand- ed in a plan of the garden, the bow window and the peach tree. This plan also exhibited a wing of Dr. Johnson's school, which ran along beside the garden, and some windows of which overlooked it very closely.] The plan here passed round the judges' bench, and from them into other parts of the room. The witness resumed his testimony. Well, gentlemen and ladies, as I observed, I 70 THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. went to bed about nine o'clock and had just fallen into my first sleep, which, as my aunt used to say, is always the soundest, " Theodo, my dear," she used to say to me, " be sure ^''ou do not walk over my head hard just as I get into my first sleep, for if one gets waked up from their first sleep it seems as if — Attorney. The witness must confine him- self to the relation of the events of the 31st — it is an insult to this respectable court to detain it with such reminiscences. Witness. I again beg the pardon of the court, but if you had only known my aunt. But, as I was saying, I had just got into my first sleep, when crash, I was awaked by a most terrible noise, the upper part of the window fell in, and after it came tumbling a great stout boy — man I might call him — I immediately began to cry " fire, murder, thieves, help," and make all sorts of noise, when another boy jumped in at the window, and both of them seized me with the most terrific gripe and told me to lie down on my bed and not speak a word till I had counted three hundred, for if I moved or stirred before that time there were six stout men on the balcony outside the win- dow with guns loaded with four bullets each. THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. 71 who would immediately all let loose their pieces upon me. They then quietly opened the door of the bed room, walked down the stairs, opened the front door and went out of the house closing the door after them. I lay trembling in my bed until I had first reckoned how many bullets would enter my poor body if all the six men fired each his four bullets. This, as your honor will perceive, would have been twenty- four bullets ; I then counted my three hundred, and then rising from my bed went to the win- dow. It was so broken that I could step directly out on the balcony ; there was no one there ; the six gunners, if they had been there, were gone, and I began to suspect that the lads had not spoken the truth when they stated that they were there. Attorney. Were there any unusual appear- ances about the balcony } Witness. Yes your honor, the peach tree was broken down, a great many of the peaches scattered on the balcony, and a large sheet lay spread over the branches which had the ap- pearance of having been gathered up and tied by the four corners. 72 THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. Attorney. Do you know who the lads were who entered your apartment in this unceremoni- ous way ? Witness. No sir, I do not, I had an im- pression at the time that they were young men belonging to this school, and I think so now, but when I look round upon the vast number of young gentlemen here I find it utterly impossi- ble to identify either as the ci^iminal. Attorney. What are your reasons for fixing such an imputation on the young men of the seminary, and what reasons could they have for entering your room in such an unceremoni- ous way ? Wit7iess. Why your honor, I am a poor man as your honor knows, but people will insist on calling me rich, and for these reasons they declare a few boxes which I have piled in my room and which only contain some trifling articles, they declare that these boxes are filled with gold pieces, absurd as is the idea of a poor man like me hoarding gold, yet knowing that some people believe I do, I imagined these young men might be of the number, and have some idea of getting a little pocket money ; my house too is so near the school that the young men there were the first people I thought of. THE JUVENILE COURT ROOxH. 73 Attorney. Did you preserve the sheet that you found hanging on the tree ? Witness. I did sir. Attorney. Let it be produced in the court. A messenger was immediately despatched who returned with the sheet, which proved to be one of stout Russia linen ; on examination a mark was discovered in the corner bearing the letters X School, No. 44. When this fact was announced a murmur of surprise, with expressions of mortification and regret, passed round the assembly. The attorney then asked permission to sum- mon as a witness the chambermaid who had charge of the sheets of the establishment. Amy Linden appeared. She had the charge of the bed linen of the establishment at X. Attorney. Do you remember hearing of a sheet having been missed from the establish- ment lately ? Amy. On the morning of the first of Sep- tember the chambermaid came to me for a sheet saying that one had disappeared from one of the rooms in the north wing, as it was not the regular day for giving out sheets and as I thought it might have been mislaid by her own carelessness (or that of the lads) I declined 74 THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. giving her one, but told her she must find out what had become of the other. Ansiess Plumer^ the chambermaid, was called and asked from what room in the north wing the sheet had disappeared on the morning of the 1st. She gave the number as 28. The list of the bed rooms, on which was recorded the numbers of the rooms and the names of the young m.en who occupied them was handed into the court and read, and the occupants of the room, No. 28, which contained two beds, proved to be James Williams, John Dobbin, Henry Overlook, and Horatio Nelson. These four young men were then summoned and asked if they could give any reason why a sheet from their apartment should have been found on Mr. Androscoggin's peach tree, and if they heard any commotion under their win- dow on the evening of the 31st. James Williams^ the largest of the boys, un- dertook to speak for the rest. He could not undertake to account for the circumstance of the sheet being found in such an unsuitable place. He retired to bed very early, and being greatly fatigued with his exertions bodily and intellectual during the day, and overcome with the heat of the weather, he had thrown himself THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. 75 upon the mattress without noticing whether there was two sheets or none upon it. It was not at all unlikely, he thought, that the chamber- maid herself had placed it, in the moiTiing, at the window to air, had forgotten it, and that it had blown out of the window, and lodged, in its fall, on the peach tree which overhung Mr. Androscoggins''s balcony and shaded his bed- room window. James Dobbin proved by the evidence of the nurse to the establishment, that being that night afflicted with a severe earache, he had passed the night in question under her kind care in the hospital of the establishment. Henry Oyer/oo/; denied altogether any knowl- edge of the reason of the absence of the sheet, or of the disturbance at Mr. Androscoggin's window. Horatio Nelson^ a small pale boy, next ap- peared on the stand. He said, though he came there under somewhat suspicious circumstances, and was willing to admit that he was not free from blame, yet he was heartily sorry for the part he had taken in the transaction, and he thought he should be able to make it appear to the court that he was not guilty of an intention to commit the serious crime with which Mr. 76 THE JUVENILE COURT EOOM. Androscoggin had charged the persons who entered his room so unceremoniously on the morning of the thirty-first. As he was not much used to speaking in public, he had pro- cured the assistance of his friend, Master Hen- derson, as counsel, who would state the facts of the case, as far as he was concerned in them, and he would then throw himself on the mercy of the court. Master Henderson then said, that he did not rise with the hope of proving his client to be an innocent man or boy. From his own confes- sion, which he begged leave to inform the court was voluntarily made, he had been to blame. But he hoped to convince them, that the offence was a boyish frolic and not a premeditated crime of the heinous nature of burglary in a dwelling- house in the night-time. As Mr. Androscoggin had remarked, the peach-tree, near his window, was filled, at this time, with very fine fruit. A number of the young men, having assembled in the room of his client on the afternoon of the thirty-first, which was a holiday, they had seen the peach- es, and the love of fine fruit, so natural to boys, had so far prevailed over their moral sense of what was right, that they had devised various THE GOOD AUNT. See page 137. THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. 