HERE are a few more lines from little Daisy and now and then a letter sent to a given address Little star above my head, Every night I go to bed, See you twinkle in the sky, Starrie! do you ever sleep, Won't you tell me, little star, If you are there through wind and snow. ་ is returned to us through the mails. Will the authors of articles which have been accepted and not paid for have the kindness to notify us at once? Lizzie Shackford, Lucy Bittinger, and Gracie V. Vanness, especially, will please take notice. Andrew J. W., New Orleans. The expense of binding "Our Young Folks" is $1.00, cloth, or $2.00, half calf. The cloth binding is strong and handsome, and would probably answer your pur pose. "Theodora " does not live in New Orleans, and her last name does not begin with C. You will have to guess again. S. E. W. writes: "I should like to ask the 'Young Folks' how to stuff birds." Who will enlighten him? THE earliest answers to our January puzzles were sent in by Ida A. Wendell, Lolita Lammot, Carrie Johnson, J. H. Ingham, and Theodore B. Foster. SEVERAL letters and answers to questions, de signed for this number, will appear in our next. Mutual Emprovement Corner. [For subscribers only. Names sent in must be in the handwriting of the persons desiring correspondents.] S. G. McCuthen, 1629 Wallace St., Phila., Pa. (drawing and painting). Elsie Douglas, 16 Warren Place, Boston Highlands, Mass. (wishes correspondents between 14 and 17, who have read Dickens, or are making collections of minerals). J. B. Kendall, Box 58, Washington, D. C. (wishes a correspondent not over 15; amateur printing). Wayland Young, Topsham, Me. (wishes correspond First comes My Pets," by Laura Bell, a pleas-ents between 12 and 16; hunting and fishing). ant little story of a canary-bird and a sparrow; then "The Invalide at the Place Vendome," a poem, by Henry DeWolfe, Jr.; "My Christmas Ride with Santa Claus," by Annie G. Shelden, a well-told story, but too long for "Our Young Contributors "; Spring Time in Texas," by S. Hayford, Jr.; "Autumn Leaves," a poem, by Fern; "Swiss Chalets," by Fred P. Treadwell; "The Grand Entry of the Saxon Troops into Dresden," by William H. Treadwell, Jr.; "What the Sensitive Plant said," by Evelyn G. Gilfillan; "The Sunbeam's Story," by Ella Hinman ; "Freddie," by Charlotte Daisy Bentley; and "Mabel's Question," a poem, by Lilly Wells. Fennie O. Youngs, Pleasant Valley, Conn. (age 13; would like correspondents on flowers). Sadie C. Choate, Brattle St., Cambridge, Mass. (drawing, reading, and flowers). Evelyn G., Corner Park and May Aves., St. Louis, Mo. (age 16; "devoted to literature, science, and art, in its widest sense; my heroes are Carlyle, Dickens, and the old English dramatists"). Every Young Contributor's article sent to us should be accompanied by the writer's post-office address, in order that, if accepted, it may be promptly paid for. Money in payment for accepted articles is always sent within a few days of the date of their acceptance, if we know where to send it; but sometimes no address is furnished, Edwin Bruce, No. 205 7th St. West, Washington, D. C. (correspondents between the ages of 16 and 19. All letters answered). Blanche B., Danvers, Mass. (age 15; reading, dancing, skating, and music). "Portia," care of Mrs. M. T. Roberts, 221% Pear St., Phila., Penn. (music, amateur and private theatricals, and fun in general). Hattie B. Barton, Factory Village, Greenfield, Mass (would like to correspond with some girl about 12 years of age, who is fond of reading and music). Miss Lulu G. Clark, Bangor, Me. (correspondents not younger than 14; miscellaneous subjects). Katie Allen, Berlin, Wis. (age 15; school and miscellaneous subjects). Nellie F. Wells (age 14), Box 57, and Sadie E. Robinson (age 16), Box 2, Hyde Park, Mass. EARING a raid upon his melon-patch, which bad boys in the neighborhood were beginning to molest, the squire had stayed at home to watch it that Sunday afternoon. He had seen Jack with his dog and basket cross the fields, go to Aunt Patsy's house, and afterwards enter the woods; and, feeling the interest of a stern moral censor in the conduct of all Sabbath-breaking boys, he had followed him to the hollow log. Lion's indiscreet barking had at first served to guide him to the spot; and afterwards his equally unfortunate silence, in consequence of the punishment he had suffered for that offence, favored the old man's stealthy approach. To have the faintest idea of the emotions that agitated the squire at sight of Jack and the shoes full of coin,the wrath, the surprise, the avarice, one must have seen him as he stood there, or have heard Jack (as I have heard him many times) describe the grim and frowning figure that met his eyes. "What's this, what's this, eh?" cried Peternot, taking a stride forwards. "Money! on my land!" and the gray eyes glittered. "Ha! ha! This, then, is the meaning of all that talk about treasure-trove the other day !" Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by JAMES R. OSGOOD & Co., in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. Jack felt so stunned for the moment that he did not attempt to speak, or even to rise. He sat on the ground, guarding his shoes, keeping one hand on the rim of the basket, and looking up steadily at the squire with eyes full of mingled fear and defiance. "So, so! What have you got in your basket?" And the stiff-jointed old man stooped to remove the coat which Jack had taken the precaution to spread over it each time when he entered the log. "Here! you just leave that alone!" exclaimed Jack, while Lion gave a fierce growl. The squire dropped the garment instantly, but he had pulled it far enough from the basket to expose its surprising contents. "Boy!" said he, in still greater amazement, "are you a robber?" "Like enough I am," muttered Jack, quite willing that he should take that view of the case. "Boy!" repeated Peternot, with awful severity, "you've stolen this money, and it's my duty to have you arrested. I am a justice of the peace." Jack changed countenance at that. "I've stolen it about as much as I stole Mr. Chatford's horse and buggy once, which you were so sure of, when they were all the while standing under the shed at the Basin, just where Mr. Chatford left them." "Then how did you come by so much money?" "If you must know, I found it in this log," said Jack, with a sudden determination to tell the plain truth, and stand or fall by it. |