Harper's Young People, November 2, 1880

OUT OF THE WOODS

BY A. TEMPLE BELLEW

In that rocky part of New York State called Sullivan County lived a poor widow and her little daughter.

The cold weather was approaching – the trees showed that; the maples were in flames, and the surrounding woods had such varied leafage that at a distance they looked like the border of an Indian shawl. Yes, cold weather was approaching, and the widow said one morning, as she came up from the cellar, "Well, Nannie, we have potatoes enough to last all winter, so we sha'n't starve; but what ever we shall have to wear I don't know. I can't buy any clothes, that is certain."

"We'll wear our old ones," said Nannie.

"They ain't fit for carpet-rags, child. We must stay in the house all winter, I guess, unless we want to freeze to death."

Nannie grew grave, and her brown eyes were full of trouble, as she listened. She had not thought of clothes all summer; she had trotted about in her little calico dress as happy as a sparrow; and now she felt very much like that same sparrow when he sees the first snow-flakes come drifting through the air.

What could she do to help her mother? If it were something to eat, it would not be so difficult; she could pick up nuts – lots of them; but something to wear: that was a great deal harder. So she sat on the door-step puzzling her little brains, until her eyes happened to fall upon a necklace she had that morning made of scarlet mountain-ash berries, and a brilliant idea occurred to her: she would make a dress of leaves – of bright red leaves.

"I can make it just as easy," she said to herself; "I won't say a word to mother till it's all done. Won't she be glad when she sees me dressed up so nice? And then I'll tell her I can make lots of things just like it."

She had a spool of thread in her pocket, and a needle carefully stuck in her frock, so she had only to run off to the woods, without bothering any one.

Once there Nannie had no trouble in finding leaves enough, bright red ones, too – so red that they made her blink when she held them out in the sunlight. She filled her apron with those scattered on the ground, and picked a huge bunch of long rush-like grasses that grew in a small clearing; then seated herself on a low stone, ready for work, surrounded by scarlet and gold like a little empress.

The tiny fingers proved very deft, and the tiny brain very ingenious. Leaf overlapping leaf, like the scales of a fish, they were sewn on the grass stems, until a garment was shaped resembling what is fashionably called a princesse dress. The sleeves Nannie could not manage, so instead she put shoulder-straps with epaulets of leaves. She could hardly keep from dancing, she felt so delighted at the success of her plan. On went the gay suit of armor gleefully, but slowly, lest it should be harmed.

"Don't I look pretty?" sighed Nannie, in perfect content, as she glanced down at her leafy skirt; "but I can't wear that old sun-bonnet. I must make a new hat too."

Again the thread and needle, grass and leaves, were called into service. This time a queer comical cap, like Robinson Crusoe's, placed jauntily on her head, turned her into a wood-sprite indeed.

She primly picked her way through the wood, avoiding every brier as if it were poison-ivy, until she reached the opening; here she stood suddenly still, rooted to the spot by wonder. A man, a stranger, was there, sitting on a funny crooked kind of bench, doing something to a big board fastened to three long sticks in front of him. He seemed nearly as wonder-struck as Nannie for a moment; then, as she was about to move, he called out, "Who in the world are you, little fairy, and who dressed you up like that?"

He looked so pleasant that Nannie gave him a laugh for his smile, and answered promptly, "I did it my own self; ain't it pretty?"

"Yes, indeed; and what made you think of such a pretty dress?"

Then Nannie's little tongue being loosened, she told him all about it – how poor they were that year, and how badly her mother felt; in fact, chattered over all her small history, some parts of which made the stranger's blue eyes misty, while others made him smile, whereat Nannie had always to laugh in return – she very seldom smiled.

"Now," said the stranger, "do you think you could stand still for a short time?"

Nannie at once became motionless, and the stranger began to work away at the big board before him with some very thin sticks. Once in a while he would say, "There, you may move now; sit down on that stone and rest." Then Nannie would sit down until he asked if she felt like standing again, when she would spring to her feet and take her former position. She was beginning to feel very tired – so tired that her little tongue was quiet – when he said, "That will do, little one; come and look at this."

And she came beside him. Why, there she was on the board, scarlet dress and all; her black curls ruffling about her head, her big brown eyes wide open, and her cheeks as pink as king apples.

"Why, that's me!" she cried.

"Of course it is," laughed the stranger.

"Why, ain't I pretty! – only I wish I had my shoes on. I've got a pair in the house, but I only wear 'em in winter."

"It looks prettier in the picture without shoes," said the artist.

Then he told her that she had been a very good little girl; and taking a piece of something like green paper from his pocket, put it in her hand, saying,

"Give this to your mother, and tell her to buy you a nice warm dress with it. I am coming to see you to-morrow; and now good-by, little maid."