77 schemes by which they might procure some of those dehcious peaches. The top of the tree was about six feet below the window of the room, and after various plans had been talked of, it was suggested that one of the boys might be tied in a sheet and let down by a strong rope from the window, into the peach-tree, that he should gather some peaches, and that he then could be drawn back again with the fruit and no one would know any- thing about it. This was a very good plan, but the question next arose, who should be the fortunate indivi- dual to be tied up in the sheet, and launched out upon this somewhat perilous expedition. All the boys were afraid, until my client, who, though small in stature, is a most courageous fellow, and who had before taken no part in the consultation, came forward and said, he did not care for the peaches, but that he was not afraid to be let down. The offer of his services was immediately accepted ; a sheet was taken from one of the beds, he was tied up in it, a strong rope was attached to it, he was swung out of the window, and reached the balcony beneath the peach-tree 6 78 THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. in safety ; there he emerged from his sack and began to pick some of the peaches. The success of the attempt emboldened some of the other boys, and a young man, who I suppose I am not bound to name, of a much larger size than my client, was so tempted with the peaches, that he wished the sheet to be drawn up, that he might go down and pick for himself It was accordingly drawn up, but either from the greater weight or more careless tying, just before he reached the balcony, the sheet un- tied, the boy fell, and was precipitated with such force against the window, that he broke in the glass, sashes and all, and came tumbling down exactly in the manner described by the com- plainant. This accident, and the noise of breaking in the window had alarmed the boys above so that they had put out the lights and run away, and the lads soon perceived that there was no hope of getting back in the way they came. As thev had heard that Mr. Androscoggin was a somewhat timid man, they thought by a little blustering they could alarm him so he would not cry out. Their plan succeeded ; that gen- tleman, after the first outcry, which they soon THE JUVENILE COURT EOOM. 7 9 checked, remained perfectly still until they could go down the stairs and leave the house. They entered at the front door of Dr. Johnson's house, which, fortunately for them, was not locked, the Doctor having some friends passing the evening with him, and they succeeded in reachino; their room without beino; discovered. His client was truly sorry for the part he had taken in the transaction. He did not, in the first place, care for the peaches, but he was urged by a foolish vanity to do a thing which all the other boys were afraid to do. He was willing to submit to any penalty the court might see fit to inflict, and he should be happy to make any reparation in his power to the com- plainant for the alarm he had inflicted on him and the injury his peach-tree and bow-window had suffered. This was a plain statement of the case, and his client threw himself on the mercy of the court. The judge rose and said, that he was happy to have this matter, which had at first seemed so dark, explained, and that though the attempt to rob the peach-tree was by no means to be justified, yet it was a less heinous crime than that of breakino; into a dwelling-house in the night-time. In consequence of the general 80 THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. good character, and high standing of Master Nelson, the motives he had given for this ac- tion, and the penitence he expressed for it, he thought he might venture to say, even before consulting his brother judges, that the penalty- would be light. But another young man had been mentioned, though not by name, and he now called on him, whoever he might be, to come forward and confess his guilt, as he might be assured, that measures were in a train, which would certainly bring it to light, and that his punishment would be much more gentle, and his character much more respected, if he acted in this manner, than if he attempted any further concealment. James Williams now arose, and in a very humble tone confessed that he was the boy, who was let down after Master Nelson, and who actually had done all the mischief. If he had possessed the moral courage of that young man, he should have at once confessed his fault, but he felt afraid of the consequences, and hoped to be able to prevent the thing being found out. He had added to his fault greatly by telling a falsehood when he was before on the stand ; but he had been so touched at the manner in which the counsel of Master Nelson THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. 81 had told the story, without attempting to throw the blame on any one else, that he resolved, the moment he had opportunity, to confess the part he had taken in the afTair, and humbly to ask the pardon of the Honorable Court, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Androscoggin, and all the respect- ed assembly who had been called together to investigate the affair. Mr. Androscoggin again addressed the as- sembly. He had been much pleased with the proceedings of the morning. The handsome behavior of Mr. Nelson had given him great pleasure, and he was also touched by the peni- tence of Master Williams. He begged that all further proceedings against these two young men might be stopped — no farther inquiry made into the affair, and no punishment inflict- ed upon him. He thought they had already suffered so much, particularly Master Williams, from his fall and the other inconveniences which had attended this affair, that they would be warned never to engage in such an unlawful business again. And he begged Dr. Johnson would allow him to present the 5^oung gentle- men with a bushel of his finest peaches, to be eaten by them after supper, and he hoped the affair would henceforth be entirely forgotten. 82 THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. The judges, after a few moments consulta- tion, gave their sentence, that Master Nelson should be discharged without delay, free from all penalty ; and that Master Williams should be fined half of his pocket-money for the next four weeks, the sum so taken to be applied to paying the glazier for repairing the bow win- dow. 3Ir, Androscoggin begged that this penalty might not be imposed on the young man ; but Master Williams declared that he should not feel easy without he were allowed to make this restitution. He also thanked Mr. Androscog- gin in a very feeling manner for the tender- ness he had exhibited towards him. The court then adjourned. Dr. Johnson in- vited the young ladies to pass the evening, on that occasion, with the young gentlemen, and he also begged Mrs. Merideth and Mr. Andros- coggin to honor him with their company at the same time. These invitations were accepted, and the whole party met in the large hall, — not with the formality of a court, but full of good humor and cheerfulness. Mr. Androscoggin sent in a large supply of his best peaches, and felt him- self amply repaid for all the inconvenience he THE JUVENILE COURT ROOM. 83 had suffered, by the smiling faces and happy looks which met him everywhere. No one ever thought of such a thing as stealing a peach from the kind old gentleman again. Note. — It is related in Southey's Life of Lord Nelson, that he was once at a boarding-school, where a plan like the one described in the trial above was made. Nelson was let down in the sheet, picked the peaches, carried them back, and distributed them among his companions. He said he cared nothing for the fruit, but all the rest of the boys were afraid of falling, and he wished to show them that he was not. He need not have felt ashamed to confess that lie was afraid to do anything so wicked as to steal. CHARADE. Whktm the broad river onward poi.irs, And over everything wonhl burst, What is it can restrain its force ? When you reply, you name my first. And when yon this or that woukl learn, And wiser friends perchance ate near, My SECOND with your eye or lip You often do witliout a fear. A humble worm, man, with his skill, My brilliant whole to form unite. Which church and palace oft adorns. And lends its charms to beauty bright. THE TRAVELLED MOUSE. A PAKTY of Mice Once assembled, to hear What one, who had travelled For more than a year, Could tell, of the wonders Abroad he had seen, And the marvellous places In which he had been. He told of dark crannies, Where visits he'd made ; Of cellars and shelves, And the food there arrayed. But, wonder of wonders ! He vowed he had seen In more than one country, Where roving he'd been, THE TRAVELLED MOUSE. A wonderful creature — Like a mouse it appears, Just such hair, voice, and whiskers, Such eyes, and such ears. But he begged they'd believe him, He told them no lie, These mice wore broad cloaks, And like birds they could fly ! The young Mice gazed in wonder, But the old cry, " What's that ? This very strange thing Is nought else but a bat. If you look up, at evening. Toward chimney or tree, These wonderful creatures In numbers you see." It is not worth one's while A long journey to go, To find out what at home Everybody may know. P E R D I T A , OR THE CHINESE FOUNDLING. Mr. Goldsmith was a gentleman who had been for many years engaged in the China trade — and being compelled to remain abroad, he at last sent for his wife to join him in China ; as she had no children, she readily consented to make the voyage, and after a pleasant, though rather tedious passage, she safely reached Ma- cao, the Chinese town where foreigners were then allowed to trade, and was warmly wel- comed by her husband, from whom she had been separated for many months. She established her resijence at Macao, about