of beauty. I wish you could see the gentleman, for he has no ordinary mien. He is so serious that I cannot help deeming him far wiser than myself." Whenever she could, she ran away from the tiresome ceremonies and grandeur of the court, up to the nurseries of her children. There she lulled her babies to rest with true motherly joy and tenderness, and sang out her happiness to these sleepy little birdies before she laid them down in their soft, warm nests. Queen Henrietta Maria had a voice of wonderful sweetness and power. It used to fill the galleries of St. James's with melody when she sang the lullaby songs; but, royal though she was, the rules of court life would not allow her to use her voice excepting for her children's pleasure. With all their power and distinction, queens are not as free in some respects as the commonest peasant within their realms, and it would have been counted a shocking breach of the royal etiquette had Her Majesty, the Queen of England, ventured so to humble herself as to sing for the entertainment of her Court. She little guessed the adventures in store for some of her nestlings, nor the bitter blasts they were to encounter in their journey of life. Not so with our Babie Stuart, however-quaint little sweetheart! The life of the pretty fledgling was very short; and being so short, let us hope it was bright with sunshine, and that it had plenty of daisies along the way. An old writer has told us, in curious language, how the "little lady" was wise above her age, and how she died in her infancy when not full four years old. "Being minded," he says, "by those about her to call upon God, even when the pangs of death were upon her, 'I am not able,' saith she, 'to say my long prayer' (meaning the Lord's Prayer), but I will say my short one, Lighten my eyes, O Lord, lest I sleep the sleep of death!' This done, this little lamb gave up the ghost." Babie Stuart! though you lived so short a time and so far away, thousands of little ones, gazing upon your picture to-day, will take you to their hearts as a new playmate,—a royal, dainty little lady of four years, who, nestled in her parents' arms, wondered at the sights and sounds about her, very much as they wonder to-day. PERHAPS some of the young readers of ST. NICHOLAS who see the many uses to which india rubber, or caoutchouc, is applied would like to know how it is gathered and brought to the manufacturers. are no roads through the forests, the water-courses are his routes from camp to camp. If you will get down your atlas and look for Nicaragua, you will see in the south-western part of the country a lake also called Nicaragua, and from the south-eastern end of the lake a river called the San Juan, that empties into the Caribbean Sea. On the banks of the San Juan, and of the little streams that flow into it, and on the borders of the lake at points accessible by canoes, are the campFor ing places of the india rubber hunters, sometimes a hundred miles from any town or village. A rubberparty generally consists of three or more men, one of whom is called patron, which means the same as the English word foreman. Those of the hunters who speak English call him, by the every-day title of boss. The canoe is big enough to carry from fifteen to twenty men. I suppose that almost all of you know that it comes from a tree. The india rubber tree, like the sugar-maple, yields its product in the form of sap; but if it were one-fourth as laborious to gather and prepare the sugar as it is to gather the rubber, we should see very little maple sugar. rubber trees are not found in large numbers to gether, but one by one scattered thinly through a trackless forest, such as none of you have ever seen, unless you have been in the tropics. At first sight, that immense jungle seems utterly impenetrable, and, indeed, it often proves so, unless the traveler is weaponed with a strong-bladed machete, which I shall describe farther on. The india rubber hunter generally has to work his way into the forest a long distance for each tree that he finds, and, after gathering the rubber, has to carry it on his back to his camp; and as there We will suppose ourselves at Greytown (also called San Juan del Norte), at the mouth of the San Juan River, and will walk down to the waterside, and look at some of the parties of rubberhunters who are just leaving. A short distance down the street, we suddenly come upon a group speaking Spanish, and gesticulating in an excited manner. Two of the party seem to be soldiers, or policemen, sion requires, it is a formidable weapon. I have often wondered that it was not brought into use in our own country, particularly as nearly all the machetes that are found in Central America are made in the United States. While we are looking at the canoe, the patron, having disposed of his cargo to his satisfaction, lays over it a sort of waterproof cover, made by smearing rubber over common cotton drilling, and this, by the way, is the only direct use the natives have ever learned to put rubber to, not an article of any sort, even a shoe, being made of it in the Nicaraguan country. The two policemen now approach with the two men in custody, and the latter, looking not too amiable, get into the being armed with bayonets, and these two appear to be the cause of the