Then he stooped down and kissed her, and she ran away up the hill-side, covered with red leaves, and holding a green leaf in her hand – a wonderful green leaf, as she afterward discovered.

She rushed into the cottage like a small cannon-ball, and startled her mother not a little, appearing in such strange attire, and too breathless to tell her story except in excited snatches that puzzled more than they explained, and for a short time the widow thought that a three-legged man had stolen Nannie's clothes, and was coming to-morrow to steal hers; but as soon as Nannie regained breath she made her understand the real state of the case.

"Wonder what he is?" said the mother, puzzled. "Three sticks – a big board."

After long cogitation she decided that he must be "one of them archertics from New York as took your photergraph."

"He's real kind, anyway," she added. "Why, child, he's give you ten dollars!"

"Ten dollars!" gasped Nannie, with an overwhelming sense of wealth.

Next morning the stranger appeared in good season, and won the widow's heart by his courtesy.

"Jest as polite as if I was the minister's wife," she afterward told Nannie.

He explained the mystery of the big board and three sticks, and showed how they were used, getting Nannie to stand for him again in her dress of leaves.

Nannie opened her eyes when he told her that her picture was going to New York to hang in "a great big room called the Academy." "At least I hope so," he added, laughing.

He came many following mornings, always to paint Nannie, getting more interested every time in the simple-hearted widow and her bright little child, while they in turn delighted in his visits, his stories, and his painting.

At last the day came when he had to go back to the city. Nannie cried her eyes as red as the maple leaves, and they all felt that "good-by" was a very miserable word.

So the stranger went away, and the widow tried to console herself and Nannie by making a journey to the nearest town, and laying out the wonderful ten dollars in warm clothing for Nannie; but though Nannie got very busy and happy over her shopping, she did not forget her stranger friend, and felt even bright red flannel a very poor substitute for kind blue eyes.

Nannie spent the long white months very merrily, romping by day and sleeping by night, only one thing happening to vary the quiet life: at Christmas came a letter and a box of goodies from the stranger, then all went on as before.

By-and-by winter turned to spring in town and country, the spring fashions of one doing duty for the spring leaves of the other; and among the pleasantest of spring fashions in New York is – the Exhibition of that "great big room called the Academy," about which the stranger had told Nannie so much. And this fair April upon its walls hung the picture of a bright-faced little girl, clad and capped with scarlet leaves, coming out of the dim gray woods.

Of all the many visitors there not one passed it by unnoticed; young ladies all beauty and old ladies all back-bone and eyeglasses, artists gray-headed and young fellows just from Paris, one and all, and many more, stopped to admire the brown-eyed child so quaintly garmented. The morning and the evening papers, too, did not overlook it, but patted the young artist kindly with their pens. Rich people talked about it, and the richest bought it for the sake of saying that "the gem of the Exhibition" was in his gallery.

A few days after this a letter, registered and stamped carefully enough to carry it to China, had that been its destination, came to Nannie and her mother – a letter from the stranger, telling all about it, and sending to his "little good genius" a check for fifty dollars.

What other wonderful things were the result of that queer dress of leaves may perhaps be told some day.

THE LITTLE TEASE

"Now div me my dolly." If baby were ableTo talk in plain fashion, he'd certainly say,"I think you are awfully mean, sister Mabel,To trouble and tease me and vex me this way."But baby can only let grieving lips quiver,And lift little hand in an angry protest:Come, sister, from trouble the wee one deliver,'Tis naughty to pain him so, even in jest.New York City.

I like Young People very much, and can hardly wait from one number to another, I am so impatient to get it. All the stories are very interesting, and the pictures are beautiful. But I don't like the advertisements after the Post-office Box, because they keep out something I would like to read. I like "Old Times in the Colonies" very much.

Carrie M.

Our correspondent will see that her wishes have been anticipated. Henceforth all advertisements for Harper's Young People will be printed on a neat cover, as in the present number, and will no longer appear in the body of the paper. This cover will also serve to keep the paper clean, and the bound numbers at the end of the year will form a perfect book.

East Hampton, Connecticut.

My sister takes Young People, and I like it very much.

Eight of us girls have a society, which we call the Y. L. F. S. We have singing, readings, and charades, and have lots of fun. We meet around at the members' houses once in two weeks, on Monday evenings. Next time we meet we are all going to make speeches on politics. I am fifteen years old.

Violet S.

We should like very much to have a fuller report of the doings of this society. Now that the long winter evenings are approaching, societies of this description bring about much pleasant recreation, and if any systematic course of good reading is followed, enlivened by music, recitation, or discussion of any given topic, the benefit to the members becomes of an importance beyond mere social enjoyment.

New Orleans, Louisiana.

I have taken Young People since No. 36; papa subscribed for me then. I like "The Moral Pirates" and "Old Times in the Colonies" best of all, and I am very fond of reading the letters of the little boys and girls in the Post-office Box.

