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... 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,... 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... 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... more...

"Boys," said Tom, as he was kindling the fire the next morning, "do you know what day it is?" "Saturday, of course," replied the others. "You're wrong; it's Sunday." "It can't be," exclaimed Harry. "But it is," persisted Tom. "Last night was the sixth night that we've slept out-doors, and we started on a Monday." Tom was right;... more...

"Jim," said Charley, "has that dog of yours gone crazy?" "Old Nap? No. Why? What's the matter with him?" "Just look at the way he's diving in and out among the trees. He'll run full split right against one first thing he knows." "No, he won't. He's after rabbits. We're 'most to the swamp now, and Nap knows what we've come for... more...

A "WHITE SQUALL." Hurrah for the Mediterranean! Hurrah for the tideless sea! with its sunny skies and sparkling waters, blue and bright as ever, while English moors and German forests are being buried in snow by a bitter January storm! Well might one think that these handsome, olive-cheeked, barefooted fellows in red caps and blue shirts, who cruise about this "summer sea" in their trim... more...

The kite fever visited Hagarstown every year, and caught all the boys over five before it subsided. It generally crept in slowly, a boy and a kite at a time; but this year it came as if a big wind brought it. Yesterday there had been three kites up at one time in the main street, and Squire Jones's pony had been scared into a canter. The Squire, and Mrs. Jones, and the three Misses Jones, and Aunt... more...

NANCY HANSON'S PROJECT. BY HOWARD PYLE. It was in the old Quaker town of Wilmington, Delaware, and it was the evening of the day on which the battle of Brandywine had been fought. The country people were coming into town in sledges, and in heavy low carts with solid wheels made of slices from great tree trunks, loaded with butter, eggs, milk, and vegetables; for the following day was market-day.... more...

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