eighty miles from Canton, where her husband was obliged to go to carry on his busi- ness. The Chinese at that time would not al- low the wives of foreigners to live at Canton. Their customs were then and still continue very 88 PERDITA. peculiar to themselves, and they are very un- willing to allow foreigners to have much inter- course with them. Mr. Goldsmith was obliged frequently to be separated from his wife during his visits to Canton, and during these absences she sometimes diverted herself by exploring the neighborhood of her residence. She went out one day, attended by her ser- vant, and wandered to some distance from the city of Macao, and came to a spot where a large cross upon a stone pediment has been erected. It was surrounded by a tall close bamboo hedge, while above it on the opposite shore rose the ornamented roofs of the Chinese pagoda, from which ascended the smoke of the sacrifices. While Mrs. Goldsmith was looking around, admiring the singular appearance of the spot, and meditating upon the still more singular people who resided there, she was startled by the cry of a young child, and on looking round she discovered, partly concealed in the hedge which surrounded the cross, a Chinese basket, which, on examination, she found contained a female infant. She knew that the Chinese sometimes destroy or expose their female child- ren to avoid the trouble and expense of bring- ^o/' PERDITA. 91 ing them up, and she immediately supposed this was one of those little unfortunates. She fancied as she opened the basket, the little creature smiled upon her, it certainly ceased its wailing. She could not bear to leave it there to perish ; perhaps she thought of the comfort and pleasure it might afford her. She asked her servant if it were possible that any one had placed it there who would return for it. He thought not, but had no doubt that the parents had sent it there, hoping some kind- hearted Christian who visited the cross might take pity on the poor baby. While Mrs. Goldsmith was hesitating whether she should take possession of the child, she saw, slowly creeping round from the other side of the cross, a Chinese woman of the lower class, who seemed attempting to conceal her- self behind the shrubbery of the hedge. She directed her servant, who understood the lan- guage of the Chinese, to speak to her and ask her if she knew anything of the baby. At first she hesitated, but on being addressed with kind words, and desired to tell all she knew, she confessed that the poor little child belonged to her sister. She said her sister's husband was a cruel, cross fellow, that he had 7 92 PERDITA. a large family of children, and that on the birth of this poor little girl, he had vowed he would not provide for it, but that it should be exposed on the river, as many female children were every year. His wife and her sister had begged and prayed him to allow them to keep the child ; he was inexorable, and threatened to carry it to the river the very day after it was born. All that the poor woman could do was to persuade him to let the sister carry it away. She had heard of Mrs. Goldsmith, and knew she was kind and good to the people who were about her, and as she frequently saw her walking to the great cross behind Macao, she thought she went there to worship God, and the idea oc- curred to her, that, perhaps, if she saw the dear little child there, she might take pity upon it, and provide for it. The sister had remained near to see the success of her experiment. Mrs. Goldsmith now hesitated no longer. She told the woman she would provide for the child. The woman wept with gratitude, but as she still lingered, the lady asked her if she had any farther request to make. She asked if she might sometimes come to see the little crea- ture, to which request Mrs, Goldsmith willingly PERDITA. 93 gave her consent. When she grows up, added the woman, " you will tell her the story of this day ; she will only love you the more for it, and she will, perhaps, feel pity for her poor mother and aunt, who were compelled to give up their darling." Mrs. Goldsmith consented to the poor wo- man's requests, and telling her where she lived, the woman went away, with many thanks, and the servant carried the child to Mrs. Gold- smith's house. The husband of the good lady was somewhat surprized, when he returned from Canton, to find this addition to his family, but he willingly consented to what his wife thought would add to her happiness. They hesitated for a name to bestow on the little bright-eyed creature. Mr. Goldsmith said, that if it had been a boy, they might perhaps have felt bound to call it Moses, after the prophet of the Jews, who we read, in the Book of Genesis, was found under somewhat similar circumstances. But as this could not be done, they concluded to call her Perdita. The infant, thanks to Mrs. Goldsmith's good judgment and kind treatment, flourished finely, and became really one of the prettiest little u PEHDITA. things in the world. Her complexion was rather yellowish, but her little bright black eyes and long soft black hair, and the sweet expres- sion of her face made her altogether charming. She was also of a very sweet, docile temper, and the child, which at first was adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Goldsmith from motives of com- passion, became to them, soon, as dear almost as if it were their own. Its education formed a very pleasant occupation for the lady, and served to occupy many hours which would, perhaps, have proved tedious to her while her husband was absent from home and engaged in his business. The mother and aunt occasionally came to see the child, and expressed, as well as they were able, to Mrs. Goldsmith, the grati- tude they felt for the kindness she bestowed upon it. At last Mr. Goldsmith had brought his affairs to a close, and concluded to return to his native land. Mrs. Goldsmith sent for the mother of the child, and told her that she was about to leave the country, never to return, and that she would gladly take the child with her. The mother gave her consent, knowing that she could do nothing herself to provide for the wants of the little creature. PERDITA. 95 Perdita was too young when she left China to have any knowledge of her mother. The voyage home was a prosperous one. On reach- ing America, Mr. Goldsmith, who had made a large fortune during his residence abroad, re- solved to retire from business, and purchased a very beautiful farm in the western part of New England. Here he soon established himself with his family. The situation was delightful, and one of the greatest sources of pleasure both to Mr. Goldsmith and his wife, was the little China girl, who grew very fast, became very intelli- gent, and added greatly to the comfort of their life. Not far from the house of Mr. Goldsmith was a forest, which, though cleared of the un- derwood and made pleasant for walking in the part near the house, extended back for several miles into an uncultivated part of the country, and was inhabited by deer and other untamed animals. These would sometimes stray down to the borders of the wood, and Perdita, in her wanderings there, often caught sight of a deer, with his long, slim legs and his high, branching horns. One day, when she was walking near the 96 PERDITA. edge of the cleared wood, she discovered a little young roe, which had probably followed the older ones, but from fatigue or some other cause had got left behind. The poor little thing had fallen down, and lay there alone, panting with fatigue and terror. The little girl took him up, and though he struggled with fear, yet he was young and feeble, and she succeeded in carrying him home. She ran to Mrs. Goldsmith with her prize. "Here, dear mother," said she, "here is a poor little deer I have found in the grove, just as you found me when I was a little helpless baby. May I not take care of it, just as you took care of me .^ " The appeal was irresistible. Mrs. Gold- smith gave her consent, and went with the little girl to the pantry and gave her some milk, with which, after a while, they succeeded in feeding the little animal. The gardener then fixed a box, which he lined with fresh grass, and in which they placed the little tired animal, and it was soon in a sound sleep. Perdita attended so carefully upon her little charge, that it soon became very much attach- ed to her, accompanied her in all her walks, sat by her when she was reading or working, PERDITA. 