I go to a large private school one block from my house. I speak French and English, and I am learning to play the piano. I have a splendid black cat, named Beauty.

Virginia S.Mayersville, Mississippi.

I have taken Young People from the first number, and am perfectly delighted with it. My subscription will soon be out, but I am going to renew it.

We have a very nice time here playing on the riverbank in the sand. There is some beautiful grass growing on the sand-bar in the river opposite our town.

Della R. S.Wyoming, Illinois.

I am eleven years old. I have no pets, except a canary named Freddie, but I have a play house, and I think it is a very nice one. I have four nice dolls, and a doll carriage, and in the play house I have a bureau, table, chair, cupboard, blackboard, and a very nice set of dishes. The house is carpeted, and the rain does not get into it. I have a girl's velocipede, and I ride on it to school. I have some plants of my own.

Hattie G. S.Canton, New York.

I have a black dog named Jet. He will sit up, sing, speak, shake hands, stand up and beg, and lie down when I tell him. I have an aquarium, and I tried to get some sticklebacks, but they all had five spines. Are they the kind that make nests?

I have two turtles, and would like to know how to keep them through the winter.

I am making a squirrel cage, and am very anxious to catch a gray squirrel. And I have a collection of birds' eggs. I get nests and all. I am twelve years old.

Mark M.

All kinds of sticklebacks, so far as known, build nests. Set your turtles at liberty in the yard before the ground freezes, and they will take care of themselves until spring. Or if you are afraid of losing them, give them a tub of earth to bury themselves in during their long nap.

Jamaica Plains, Massachusetts.

Here are some directions for making a pretty decoration which some reader of Young People may like to try. Take a carrot, the largest and smoothest you can find, and cut off the pointed lower end. Then make a cup of the large upper part by carefully hollowing it out, leaving the bottom and sides a quarter of an inch thick. Bore some holes in the sides near the top. Three will do. Through these pass strings by which to suspend the cup. When it is finished fill it with water, and hang it in a sunny window, and it will soon send out leaves from the bottom, and become a very pretty hanging basket. Never allow all the water to evaporate, but put in a little fresh every day. If the carrot is large enough to allow the sides and bottom to be left thicker, the green leaves will last longer and be more abundant.

Daniel D. L.New York City.

I thought perhaps you would like to hear of a plan we have made. It is this: We are going to have a club, each member of which takes Young People, and every Friday we meet to read the stories and work out the puzzles. I wish other children would try this plan, and write to the Post-office Box how they succeed.

N. D.Watertown, New York.

My papa has taken Young People for me since the first number. I read it all through. I think "Mirthful Magic" is very funny.

I have two pet bantam chickens, and they are very tame. I hold them as I would a kitten. I have four caterpillars that I am feeding on apple leaves, and one that has spun a cocoon. I am seven years old.

Z. C.New Haven, Connecticut.

Since my request for exchange was published in Young People I have received no less than ten letters every day. My time is pretty well taken up at present, but I wish to say to all correspondents who have sent me postmarks that I will answer them as soon as possible.

James A. Snedeker.

I wish to inform the egg collectors with whom I have exchanged specimens that I have changed my residence. I would be very happy to exchange some of my eggs for Indian arrow-heads, as well as for other varieties of eggs. My new address is

I. Quackenboss,169 Schermerhorn Street, Brooklyn, New York.Toledo, Ohio.

I have received so many letters in answer to my request for exchange of minerals that I can not answer them all immediately, as my school duties keep me very busy. I will answer them all in time. I have no more specimens to exchange at present.

Carrie Thorner.

I have a great many different kinds of Iowa postmarks, and will send one hundred to any reader of Young People who will send me some pretty thing in return.

I have taken Young People ever since it was published. I am almost eleven years old.

Lucy Henderson,Cedar Rapids, Linn County, Iowa.

I would like to exchange stamps of all kinds with any boys or girls who take Young People. I will also exchange a piece of cedar of Lebanon for a reasonable number of stamps.

Samuel McMullin, Jun.,Circleville, Pickaway County, Ohio.

I would like to exchange rare stamps for foreign or United States coins with any readers of Young People.

Sidney Abenheim,127 East Sixty-ninth Street, New York City.

I have a large number of foreign postage stamps that I would like to exchange. I have also a large collection of mineral and Indian curiosities. I think Young People is a splendid paper.

William Harris,226 Fort Street West, Detroit, Michigan.

I have gained about one hundred and fifty stamps by exchange since my letter was printed in Young People. I am collecting sea-shells and curiosities, which I would also like to exchange.

Vernon L. Kellogg,P. O. Box 413, Emporia, Kansas.

I have taken two copies of Young People ever since it was published, one of which I send to my cousin, and the other I keep for myself.

