"Well, sir," answered Ruthie, rather carefully, "aunt Jo says she'd rather have me without any capers. She says they make me too much like a boy." "O, they do, hey?" said Dixie the Ogre, pushing her away from him; "then I won't try them. Hum, houf! make you too much like a boy, do they? I hate boys. Ugh!" And he looked out of the window and shook his fist at the four pages who were now swimming back to the steam yacht. "Why, let me see," he said suddenly, taking Ruthie by the chin and turning her face up to his, "aren't you that Ruthie that took pity on poor little Gracie the other day when you were playing Dixie's Land?" "Why, yes, sir," Ruthie replied modestly. "You see she was tired of being it all the time and I let her catch me so that she could have a chance at playing." "I thought so, I thought so," said Dixie the Ogre. "Well, now I'll tell you," he added, mus THE SAUCY PAGES DARE DIXIE. ingly. "I'll let you off this time for being such a generous little girl, but you must do three things before I can let you go." "I'll try, sir," said Ruthie. "You see, my conscience is very tender," he explained, "and if I let you off without worrying you a little, why, my conscience will never give me any peace. Now you shall go free if you will do these three things for me: First, you must put yourself through the keyhole; second, you must run around the world in less than a minute; third, you must sing a song, speak a piece, or tell a story, on any subject I select. See-hay, hum, ha?" "O-forfeit, forfeit; what fun!" said little Jumping Joan, delightedly. "Hum, houf, hum-midget!" said Dixie the Ogre, glaring at little Jumping Joan and rubbing his broken leg; "who said anything about four feet, hey, hum, ha? Two feet are more than I can take care of. Come, go on, you," he said to Ruthie. "Well, what was the first thing?" she asked. "You were to put yourself through the keyhole," he replied. "Run around the world in less than a minute. Hey, hum, ha; that's not so easy, is it?" he added. "Oh, that's easy enough," said Ruthie carelessly, as she took a copy of The World newspaper from Dixie's writing-table. Placing the newspaper on the floor, in the centre of the room, she ran rapidly around it twice, picked it up and handed it to the astonished Dixie. "There, sir, that's done," she said, with another courtesy. "Houf, houf," said Dixie the Ogre, too much surprised for further comment. "Next?" asked Ruthie complacently. "You were to sing a song, speak a piece, or tell a story, as I might select; now, repeat the poet Eightymoon's beautiful stanzas, beginning, 'shake, shake, shake; and, remember, I'm very critical," he added. Then Ruthie dropped into the regulation school position, made a little courtesy and began: 66 Shake, shake, shake, With your cold, green fruit, O tree; And I would that my tongue could utter, The thoughts that arise in me. O, 'tis well with the fisherman's boy Who came here with the mackerel to-day; O, 'tis well with the grocer's man Who is calling there, over the way. For their stomachs so strong, can stand But O, that my touch of the vanished fruit, Shake, shake, shake, To my feet all your fruit, O tree; I shall eat, though I know that the tempting taste, Will end in a pain with me. Beautifully and touchingly rendered," said Dixie the Ogre, applauding vigorously. "I must congratulate you on your delightful elocution even though I know that your success deprives me of a dish of roast Ruthie with mint sauce. Allow me to conduct you around the castle," and, limping dreadfully, but with excessive politeness, Ruthie's singular host showed her all his mansion - his furniture, his jewels, his treasure, and even his museum, containing his seven-league boots, the crowns of the twelve little Ogresses whom Hop O' My Thumb helped to destroy, and the copper boiler into which Jack crawled when he was hiding from the Ogre of the Beanstalk. Then, conducting them to the great golden door, he saw them down the staircase and bade them a courteous good-by, adding in evident regret as he patted Ruthie's plump cheeks, "Ah, it is such a sacrifice, such a sacrifice! I sha'n't get over this in a month. You must taste deliciously with capers, or with oyster dressing. Don't you think so hey, hum, ha?" But, when Ruthie and little Jumping Joan reached the spot where they had landed, behold, the yacht had steamed away and on a great