97 and afforded her a great deal of amusement. An amateur painter was one day visiting Mrs, Goldsmith, and was so pleased with the group that he sketched a picture of the little girl sit- ting in a rude garden-house, with the tame roe beside her leaning his head on her lap. To those of our readers who have taken an interest in the little Chinese girl, we will just remark, that she continued to improve in mind and body, that she became a highly-educated woman, and a most amiable and attractive one ; that she was of great comfort and assistance to Mrs. Goldsmith and her husband, and that lady always felt that she had cause to remember with joy and gratitude the day she went to walk at the foot of the great Cross, behind the town of Macao. CltAEADlB. My first is unbroken, Be it good or bad, Of the truth is seldom spokeilj Of our wishes rarely had. My SECOND is a part Of evil or of good, Of pleasure or of pain, Of clothing or of food. When you look for your dinner, Choose food that is my wholEj Some preachers say that trouble Is my whole to your souL ICE PALACE. The annals of the reign of Catharine II. make mention of one ephemeral palace, which, like that of Pandsemonium, " Out of tae earth, a fabric huge Rose like an exhalation ;" and like an exhalation vanished, not leaving a wreck behind. From a true and particular ac- count of this ice palace, drawn up by Kraft, an imperial academician, and published at St. Pe- tersburgh the year after its erection, it appears that seven years before, an ice castle had been built on the river Neva ; but the ice bent under the weight of the edifice and of the soldiers who garrisoned it. To avoid a similar defect in the foundation, it was resolved, on the occa- sion of the marriage of Prince Galitzin, in 1740, to erect a palace of ice on terra firma ; and 100 iCE PALACE. a site was chosen between the imperial winter palace and the admimlty, one of the lords of the bedchamber being appointed to superintend the works. The palace was constructed of blocks of ice, from two to three feet thick, cut out of the winter covering of the Neva ; these being properly adjusted, water was poured be- tween them, which acted as cement, consoli- dating the whole into one immense mass of ice. The length of the edifice was fifty-six feet, its breadth seventeen feet and a half, and its height twenty-one. It was constructed ac- cording to the strictest rules oi art ; and was adorned with a portico, columns, and statues. It consisted of a single story, the front of which was provided with a door and fourteen win- dows ; the frames of the latter, as well as the panes, being all formed of ice. The sides of the doors and of the windows were painted in imitation of green marble. On each side of the door was a dolphin, from the mouths of which, by means of naphtha, volumes of flame were emitted in the evening. Next to them were two mortars, equal to eighty pounders, from which many bombs were thrown, a quar- ter of a pound of powder being used for each charge. On each side of the mortars stood ICE PALACE. 101 three cannons, equal to three pounders, mount- ed upon carriages, and with wheels, which were often used. In the presence of a number of persons attached to the court, a bullet was driven through a board two inches thick, at the distance of sixty paces, by one of these cannons, a quarter of a pound of powder being also used for a charge. The interior of the edifice had no ceiling, and consisted of a lobby and two large apartments, one on each side, which were well furnished, and painted in the most elegant manner, though formed merely of ice. Tables, chairs, statues, looking-glasses, candlesticks, watches, and other ornaments, besides tea- dishes, tumblers, wine-glasses, and even plates with provisions in one apartment, also formed of ice, and painted in their natural colors ; while in the other were to be seen a state bed, with curtains, bed, pillows, and bed clothes, two pair of slippers, and two nightcaps of the same cold material. Behind the cannon, the mortars, and the dolphins, stretched a low bal- ustrade. On each side of the building was a small entrance. Here were pots with flowers and orange trees, partly formed of ice, and partly natural, on which birds sat. Beyond these were erected two icy pyramids. On the 102 ICE PALACE. right of one of them stood an elephant, which was hollow, and so contrived as to throw out burning naphtha ; while a person within it, by means of a tube, imitated the natural cries of the animal. On the left to the other pyramid was seen the never-failing concomitant of all princely dwellings in Russia, a banya, or bath, apparently formed of balks, which is said to have been sometimes heated, and even to have been appropriated to use. The appearance of the ice palace, it is said, was remarkably splendid when lighted up in the evening with numerous candles. Amusing transparencies were usually suspended in the windows to increase the effect ; and the emis- sion of flames by the dolphins and the elephant, all tended to excite greater surprise, while the people beheld the crystalline mass. Crowds of visiters were continually seen around this fan- tastic and unique construction, which remained entire from the beginning of January almost to the middle of March. The glassy fabric then began to melt, and was soon afterwards broken into pieces, and the ruins were conveyed to the imperial ice-cellar. On the wisdom displayed in the construction of this costly emblem of worldly glory, the yeader may make his own comment. THE TWO SQUIRRELS, OR, DIVISION OF LABOR. In front of an old-fashioned house in the coun- try, stood an English walnut tree. The house had been inhabited before the American Revo- lution by an officer of the king, and he had planted this and some other trees of the kind, which are not native in America, in his grounds, to remind him, probably, of his own old home over the other side of the water. But the days of the Revolution came on. The American colonists had grown numerous, and they thought they were able to manage their own affairs. The English government did not think so, and they were constantly mak- ing laws which were considered by the colo- nists as very oppressive ; and after a long struggle, and much fighting and suffering, the colonies separated from the parent state, and became an independent nation. 106 THE TWO SQUIRRELS. In the beginning of these difficulties, the owner of this house, of which I have been speaking, who was a commissioner of the king, left his pleasant house, the wahiut trees which he had planted, and his nice garden, and went back to England. He thought king George was the right owner of these colonies, and he did not care to stay in the midst of so much fighting and confusion. What became of him was never known to those who remained be- hind ; the present story relates to his walnut trees, and what befell them. Many years after the war was over, and when the house had become somewhat old and out of repair, a family went to reside there from the town. The trees had all grown up large, and the house was beautifully shaded, and the walnut trees especially were in a fine thriving state, and yielded their fruit abun- dantly. Not only did the boys and girls enjoy these nuts, but the squirrels revelled very joyfully upon them. The English walnut is larger than our native walnut, and the shell is thinner, so that it was perhaps easier for the squirrels to crack and eat these nuts than those of the other variety. For this or some other reason, it was THE TWO SQUIRRELS. 107 perceived that the little Dimble fellows inhab- ited the trees in great numbers, and they were almost always to be seen running up and down the trees. One morning, as the lady of the house sat sewing at her window, she was very often moved to look up by hearing the sound of something falling. She turned her eyes toward the walnut tree, and saw every moment or two a nut drop from the tree. This fruit does not usually fall until after a frost has cracked the outer green rind, and then the nuts drop out. This was too early for that to have taken place, and she was surprised to see the whole nuts, with their green outer covering, fall, one after another, to the ground. Upon looking more attentively, she perceiv- ed a squirrel sitting on a high branch of the tree, and gnawing away with his teeth upon the nuts, which, one after another, fell to the ground, where one of his companions sat wait- ing to receive them, took them in his mouth, carried them away, and then reappeared in time to take another. The lady was much amused at the ingenuity of the little animals and the plan they had con- trived to save the trouble of running up and 108 THE TWO SQUIRRELS, down for every separate nut. She watched them for some time. They occasionally chang- ed places, the one who had been below would run up, and the other would come down and wait at the bottom of the tree It was during one of these changes of position, that the lady took her pencil and sketched the picture which accompanies this article. A month or two later, and just before the winter set in, as some repairs were made to the fence below the walnut tree, a large pile of dry leaves were disturbed, and underneath them, all covered up for a winter store, there appeared more than a bushel of walnuts, which the squirrels had gathered in this way and put there for a winter supply. What became of the poor little fellows after their storehouse was so disturbed, was never known ; but as they had shown so much inge- nuity in collecting their provision for the win- ter, the children of the family always hoped that they would be able to provide for them- selves some other way. At any rate, the next summer a large number of squirrels appeared on the trees ; whether these enterprising little fellows were among them, was never found out, as squirrels of the same species look sur- prisingly like each other. THE LAUGHING PRINCESS, AND THE PRINCESS WHO NEVER LAUGHED. A FAIRY TALE. ALTERED FROM THE FRENCH OF COUNT HAMILTON. The King of Astracan, one of the most pow-* erful monarchs of Asia, either in regard to the extent of his dominions, for the mines of gold and silver which they contained, or for the manufactures of painted