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Well, it's all the same, Jack, dear," said the Little School-ma'am. "You see, the Romans made"

"Dear me! please don't tell me that the Romans made October. It's not so stale as that. If you must derive it, why not make it up in this fashion: Oct, sumac; ober, maple. That would be more like it.

It's a real sumac-and-maple month, October is, made fresh every year!"

"I know, Jack, dear," she coaxed, gently. "That is in our part of the globe, you see; but countries and climates differ according to the latitude."

"Yes, that may be so," I insisted, "butWell, so it went on, till I was in nearly as great a muddle as some of you are now, my pets. Dear, dear! How much there is to be learned! I feel like apologizing to you for it; and yet it really is not my fault. It's mostly due to derivations, so far as I can make out. Therefore, turn to your big unabridged dictionaries, my poor chicks, and peck away at the O-C-T page.

Meantime, or immediately after, we 'll consider

SHADOW-TAILS.

TALKING of derivations, almost the cleverest one your Jack ever heard of is the origin of the word squirrel, which, it appears, comes in a roundabout, frisky way from the Greek word skiouros (skia, shade, and oura, a tail), hence squirrel, a shadow

ON THE TREE-PATH.

AND by the way, the ancient Greeks, with their skiouros, remind me that there 's a squirrel-letter in my pulpit pocket from a little girl. Here it is:

DEAR JACK: I thought I would write and tell you something. May be you know it already, but some of your hearers may not. Yesterday I spent the day with mother at a beautiful country-house. It has a two-story piazza and a great big lawn in front of it. Well, the lawn is very full of splendid trees, of different kinds, so close together that some of their branches touch their neighbors' branches, just as if the trees were shaking hands. Some of them don't touch at all, though they come pretty near it.

Now this is what I want to tell you: I was up on the upper piazza, looking into the trees, and there I saw a squirrel! It stood still on a bough for a minute, and then a bird came and alighted close by, and off went the squirrel to the end of the branch, and, in a twinkle, he jumped from there into the branches of another tree, and ran across that, and so into another tree, and another, till he went nearly all over that lawn without once going to the ground! Of course, the trees were near each other; but I noticed that he often had to make quite a jump. Once or twice he stopped to look around him. I guess he thought "Where am I now? What sort of a tree is this?" but then he would frisk his tail and be off. I never saw anything so funny or so nimble as he was. He was n't a flying-squirrel, either. I mean he had n't wings. But it did make me wish that I could be like him, for a little while, and run around in the tops of the cool CORA G. H.

green trees.-Your friend,

A QUEER TONGUE.

DEAR JACK: I have heard of tongues "strung in the middle and going at both ends," and even of one that seemed to be set "on a pivot, and going round and round without ceasing." But what would you say of a tongue that actually points downward or backward, the root being in the front of the mouth, and the tip pointing down the throat? Yet of course you know who it is that has a tongue of this queer kind. Do your chicks know, however? They may see him on a warm evening, hopping about the field or garden, or catching flies. And concerning his mode of eating, people say, "he darts out his long red tongue, and whips the poor flies into his mouth." But I happen to know that his tongue is not so very long, after all; and from the way it is attached, it does not need to be so long as if it were rooted far back in his mouth.-Truly yours, W. R.

HICKORY NUTS AND HICKORY NUTS.

WHEN word came from Stephen B., down in Connecticut, that he knew of "nine varieties of hickory-nuts, with twenty-five names shared among them," your Jack said to himself: "That sounds surprising; I should n't wonder if Stephen has been gathering from the encyclopedia a nut for me to crack."

Of course, though, I already was pretty well acquainted with nuts and nut-trees, to say nothing of nut-eaters. For instance, it has always gladdened my heart to look upon that ragged giant hickory-" Old Shag-bark," the children of the Red School-house call him-who lifts his leafy crown eighty feet above the knoll at the end of my meadow. And then there is the swamp-hickory, its graceful column standing seventy feet or more out of the hollow. His fruits, by the way, have thin shells, easy for strong little teeth to crack; but the kernels must taste bitter to make the little faces wrinkle up so queerly. And I have seen pignuts, and heard from my squirrels about the large Western hickory-nut, with its two-pointed shell.