excitement among the others, as they are forcing two men down to one of the canoes, which are lying at the wharf just ahead of us. We will go and look at the boat and its cargo, and then ask a resident American merchant whom we meet, for what cause the two men are being thus handled. Here we are at the canoe, and now let us see what a rubber-hunter's outfit consists of. First there is a half barrel of flour from the United States; and then a bag of beans; a bag of rice; a large lump of chocolate; a very large bunch of plantains; a coarse native cheese; some very dirty-looking brown sugar; a tin can of lard; a quantity of the peculiar beef of that country, dried in strips and sold by the yard. Each man has a blanket and a small pillow, and one or two pairs of leather sandals. A few cooking utensils, some cups made of the shells of a curious gourd that grows in Nicaragua, two shot-guns, several large, shallow, tin pans and the machete, constitute the remainder of the outfit. I don't know whether I should better describe the machete as a huge butcher-knife or as a short heavy sword. It has a blade about two and a half feet long, very wide and heavy toward the point, the hilt usually made of horn and so shaped as to give the hand a good grip upon it. It is the inseparable companion of every Central American in the field or forest, or upon the road, and it really takes the place of many tools and implements that we should think almost indispensable. It is axe, hatchet, hammer, saw, hoe, rake, and scythe, and even spade and shovel; and if occa canoe, talking as rapidly as ever, ENCOUNTERING WILD HOGS. on while the policemen, and indeed most of the other men and women in the canoe and on the wharf, are also conversing excitedly, the only silent one being the patron, who quietly arranges seats to his taste, and then gives the word to shove off the canoe. Now comes a general exchange of hand-shaking and good-byes between the crew and the men and women shore; and we are surprised to see that the leavetaking between the policemen and their late captives is quite as cordial as that between any of the others. The party are soon off; each man dips his large cedar paddle into the water, and the canoe darts out into the stream, the volley of "goodbyes" continuing until she disappears into the tall grass that borders the channel leading up the river. We now turn to our new acquaintance, the American merchant, and walk with him to his store. He tells us that the canoe which has just started is his property, and that the men are in his employ,-that they are "matriculated" to his house. That long word, as you possibly know, is, in this country, associated with entering college, and many of you boys and girls are getting ready for that now; but we find that in Nicaragua it means bound to service for a certain time, or until a certain indebtedness is worked out. The merchant informs us that the party came in from the woods three weeks ago with a good lot of rubber, that they have spent all their money, and have gone in debt quite as much as they will be able to repay with the proceeds of this trip. So he has furnished them a new outfit, the value of which is also charged to them. The boat has been ready for three days, each day the crew promising him faithfully that they would start the next, and each time failing to keep their promise; and at last he has had to send the police after two of them and compel them to go. Once fairly off, the patron will have no difficulty in controlling them, particularly as they have no money left. Many of the merchants make it part of their regular business to keep rubber-hunters always at work, it being a singular fact that these fellows rarely work in their own interest, but almost invariably in the employ of others. They are like a great many sailors who work hard and endure all sorts of privations to earn their money, and then, when paid off, spend it all in a few days in carousing and gam bling. As it costs a large sum for canoe, provisions, &c., and as few of them ever save a cent of their money, they would be unable to go back into the woods if the merchants did not fit them out for the purpose. Indeed, after spending all they have made, they generally go in debt to their employer, until he refuses them another penny, and they are thus forced to start on the new trip. As we enter the store, the merchant shows us some of the rubber which has been brought in. Part of it, we observe, is in large, round, flat cakes; these he tells us are called tortillas (the Spanish for cakes), and are the portions caught in the pans which we saw in the canoe. He next shows us some bundles made of ragged-looking strips of rubber; this is what flows down and solidifies on the bark of the trees, and is called barucha. He tells us that the bargain with the men is that all the tortillas they bring go to pay their indebtedness to the house, and should there be more than enough for that, they are paid in money for the surplus; but for the barucha they are paid in money, however much they may be in debt, and whether they have enough tortillas to pay all or THE RUBBER-HUNTER MEETS AN ENEMY. not. This arrangement is necessary, because it very often happens that they do not get enough tortillas to pay off all they owe, and if they had no |