cotton for which they were renowned, thought himself the most un- fortunate of men, because he had no children to inherit his wealth and dominions. The queen his wife was beautiful, young, and finely formed, and loved her husband tenderly. She had but one fault, and that was being the great- est laugher of her age. Everything made her laugh, and nothing prevented it. The king, her husband, had had several wars 110 THE LAUGHING PRINCESS, AND with neighboring princes on this subject ; for as soon as they sent to announce any sad news, such as the death of an only son, she would only respond to the ambassadors, with their trailing cloaks, by shouts of laughter, at which they were so offended that they imme- diately retired from the royal presence to send despatches to their masters, filled with com- plaints and indignation, that the rights of na- tions and sovereigns were violated in their persons. As this malady only increased, the king re- solved, with the advice and consent of his counsel, that the queen should go on a pilgrim- age to the famous oracle of the Cock, but that she should set out, as is usual on such occa- sions, with a very small suite of followers. And because the temple of this oracle is situated at the gates of Fourchime, the capital of the king- dom of Bactriana, she went to it disguising her name and her dignity, in order to avoid the ceremony and magnificence of a formal recep- tion. The king, who followed, also disguised, wish- ed himself to explain the cause of the journey to the priestess of the temple. The queen laughed till she held her sides all the time, and THE PRINCESS WHO NEVER LAUGHED, 111 this displeased the priestess very much. The Cock, however, pronounced the following ora- cle : — The favoring powers On the pilgrims have smiled, No longer in vain Shall they long for child. But lucky is he, And well chosen the hour, Who, to make this child laugh, Shall possess the strange power. There was no obscurity about the beginning of this answer, but the concluding part troubled the spectators a little, and gave rise to some embarrassment. Meantime the oracle kept its word, and in due time the king had the plea- sure of having born a son and a daughter, each more beautiful than the other, and both more beautiful than all the other children in the world. But it was too much for the poor queen, who died of laughing on the occasion. The king comforted himself with the child- ren she left him, and by the pleasure of being able to breathe in his palace without being stunned by everlasting bursts of laughter. But his destiny did not permit him long to enjoy quiet happiness. At the end of six months, in the middle of the night, the room in which his 112 THE LAUGHING PRINCESS, AND children were sleeping took fire. He ran to it at the first alarm, and though every one follow- ed his example, and run through the flames to save the children, the fire was so sudden and terrible that his daughter only was got out. Most of the officers of the household, to show their zeal, stayed till the last moment in the midst of the fire and smoke, and returned half broiled without being able to save the little prince. This loss threw the whole kingdom into the most extreme sorrow, and the king absolutely refused to be comforted. But time, which is the great consoler, insensibly wore away his grief, while it increased the charms of the prin- cess his daughter. She was the living image of her mother, except that she was larger, a finer figure, more white, and fairer ; that her eyes were a thousand times brighter ; and she is now, if we may believe those who have seen her, a thousand times more beautiful than all the beauties in the world. But, alas ! those who say so much, have seen all the beauties in the world, or they could not form a comparison. The king, more dazzled with her charms than all his people and all his court were, judg- ed her worthy of all the crowns in the world, THE PRINCESS WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 113 and did not think of such a thing as marrying again and giving his own crown to anybody but this fair daughter. But as if his star did not permit him to enjoy perfect happiness in his family, this wonderful princess, whose looks were armed with fire and darts, whose person and all whose motions were accompanied by the most winning grace, had never opened her mouth, either to laugh or speak ; and it was only when she opened it to gape, which to be sure happened pretty often, that one was able to perceive her vermilion gums and the whitest teeth that were ever seen. The good king, who, during the infancy of his daughter, was incessantly expressing his gratitude that she had not the fault of her mo- ther, would have given half his kingdom, when she had grown up, to see her laugh all day and all night long, so tired had he become of a seriousness which appeared to him more intol- erable than anything else. Nothing was spared to make her break a silence which distressed every one, and to draw her from a gravity which seemed to distress herself, for it was easy to see, from her manner, that she w^as amused at everything, although nothing could make her laugh. All the philosophers, all the 114 THE LAUGHING PRINCESS, AND chemists, all the song-singers, all the teachers of languages, and the tutors of all the parrots who had ever been taught to speak, wasted their time over her. All the buffoons and jesters were collected, good as well as bad, from every part of the kingdom. They even brought the most excellent troop of comedians from China, who are the best in the world for farce, — but, all they could do, nothing could produce upon her face the faintest smile. The king, in the extremity of his anxiety, thought he could do nothing better than to send to the oracle of the Cock, which had formerly been so favorable to him, and employ in this mission the highest officers of the crown, who should be furnished with the richest presents for the priestess. They were well received by her, and their presents were exceedingly acceptable ; but she lold them that it was some time since the Cock went away to pay a visit to the Great Cara- mousel ; and that it was only in the neighbor- hood of Mount Atlas that they could get the advice which they had come to seek at Four- chime. Though the king their master was afflicted at this delay, he did not lose courage ; and. THE PRINCESS WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 115 only taking time to make new preparations, he despatclied the same ambassadors, with three hundred elephants laden with the most magni- ficent painted cotton, and the finest monkeys which were to be found in his kingdom ; and, to render the affair more touching in the eyes of the enchanter Caramousel, he added to the procession his own band of music — though this music, if we may believe those who have had opportunity to hear it, is more fit to drive one crazy than to amuse him, at least until he becomes accustomed to it. The satraps of Astracan set out on their journey, with their painted cloth and their monkeys, and after having passed along by the side of Chersonese Tauride, and crossed both the Armenias, they went finally to a forest, where they came near losing a part of the pre- sents of which they had the care. Each of the three hundred elephants carried an immense bale of the richest painted cotton which ever was in the world, and at the top of each of these bales was seated a monkey. I do not know what the king their master expected the wise Caramousel would do with three hundred monkeys ; but, whatever it was, he had charg- 116 THE LAUGHING PRINCESS, AND ed the messengers, on no account to suffer one of them to escape. The forest through which they were obliged to pass, was so infested with wild beasts that they were obliged to make use of their music to force a passage through it. But soon as the sound of this was heard, the wild beasts were seen making their escape in every direction, and disappeared in a moment, quicker than if all the hunters and hounds in the world had been at their heels. Meantime, this success had nearly been fatal to them, for they were no sooner in the midst of this forest, which was composed of apple, nut, and almond trees, than all the monkeys, with the exception of one alone, who from their high situation on the top of their elephants, had only to make a single leap in order to reach the tops of the trees, took advantage of their situation to disperse themselves. The monkey who remained was the most beautiful, the most noble in his manners, and the most finely formed of all the monkeys ; but he was so sad that the satraps wept more than once, during the journey, at the grief with which he seemed to be overpowered, for, far See page 128. THE PRINCESS WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 117 from gambolling about and performing all those buffooneries which were practised by his com- panions, he passed the most of his time in read- ing, and when he was interrupted by any acci- dent, he was seen, sometimes his head support- ed on one of his hands, buried in a profound reverie, and sometimes with his arms crossed, raising his eyes to heaven, heaving deep sighs, and shedding tears in such great abundance, that it was impossible for any one who saw him not to keep him company. He was sitting reading on his elephant while the others were running about in the wood and making noise and racket enough to drive one crazy. The caravan of ambassadors was obliged to stop three days in this forest, before they could collect the monkeys, for they would not leave the trees to join the company, until they were surfeited with all the different kinds of fruit ; and they did not all return at last, for three of them died in consequence of the al- monds, and three more of the green apples they had eaten ; and all that the king's ambas- sadors could do, was to take off their skins and stuff them with straw, that the number might not fall short when they had the honor to pre- sent them to the celebrated Caramousel. 