Yet here comes our knowing friend, Stephen, telling of five hickories besides!-"the Pecan, growing chiefly in Texas; the Mocker-nut, with a wonderfully hard shell; the small-fruited hickory; the hickory with a nut as large as a good-sized apple; and the nutmeg-fruited hickory of South Carolina." And he goes on to say:

"The nuts from different kinds of hickory-trees sometimes are so much alike that it is difficult to call them by their right names. But most of them, especially the shag-bark, are fine eating. The naturalists call the butternut and walnut-near relatives of the hickoryby the name 'juglans,' which means the nut of Jove'; as much as to say, 'this nut is fit for a banquet of the gods.'

"My cousin Bob once wrote to me that at his school, in England,

the boys play with the half-shells of walnuts in this way: They push them against each other, point to point, on a table. The shell that splits its rival scores one for the victory, and one in addition for each of the shells that its beaten adversary had previously cracked. Bob says he once had a shell with an honest score of 397."

THE LIZARD'S "GLOVES."

My friend "Snow Bunting" asks if any of you youngsters have ever seen a lizard's "gloves" floating on the water of ponds or ditches. She says they look very pretty and have every finger perfect, and that even the wrinkles in the palms are plainly marked. They are so delicately thin, however, that if taken out of the water they fall together in a shapeless mass; but if dipped up carefully in some of the water, they sometimes keep their shape.

The "gloves" are really the old outer skin from the paws of the newt or water-lizard. He has several new suits a year, and he tears off his old coats in shreds, but the "gloves" come away whole. There must be numbers of these cast-off paw-coverings, but it is not likely that you will come across them, my dears, excepting in the deep woods, on the surfaces of pools and sluggish streamlets.

THE NUT HATCH..

OF all my bird-friends, Nuthatch is one of the sprightliest and cheeriest. It is a treat to see the little fellow run gayly up a tree, swiftly tap away with his bill for a few seconds, and then turn

and run down head-foremost, his round little tail standing up saucily behind. He also has the queer habit of sleeping with his head downward, but whether this gives him bad dreams or not, he never has told me. I should think it would, especially after a hearty supper of nuts.

He eats, also, caterpillars, beetles, and insects, and hoards up his nuts in the holes of trees. Look out for him, my wood-roaming youngsters, and try to watch him when he is about to eat a nut from his store. You will see him carry it in his sharp bill and set it firmly in some convenient chink; then he will bore a hole in the shell with his bill

and pick out the sweet kernel, turning his head from side to side and looking sharply about him. If he should catch sound or sight of you,-Whip! -Out would come the nut from the chink, and away would fly Mr. Nut-hatch, to finish his luncheon in greater privacy.

But I never have heard him sing, nor pipe, nor even chirrup; whenever I have seen him he has been too busy to spare time for such frivolity! And yet his quick ways and gay manner speak volumes in themselves, and a flash from his bright eye is as good as a cheering strain of melody.

A SUBMARINE "FIRE-FLY."

I'M informed that you are to be told this month, my dears, about some curious living lanterns. And, just in the nick of time, Mr. Beard throws some more light on the subject, with this picture of what he calls a "submarine fire-fly."" It

THE SUBMARINE "FIRE-FLY."

really is a shell-fish, and at the tail-end are two wing-like pieces which help the creature to make its way in the water. At the pointed front end of the shell is a queer little round fleshy bubble, which, at night, gives out a light so strong that, even with a lamp shining near to it,-as in the picture,-its brightness is but little dimmed.

What with butterflies and sea-robins, and fireflies and fire-fish, and similar wonders, it does seem to your Jack that Nature has a queer way of making inhabitants of the water copy the forms and actions of land animals. Or perhaps the land animals are the copyists? Who knows?

NEW GAMES ASKED FOR.

THE LITTLE SCHOOL-MA'AM MAKES A SUGGESTION.

DEAR BOYS AND GIRLS: ST. NICHOLAS, as many of you know, has given descriptions of a great number of games and pastimes during the eight years of its existence-but, much as we girls and boys have enjoyed these, we do not find them sufficient. We need more. "We have a great deal of play in us," as a bright little girl once said to me, "but we want to know what to do with it." So it lately occurred to me to lay the matter before the editors, and this is what they say:

"If the boys and girls who read ST. NICHOLAS, in all parts of the world, will send plain descriptions of the games they play,especially of such as they believe to be peculiar to their own localities, we will print as many of the descriptions as we can, month by month. No space can be given to games that are universally known and that already have been fully described in print; unless some change should be made in them well worthy of notice. Now and then a simple diagram can be used, to save a long description in words; but, of course, we can not promise to publish everything that

may be sent in. The games may be for out-doors, for in-doors, for boys, for girls, for boys and girls together, and for any number of players, from two to a hundred.