oak-tree a paper was tacked on which they read: "Gone to dinner. Will be back next year at half-past two. Please wait, or leave your name." you want to, though there is a risk about it." "How so?" Ruthie inquired. Syoke Syoke "Why, once on a time," said little Jumping Joan, "there was a boy left his name here, and when he came back for it some one else had taken it; and as he didn't know himself when his name was gone, of course he got into trouble." "Dear me," Ruthie said, greatly concerned, "what became of him?" "Why, Dixie the Ogre came down here," little Jumping Joan explained, "and when he found the boy in such a pickle, he bottled him right up and put him away with the other relishes in the big preserve closet in the castle pantry." "Then I am certain I sha'n't leave my name," said Ruthie. "But, where shall we go?" "Well, if we can get across to Old Mammy Tipseytoes, we are all right," said little Jumping Joan. "But there is no boat here, and no fence where we can get a board, and the water is too deep to wade across. Now, if you only had your waterproof with you, or something of that sort, or even your overshoes, we might get over nicely." Ruthie felt in all her pockets. "I haven't anything at all," she said, "except my sister Jenny's geometry that she left at Mollie's house the other day and I am taking home to her. But we couldn't get over on a book, could we?" "Geometry, eh?" said little Jumping Joan. "O, Joan. "I shouldn't wonder but that we might be I'm afraid that's too heavy." able to use it. Let's try." 12. TANGLES. [Communications to this Department must be addressed to FRANK E. SAVILLE, P. O. Box 188, Boston, Mass.] ANSWERS TO MARCH TANGLES. B-lack; p-lane; e-yes; r-oars; w-are; c-ask; m-ice; c-row; h-air; p-arched. 13. Plum E A dor N Clin G I dle R I dyl S C ere S 14 G-rum-e; g-rove-1; d-ouch-e; flore-t; j-aunt-y; l-oath-e. 15. Р PAS PORES PARAPET SEPIA SEA 16. 1. Gambrel, gambler. 2. English, shingle. 3. Spears, sparse. 4. Sated, stead, date. 5. Burin, bruin. 6. React, cater. February Tangles were solved by B. Behrend, H. Wilbur Paret, David H. Miller, Alice M. Rogers, Carroll E. Edson, M. Campbell, Charlotte E. Little, M. H. Curran, Mary Foster, Alice L. Gates, Emma H. Scott, Master Gay Kress," Arale," George R. Ogden, Katie T. M'Collin, Leo Spitz, Francis Granger, Charley C. Sturtevant, Helen C. Chism, Miss Etta McPherson, Bessie Gallaher, Warren B. Lewis, Grace Gallaher, W. A. Chase, Mary E. Sawin, Millie Linder, Chas. M. Lowan, Gertrude Weil, B. H. Clark, Homer W. Abbott, Hortense Keables, Dot Fary, Dilla Smith, Carrie M. Lee, Sallie W. Reed, G. P. Baxter, Bessie Stratton, Willie H. Allison, Grace W. Goddard, Mary W. Howe, James W. Mann, D. B. Shumway, Herbert D'Corndie, C. E. Carman, Mattie M. Goodrich, E. A. Parsons, Mary F. Griffin, T. Emory Clocke, Fred Sherley, Frank Hayden, Laura G. Test, M. L. Spooner, M. L. Schoolfield, Bessie Boardman, I. B. Betts, Louise Boynton, Fanny Williams, Alden Marsh, Harry Endicott, Frankie J. Dick, Mellie Strayer, Ray Landfield, Isaac Laubenstien, Lira G. Clark, Clara L. Shattuck, Ethel M. Hill, Edith White, Willie Twing, Helen L. Nichols, Florence G. Hill, I. M. Barry, "Sphinx," Eliza M. Helmick, C. E. Barley, G. L. Burton, E. Lawrence Fell, Louis A. Huebener, Daisy Terrell, Alice M. Atkinson, E. Lewis Walker, Mrs. M. A. H. Waters, Theo. M. Kimball, Marshall Hartranft, Susie A. Wood, Willette Owen, Minnie R. Copper, Charlie L. Thurber, Joe H. Borland, Charlie J. McFarland, Geo. Fravel, Arthur D. Snow, Cora Wells, Thomas Wheeler, H. H. Romer, Elton Chatterton, Fannie Smith, Lottie Barton, Mary E. Beatty, Geo. S. Keyes, Jr., A Nonymous, O. R. Barnett, Henry O. Sniffen, Mattie McDearmon, Garnet Ryland, Mary and Laura Baker, Charlotte Baker, E. A. Pope, Bessie Wilson, Susie E. Evans, E. J. Whiton, Jennie E. Burton, Edith Peck, Mrs. Maxwell, Elwood Miller, Geo. P. Morris, Geo. E. Emerson, Helen B. Chapin, Joe Shiveley, Miss F. E. Weed, Miss G. French, Sophie Kearney, Anna Chamberlain, Sarah S. Deuel, Claire F. Hammond, Wm. H. Leete, Miss E. H. Stimson, Irene C. Farquhar, Walter G. Muirheid, Chas. F. Williams, Alice Pearl, Frank S. Hastings, Ada Curry, A. R. Wells, Mary Tibbitts, Geo. S. Bullock, Jr., Bessie Tyrrell, Harry Stephenson, "South Boston," Daniel Bobp, Sybil M. Wheeler. PRIZE WINNERS. No. 8. May W. Howe, No. Bennington, Vt. No complete list was received. |