118 THE LAUGHING PRINCESS, AND As soon as they reached the foot of the mountain, they sent to give the enchanter no- tice of their arrival by a courier, and ordered him to inquire if it was his pleasure that they should set out, with all their equipage, to visit his dwelling, or if he preferred that they should encamp their caravan in the neighborhood and await till he should direct the manner in which he wished the presents to be brought to him. The courier returned at the end of three days, and reported that Caramousel was no longer at the place that he usually inhabited ; that he had retired to the summit of Mount At- las, and that nothing but the monkeys could climb up there. That he thought it proper to give them this notice, and they might then do as they pleased. They decided, on hearing this intelligence, to leave their presents and their suite under a safeguard at the foot of the mountain, and to reach, as well as they were able, the spot to which he had retired. They went for fifteen days, always going up, up by the most tiresome road there ever was, without finding any^ing but rocks and precipices. They grew almost out of patience with the king, the princess, and everything THE PRINCESS WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 119 which had sent them there. At last, the things they saw, and even the road began to grow less terrible, though they still kept mounting up, up, up. They found some little valleys watered by pleasant streams, the borders of which were adorned with wild flowers ; they saw birds of an entirely new kind, and, as they ascended, little tents, placed here and there. They had only to mount six hundred stadia higher, when they saw only the heaven above them, and came into the presence of the famous Caramousel. He came out of a tent larger than any they had seen as they came up, which was shaded on one side by a great number of orange trees, and surrounded on the other by several ma- chines supporting astrolabes, telescopes, and all the instruments which are used in observing the course of the stars. On leaving the tent, he was accompanied by a man who wore his arm in a scarf ; he ad- vanced towards them, and inquired civilly what the satraps of the great king of Astracan would have of Caramousel. At these words they prostrated themselves before him, as they would have done before some divinity ; for his presence inspired them with more respect than 120 THE LAUGHING PRINCESS, AND even his fame and the veneration which was everywhere spread of him could have produc- ed. They had expected to see the hideous figure of an enchanter, or at least some old man with a long beard, and all bent down by decrepitude, — but they were astonished to see a man of large stature, who, though advanced in age, had an august air, a majestic manner, and w^as dressed very richly. He immediately raised them. They dis- played their commissions, the circumstances of the misfortune about which they had come to consult him, and enumerated <;ver to him the presents they had brought him.. After having quietly listened to them, he led them, before makirig any reply, towards a part of the mountain from which they could see the ocean, and from which the whole earth might have been seen if the sight of man could have embraced it. They were frightened at the prodigious elevation at which they saw them- selves ; the islands in the ocean appeared to them like little black specks, and the largest ships like floating atoms. He then spoke to them and said, " I am no- thing less than what most of those who know me only by reputation believe me. It is true, THE PRINCESS WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 121 that a knowledge acquired by long meditation and constant specuktion, and perhaps the neighborhood to the celestial bodies, have given me great understanding of all that there is most infallible in astrology. I might say, perhaps, that most of the oracles have less certainty in their answers than there is in my conjectures and predictions. As for the oracle of the Cock, from which they have sent you to me, or rather whom they have advised you to seek in this place, I fancy you will never hear much more about him, he is occupied elsewhere. " As to the king your master, this is the ad- vice I give him, that he may be able to bestow upon the most beautiful princess in the world all that is wanting to make her the most happy and accomplished. Let him cause it to be proclaimed through all the regions of the earth, that whoever will make the princess laugh, shall have his choice, as a reward, either this adorable princess Mouseline, with all her fa- ther's dominions, — or all the force and all the power of the same king, to assist him in any conquest he may meditate. Let the princess be accessible to all who wish to see her, of whatever form and condition they may be ; 122 THE LAUGHING PRINCESS, AND and, finally, do not let her fail to take a jour- ney which shall occupy at least two months every year, that her divine charms may be exhibited in the different provinces which bor- der on those of her father. " Go, illustrious satraps, restore to the prince who sends you, the magnificent presents he has designed for me. Caramousel wishes no re- ward, for any services he may render, but the pleasure of having rendered them." Having thus dismissed the gentlemen of the embassy, they went to rejoin their caravan, in less time and with less trouble than they had had in ascending the mountain. As they had been long absent, they made a review of their elephants, their bales of painted cloth, and their monkeys ; they found all right, with the exception of the studious monkey, who had disappeared eight days before, without those who were left in charge of the caravan being able to tell how or where, and they had as yet been able to get no information respect- ing him, though they had searched most dili- gently through the whole neighborhood. The satraps were greatly afflicted at this loss, the more especially as they could not find his body, to stuff it with straw, as they had done THE PRINCESS WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 123 the six others. They set out, however, on their return to the king tlieir master. On the sixth day of their journey, after a long circuit, which they had made in order to avoid the forest which had been so fatal to their monkeys, they met with an adventure, which troubled them at first, though they received much joy from it at the end. They saw at a distance a number of camels, escorted by a troop of armed men. As the chiefs of this troop appeared to be people of rank, and as the camels which were so carefully guarded seem- ed loaded with something rare or precious, the ambassadors ordered their music to play as soon as they were within hearing distance. At the sound of this horrible concert, there was not a man or beast among those whom they had intended to honor who could resist it. The camels, more than any of the I'est of the ani- mals, were so excited, that they drove about, kicked and carried disorder everywhere. In their terror, they threw their burdens upon the ground, and these burdens, in falling, opened certain cages, from which issued tigers and lions, who, not being pleased with the serenade, fell upon the musicians, and some of them had to run hard for their lives. 124 THE LAUGHING PRINCESS, AND Meantime the elephants made a good resist- ance, and the monkeys a very bad one ; for while the former kept the bloody animals at a distance with their trunks, the monkeys filled the air with horrible cries, and tore up all the magnificent painted cloth on which they were perched. At that moment the glory of all the monkeys in the universe appeared, to the great astonishment of the satraps, issuing from behind a mass of rock. He was armed with a bow and a quiver filled with arrows. He selected one for each tiger, and one for each of the lions, and with a never-failing skill he pierced the hearts of them all, one after another. When he saw them on the ground, he went very coolly to draw his arrows from their bodies, and having made a profound bow to the satraps, he proceeded to take his seat on the back of the largest of the elephants. When the ambassadors returned to the King of Astracan, the whole court was assembled to hear the result of their pilgrimage. The king sat on a very magnificent throne, and the prin- cess, his daughter, was placed beside him, the beautiful face, as usual, as serious and grave as if made of marble, and it was enough to check THE PRINCESS WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 125 the laughter of the gayest person in the world, to look at her only for a moment. The amhassadors made their appearance, bringing with them the presents which had been sent back by the wise Caramousel. In the midst of all was placed the glorious monkey with his bow and quiver, who had rendered the party such essential service. The satraps began to tell their story. When they related the diffi- culties they had had with the monkeys in the forest, those who were watching the princess most narrowly, thought they perceived a little motion about the muscles of her mouth ; when they advanced to the part of their story which related the adventure of the serenade, she al- most smiled ; but when ihey described how the camels kicked about, and their burdens tumbled off, and how the cages fell open, and how the glorious monkey appeared with his bow and quiver, the charm was broken, and the fair Mouseline laughed aloud. " She has laughed," shouted the King, and embraced her with unrestrained delight. " She has laughed," cried the first maid of honor, and the words were echoed down to the lowest apartment, and the most hidden corner of the palace. 