"The games should be clearly and concisely described, with explicit directions; and each one printed shall be promptly paid for, even before the publication of the number that contains it. While we prefer that the young writers should write carefully, we do not expect great finish of style, nor labored productions. Our object is to induce the young folks to write to us freely and to tell us of the games they play, old as well as new,- simply telling us which ones they believe to be new."

And now, boys and girls, the way is open for you all, to make a complete and friendly exchange of games and various forms of frolic. The children of the Red School-house will be able to help, I hope; and every grown-up boy and girl, who remembers some good pastime of former days, must be sure to let us know all about it. I shall be glad to hear what games you like best of those you describe, and also which you enjoy most of the fresh ones learned through this new plan; and, if any amusing incident happens in the course of your fun, jot that down, too.

So, TO WORK! is the word. Write on but one side of the paper, give your full post-office address, and send the letters to Yours, in both work and play,

THE LITTLE SCHOOL-MA'AM.

In care of The Century Co., 743 Broadway, New York.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: As my father took me on a trip to Niagara Falls last May, I am much interested in the question asked by "Snow Bunting" in the August ST. NICHOLAS.

I have read an article on Niagara by Professor Tyndall, and he estimates that 35,000 years ago the falls were situated where the village of Queenston now stands, or about seven miles below their present position. At that time there was probably but one fall, and that was twice the height of the falls at the present day.

The cliff over which this immense volume of water fell was composed of strata of limestone; and as time passed on, layer after layer was broken off by the action of the water, until Goat Island was reached. Here the river separated, forming two falls, the Horseshoe and American.

Professor Tyndall also considers it probable that if Niagara continues to recede at the rate of a foot a year, it will reach the upper end of Goat Island in 5,000 years; and in 11,000 years the falls will be of but half the height they are now. I am glad I have seen the falls before they become so low, and I suppose people who will be living 11,000 years hence (if there be any!) can never understand how beautiful Niagara was in A. D. 1881.

The shape of the Horseshoe Fall has entirely changed within the last twenty years, for a huge mass of rock has fallen from the center of the cliff, making a right angle instead of a horseshoe. Many people think this change of form has lessened the beauty of the fall, but I do not see how it ever could have been more beautiful than

when I first saw it, on a perfectly clear afternoon in May. We stayed a week at Niagara, and as the moon was full I hoped to see the lunar bow, but we could not, as it was only visible about twelve o'clock at night. However, I was so delighted with the moonlight on the Rapids that I forgot my disappointment about the lunar bow. ELEANOR GRAEME NIXON,

C. L. D. sends a letter on the same interesting subject.

"NOT INVITED."

THE picture on page 959 of the present number shows you an interesting scene, familiar enough in any of our large cities: The great church is filled with spectators - friends of the happy pair who are about to be wedded; the bridal carriages have just driven up to the curb-stone; and the bride and bridesmaids are passing beneath the canvas canopy up the steps of the church. The bride hears the first swelling notes of the great organ, and she feels that all the people within the building are looking impatiently for her appearance, but is quite unconscious that at this very moment she is the admiration of a small crowd of uninvited lookers-on-barefooted boys and girls, who are eagerly peering through the canopy.

In New York, an awning such as this at a church-door is quickly espied by the sharp eyes of street boys and girls; and a fine wedding, with its bustle, its swiftly rolling carriages, and its cheerful crowds in gay attire, is as great an event to them as to many of the invited guests. In their eagerness, they even put their heads down beneath the folds of the canvas, much as they would if it were a circus-tent. And, if to see the bridal party be the great event of a wedding, we are not sure that these uninvited little waifs do not often have the best of it. Their stolen glimpse through the canopy is no doubt a nearer and better view than can be obtained by many of the honored friends within, who have to stare across the crowded pews.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Papa tells me stories that his friends tell while in his office. I like to hear them, and may be some of the readers of the ST. NICHOLAS would, too. Here is one:

"I was rowing through the Sounds one day, when, looking toward one of the clam-flats, I saw a strange object some distance ahead of