It was a terrific storm. The wind swept down the river, raising a ridge of white water in its path. The rain came down harder, so the boys thought, than they had ever seen it come down before, and the glare of the lightning and the crash of the thunder were frightful. "What luck it is that we got the tent pitched in time!" exclaimed Joe. "We're as dry and comfortable here as if we were in a house." "Pick your blankets up quick, boys," cried... more...

BABY, BEE, AND BUTTERFLY. BY MARY D. BRINE.   aby, Bee, and Butterfly,Underneath the summer sky.Baby, bees, and birds together,Happy in the pleasant weather;Sunshine over all around,In the sky, and on the ground;Hiding, too, in Baby's eyes,As he looks in mute surpriseAt the sunbeams tumbling overMerrily amid the clover,Where the bees, at work all day,Never find the time for play.Happy little baby boy!Tiny heart all full of joy;Loving... more...

OLD FATHER TIME. "Professor," said May, turning on the sofa where she was lying, "Jack has brought me a calendar that runs for ever so many years. You know the doctor says I'll not be well for two whole years, or perhaps three. I have been wondering what month among them all I shall be able to run about in; and then I began to think who could have made the first calendar, and what led him to do it." "That's very simple, May. Old Father Time... more...

Mrs. Douglas was looking over her shopping list, and Lily Douglas was looking over her mother's shoulder. The Christmas Charity Fair was so soon to be held that Mrs. Douglas had a world of business to attend to, for of course her table must be full of pretty things suitable for the season. She was going out this morning to finish all her purchases, and Lily had been promised a corner of the carriage if she would be as quiet as she knew how to be,... more...

CLAUDINE'S DOVES. BY MRS. E. W. LATIMER. A few days since, as I was driving in the Bois de Boulogne with a friend, a slender, sweet young girl was pointed out to me. She was walking beside her mother, and there was a loving, tender look in her blue eyes, a shrinking modesty in her deportment, which interested me at the first glance. She was apparently about fifteen. I observed to the friend who pointed her out to me that she was fair,... more...

The policeman did not return, and the boys slept until an hour after sunrise. They then rowed down the river to the steamboat landing, where they left their boat in charge of a boatman, and went to a hotel for breakfast. The waiters were rather astonished at the tremendous appetites displayed by the four sunburned boys, and there is no doubt that the landlord lost money that morning. After breakfast, Harry went to the express office, where he... more...

SOME QUEER RACING-CRAFT. The illustrations on this page are of two varieties of sail-boats that are very common in the vicinity of New York, and quite rare in other parts of the country. They are boats built expressly for speed, and are used almost entirely for racing. The upper of the two pictures represents a regatta of swift sailing craft that, as can be readily seen, would be totally unfit for a cruise of any length, nor would they be of... more...

JOHN KERZAR, HANNAH DUSTIN, AND THE INDIANS. It was in August, 1692. John Kerzar, who lived on the banks of the Merrimac, a few miles from the sea, went out into his meadow with his scythe to cut grass. He took his gun along with him to shoot a bear if he saw one in his corn, or an Indian if one made his appearance. He leaned his gun against a tree, and went on with his mowing, not knowing that an Indian was crawling through the tall grass... more...

OUR NATIONAL ANNIVERSARY. BY BENSON J. LOSSING. ON the morning of a brilliant day in October, 1760, the heir apparent to the British throne and his groom of the stole, were riding on horseback near Kew Palace, on the banks of the Thames. The heir was George, son of the deceased Frederick, Prince of Wales; the groom was John Stuart, Earl of Bute, an impoverished descendant of an ancient Scottish chieftain. The prince was young, virtuous, and... more...

"Don't be angry, ma'ma—I wont jest any more, if it displease you, but I will make a plain confession." "Well," said Mrs. Clifford, "let me hear it." "I have not one feeling which I wish to conceal from you. There have been moments when I liked Mr. Franklin," and a pretty color crossed her cheek, "but I have been struck with a peculiarity which has chilled warmer sentiments. He appears phlegmatic and cold. There is about him a perpetual... more...