126 THE LAUGHING PRIINJCESS, AND When the Court at last turned their eyes from the fair MouseUne, who continued to laugh with the most winning grace, towards the monkey with his bow and quiver, he was no longer to be seen, but in his place stood a young man of noble form and countenance, majestic and graceful as the Grecian Apollo. He advanced slowly and respectfully towards the throne, and having saluted the king and the princess in the most graceful manner, he related that he was the son of the monarch who had been stolen from the palace at the time of the fire, by the cruel fairy, Feubras. That she had placed his sister and himself under a charm — the princess was never to smile, and he was to bear the form of a mon- key, until he was able himself to break the spell. He had succeeded in making his escape from the fairy, and was the studious monkey who had made part of the caravan of the em- bassy ; this figure of a monkey had never prevented him from the enjoyment he took in reading. He was one of the party who as- cended the mountain. The wise CaramouseL discovered who he was, notwithstanding the disguise under which he appeared. He gave THE PRINCESS WHO NEVER LAUGHED. 127 him the charmed bow and arrows, by which he was able to protect the caravan from the wild beasts, and told him that if he could succeed in conquering them, who were in fact only the fairy and her followers in disguise, the charm would be broken, he would be restored to his natural form, and the princess, his sister, would be relieved from her distressing situation. The king was overjoyed at this intelligence. He embraced his son again and again. The palace ringing with the merry laughter of the princess. The prince had acquired so much wisdom by his long studies, that he was able to be of great assistance to his father in the government of the kingdom, and the princess had been so long deprived of the power of smiling, that now she had obtained it, she was never known to look cross or serious, unless upon the most suitable occasions. IZAAK WALTON. Many years ago, there lived in England an old gentleman, who was very fond of fishing, and whose name was Izaak Walton. He loved the sport so much that he not only passed much of his time in the amusement, but he wrote a book about catching trout. Jn this sport, a bait in imitation of a fly is used. The picture shows the old gentleman sitting on the bank of the river preparing his fly. After all, fishing is not a very good amuse- ment, and it is hoped that the young readers of the Annualette, by a careful perusal of its pages from year to year, with the study of other good books, will acquire a taste for some better amusement, and be able to earn their dinners in some more certain way than in sit- ting to bob a hook and line in the water till some fish is silly enough to take it into his mouth, and compel the boy to dirty his hands by taking it out again. SOCIAL GAMES. — No. II. THE GLOVE. The person who begins this game takes a glove and throws it to the person who stands opposite to her, saying, " I throw you a glove." The latter asks, " Why do you throw this glove ? " The answer to this question must always rhyme with glove ; if this cannot be managed, the player must pay a forfeit. The answer may be, " Because it is you I love," — or " grove," " rove," " stove," &c. This game produces many forfeits, because the player who is to furnish a rhyme must not hesitate, or give a word which does not complete the rhyme. The glove must be sent to the person directly opposite ; he or she must throw it to the person next on the right to the one who began the game. This third player throws it to the next neighbor on the right of the one who threw it to him, and so on. These successive changes of course cause many mistakes, which produce forfeits. Moreover, the person who throws the glove must not allow it to fall to the ground ; she must catch it in her hand, or at least re- ceive it in her lap, otherwise she pays a forfeit. 10 BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. (For a Sketch see title-page.) Letter from a Lad in Boston to his Cousin in the Country, dated June 17, 1843. My deae. cousin Jim: When for Boston I started, And left you behind, at my loss broken-hearted, I promised, (to cheer you, I knew nothing better,) About the great doings, to write you a letter. So as good as my word, I now sit me down, My first leisure moment in this noisy town. You saw us all ready, and very well know, How we rode in the buggy to reach the depot. In our very great fear that the train might have passed, Uncle whipped vip the horse and we rode pretty fast. But this was quite needless, the train was belated, And at the depot a good half hour we waited. At last came the engine, the whistle and puffing. The train made a stop, and then oh, what a stuffing ; The cars were so full I could no corner see. Where I thought they could put my good uncle and me, But a pleasant young lad, near a window snug seated, Kindly gave us his seat, to the next car retreated, BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 133 And uncle sat down and took me in his lap, And Boston we reached without any mishap ; When I jumped from the carl was somewhat affright- ed, Such a crowd in the depot, although 'twas well lighted, Such running and pushing, the horses and coaches, The cabs and the men filling all the approaches ; For the seventeenth of June all the world had come out, From towns at a distance and towns near about. We managed to get out our luggage quite well, And soon were safe lodged in a famous hotel. We ate a good supper and on a soft bed I with real delight lay my poor weary head. After breakfast next morning my uncle and I Walked out with the hope something pleasant to spy ; Wherever we went there were sights to be seen. But prettiest of all was the Common, so green. Where all nicely dressed and in order displayed, The public school pupils a pleasant show made ; A prettier pageant you rarely will meet Than these children assembled the strangers to greet. But alas, what I add will, I know, give you pain. To destroy all this show came a drizzling rain. And while Mr. Tyler was entering the town The real big rain drops came pattering down. But people stood gazing, umbrellas and all, (In Boston they do not mind trifles at all.) But uncle and I did not relish such fun, And back to our lodgings in speed we soon run. The next morning was pleasant, and I was dressed soon, To be ready to welcome the 17th of June. 134 BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. And now such fine music, such fifing and drumming, Such bands of brave soldiers, now going, now coming My eyes were so constantly turned to the street, I hardly had leisure my breakfast to eat. But this being over, my uncle and I Made a call in the street when the pageant went by ; Of men, women and children the streets were so rife, That such crowding I never beheld in my life ; And then the procession at last came in vie-w, The marshals all mounted with ribbands of blue ; The barouches with horses and show all befitting, With President, Governors and Judges all sitting ; The soldiers with uniforms varied and fine. Societies, escort, — oh what a long line ! We looked and we looked till oiir eyes were quite tired, They had not passed by when an hour had expired ; Then on through the streets the procession proceeded Folks shouted and clapped where they thought it was . needed. Now and then from the houses which lined the broad way The ladies would throw a large fragrant bouquet ; Through streets, over bridge, they proceeded until They reached in due order far-famed Bunker Hill. When the show had all passed, uncle William and I Took leave of our friends, and to all said good bye. And to Charlestown we over the bridge took our way; A walk we preferred, as so fine was the day. We at last reached the hill, and, dear Jim, I declare, As I saw the grand pile rising up in the air, And as at the magnificent structure I gazed In the whole of my life 1 was ne'er so amazed. BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 135 Below, on the hill, where of course not much shade is, Were seats for the men and seats too for the ladies. While the Monument viewing we heard distant drumming, And then came the shout, " the procession is com- ing!" Very soon we discovered the rumor was true, For the brilliant procession appeared to our view. Through the streets it passed slowly, and gracefully wound Till it reached in due order the famed battle-ground. Now the voice of the priest was heard on the air, And hushed was all noise w^hile each heart bowed in prayer. Next the grea't Mr. Webster stepped forward and bowed, And such shouting and cheering arose from the crowd That I, who am used to the country and quiet Thought my poor weary head would have burst with the riot. When the shouting was over, the speaker began, — Mr. Webster, dear Coz., is a wonderful man, — But I cannot attempt his oration to tell, I '11 bring home the paper, you will read it as well. When the speaking was over we came back to town, And to dinner I was not averse to sit down. For to those who dine early at one, not much more, It is not a joke to be fasting till four. When dinner was over the soldiers came back, Of music and cheering there was little lack. The troops all paraded, the President bowed. And graciously smiled on the wondering crowd. 10* 136 BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. Next off in barouches they rode one and all, To eat a good dinner in old Faneuil Hall. And I to my letter sat down with good will, And found little trouble my paper to fill — A sketch of the Monument also I drew, At the foot of it uncle and I, all for you. And while musing and -wondering and thinking sat I, As to how I should send it, (for postage is high,) A friend of my uncle, whose na,me I forget, Offered room for the whole in the Annualette ; Such an offer you '11 think I v/ould not decline ; To see it in print will, you know, be quite fine. The plan may, perhaps, cause some little delay, Yet you surely will get it at some future day. And now, my dear Jim, I have finished my letter, I wish for your sake it contained something better j If the show you had seen with your own merry eye, You 'd have told all about it much better than I. And much more I can tell you, when safe I get home, But must sign myself now your own cousin Tom. THE GOOD AUNT. Mary and Agnes, had been so unfortunate as to lose their mother ; but her place had been supplied to them as much as a mother's place can ever be supplied by her sister, a maiden lady who lived in the country and who took the little girls home, and did everything in her power to make them happy. When they rose in the morning, she had taught them to make up their bed very neatly, to dust their chamber carefully, to put their books and playthings all in order. They then came to aunt Hester, and she read and ex- plained to them a passage in the Holy Bible. The little sketch at the beginning of this article may give some idea of the appearance of the little girls and their aunt. After this first lesson of the morning, they accompanied their aunt to the breakfast-room. 13S THE GOOD AUNT. They were very healthful children, and their aunt did not restrict them in their diet, but she was careful to teach them to behave with great propriety at the table. To sit in an upright position, not twisting and turning about and playing with their hair, as many ill-bred child- ren do. They always waited till they saw others who were seated at the table helped. They never asked in a loud tone for some particular thing which they particularly loved. But said in a mild tone, and when they perceived that no one else was speaking, " I will thank you to give me such a thing, or please to give me a little of that." When the breakfast was over they assisted aunt Hester to wash the breakfast cups ; al- • though they were young, they had grown very handy, and could put everything very neatly away in its place. They would then run out in aunt Hester's garden and gather some fresh flowers, arranging them neatly in the glasses or vases. If aunt Hester had any little work to do about the house, she would take the little girls about with her, and allow them to assist her, and instruct them in the way of managing the household affairs. THE GOOD AUNT. 139 By the time they had got through with this, the school hour had usually come ; Mary and Agnes would then take off their large aprons, which they had worn all the morning, and carefully hang them up in their place. Some little girls have a habit of tossing down their aprons just where they happen to be at school- time ; but Mary and Agnes had been taught better, and were very particular not to forget. They were careful to have their hands and faces very clean, and their hair nicely brushed before they went to school, and to put on their school bonnets and shawls very neatly. Some little girls seize their things in haste and run out into the street with them half on, or in their hand. This is a very careless habit, and should be always avoided. Children should begin to prepare for school in sufficient season, to have quite time enough to dress properly, and walk along moderately to school. If they get into school hurried and heated, it will take them half an hour to recover their breath so as to be able to go to work. When they got to school, Sarah and Agnes hung their bonnets and whatever else they might wear in the place provided for them, and were careful not to throw their own clothes or those of any of the 140 THE GOOD AUNT. Other scholars on the floor. Many garments are spoiled, and girls frequently look very slovenly in their school dress, from the thought- less way in which the outer garments are some- times tossed about in school. When they took their seats in school, they began to study in good earnest. They did not sit twisting and lounging over their books, think- ing of everything but what is on the page be- fore them, but they studied away most diligently, taking the lesson, if it were one to be learned by heart, one sentence at a time, and reading it over and over, slowly and attenlively, till they knew their lessons thoroughly. When school was over, they dressed them- selves in the same orderly way as before, and returned home. They arranged their dress for dinner, and were ready to go into the dining- room when the bell rung. Though aunt Hester was somewhat advanced in life, and had lost most of her early friends, yet she was fond of the society of the young and gifted, and gener- ally had a few friends about her, so that the little girls had an opportunity to observe good manners in others. They did not press hastily to the table, but waited, if there were others than the usual .^ THE GOOD AUNT. 141 family party, until the company were seated ; they then took their places, exactly where it was most convenient, and tried to assist in help- ing at the table, and listened to the conver- sation, without interrupting it by silly prattle of their own. After dinner they walked or exercised with some active games for awhile, then they worked, or read, or prepared their lessons for the next day. In the evening they read or list- ened to the conversation or music, and were so amiable and pleasant, that the older part of the company were never in a hurry to have them leave the room. They had a nice little garden of their own, and their aunt's gardener gave them, in the spring, roots and flowers to put in it, and helped them to fix it nicely. Afterwards they took care of it themselves, and kept it free from weeds, so that they had almost al- ways a bunch of fresh flowers from their own garden. This account of the good manners of these two pleasant little girls, may serve as a hint to others how they should behave to form quiet and pleasant habits. They are a great com- fort to their good aunt, and if their lives are 142 THE GOOD AUNT. spared, they give the promise of becoming, when they grow up, very useful and agreeable women. Some very good children are careless and inattentive in their manners. It is really important to form in early youth habits of politeness and kindness. ANSWERS TO THE CHARADES IN THE ANNUALETTE FOR 1843. No. 1. — Handel. 2. — Magpie. 3. — Ribband. 4. — Button. 5. — Salt Cellar. 6. — Patchwork. 7. — Pitcher. 8. — Bargain. 9. — Peacock. 10. — Friendship. 11. — Log Book. 12. — Partridge. 11 T. H. CARTER AND CO. — PUBLISHERS. Youth's Keepsake. Edited by a Lady. Annualette, in beautiful style. By the editor of the Youth's Keepsake. St. Nicholas Gift. By the author of the Annualette. Child's Gem. Edited by Mrs. S. Colman. Little Keepsake. By the editor of Child's Gem. Little Gift. By the author of Little Keepsake. The above PRESENTS are embellished with extra En- gravings, some of them beautifully colored, and the prices are unusually low, to suit the times. Also — The Housekeeper's Annual and Lady's Regis- ter. Price reduced to 25 cents. T. H. Carter & Co. have also among their publi- cations for the Little Folks, The Rollo Picture Book. By a Lady. Price 25 cents. Child's Picture Gallery. Price 25 cents. Child's Scrap Book. Price 25 cents. The Floweret, a Gift of Love. By Mrs. A. M. Wells.'' — Likewise, at 10 cents each — Poems, from the German. Part T. Part IL A Picture Alphabet. Little Sarah and her Johnny Cake, Mrs. Prim and her Son Jim. The Metamorphoscope. Remarkable Story of Chicken Little. Each book is neatly colored, and sold by the gross, or dozen, assorted, or separately, very cheap. *^* Moral Library for Youth in preparation. 4 (^'- / / 'fA/.-/>^^ T' "T. s%