I am collecting minerals, shells, animal and vegetable curiosities, stamps, coins, and relics, and would like to arrange an exchange of these articles with any correspondent.

Louis N. Brown, care of Ph. Hake,155 William Street, New York City.

I have a large collection of internal revenue stamps which I would like to exchange for foreign stamps and postal cards.

William H. Pike,20 Edinboro' Street, Boston, Massachusetts.

My brother has taken Young People for me since the first number. He says it is a splendid paper for children, because it contains no trash. We like it so much we are going to have it bound.

I have two pet cats. Dick is the name of one. He is seventeen years old, and was born in the barn on the same day that my brother was born in the house. I call them twins. The other cat I call Kitty. She was born about one week before my other brother, and is fourteen years old. She is getting very weak now, and we do not think she will live as long as Dick, who is still very lively.

I would like to exchange slips of fern grown in New Jersey for fern from any other State with any girl. I wish to get a specimen of fern from every State and Territory if possible.

Julia D. Moore,1107 Locust Street, Camden, New Jersey.

I take Young People, and I think it is the best paper I ever saw for little folks. I expect to take it till I am grown up, and that will be a long time, as I am only eleven years old.

I would like to exchange flower seeds for geranium and fuchsia slips, or ocean curiosities. I have many kinds of seeds which I raised myself.

Annie Sidney Duffie,Princeton, Arkansas.

I am twelve years old, and have taken Young People since April, when I received a year's subscription for a birthday present. I always look forward with pleasure to its coming.

I, too, am making a collection of postage stamps, and would like to exchange with readers of Young People. I have several hundred, among which are Danish, Norwegian, Japanese, and other foreign issues.

Nellie Hyde,162 Third Street, Oakland, California.

I am making a collection of stones, one from each State. I will exchange a stone from Iowa or Missouri for one from any other State. If Jessie I. Beal will send me a stone from Michigan, I will gladly exchange with her.

Lotta R. Turner, P. O. Box 705,Keokuk, Lee County, Iowa.

I received several very satisfactory answers to my request for exchange of stamps. I would now like to get a Chinese and an Italian stamp. I will exchange for them French and German stamps, or morning-glory or double-hollyhock seeds. I will also exchange these seeds or postmarks for new postmarks.

Willie D. Vater,Office of the Daily Journal, Lafayette, Indiana.

Since my request for exchange was printed in the Post-office Box I have received over one hundred letters, and have gained about four hundred stamps. I have now thirteen hundred. If any other readers of Young People would like to exchange with me, I will be very glad to do so, especially if they have any duplicates of rare stamps.

Lewis S. Mudge,Princeton, New Jersey.

I wish to exchange postmarks with any boy or girl in the United States or Canada.

H. L. McIlvain,120 North Fifth Street, Reading, Pennsylvania.

I am studying natural history, and am very fond of it. I would like to exchange specimens of minerals and insects, especially with "Wee Tot."

Frances M. Heaton,Flushing, Long Island.

I am making a collection of minerals, and would be glad to exchange petrified wood, celestine, satin spar, chalcedony, fossil shells, or concrete sand balls for other minerals, or Indian relics.

I am a reader of Young People, and like it very much.

Herbert E. Peck,P. O. Box 296, Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Mabel C. – We suggest "Agate Club" as a pretty name for your society. In the language of gems agate signifies prosperity. Take each letter of the word as the initial of another gem, and let the sentiments of these gems be the mottoes of your club. You can give the name this interpretation: agate, prosperity; garnet, constancy; amethyst, love and truth; topaz, friendship; emerald, faith. If you wish for a club pin, you can have an agate in a simple setting, which would be a very pretty ornament, and not expensive.

Boston, Massachusetts.

I would like to know if the story about Captain Cook's goat is true.

Willie W.

We only know of one goat connected with Captain Cook. This travelled beast twice circumnavigated the globe – first in the ship Dolphin, with the early discoverer Captain Wallis: and secondly in the ship Endeavor, with Captain Cook. After the goat arrived in England for the second time, the Lords of the Admiralty granted it the privilege of a residence in Greenwich Hospital, and a silver collar was put around its neck, inscribed with a Latin couplet composed by Dr. Johnson. But the goat, like many other old sailors, did not apparently thrive on dry land, for it died in April, 1772, as it was about to be given to the old seamen at Greenwich for a pet, and less than a year after its return from the long voyage with Captain Cook.

C. B. M. – Postage stamps, if they are clean and in good order, will be received in payment for the covers of Harper's Young People.

"Bill." – We refer you to the advertisement of toy steam-engine in Harper's Young People No. 53.

Ernst H. – Your insect from Colorado answers the description of the caddis-worm. This worm, which is a soft, white creature, lives under water in a movable house which it makes for itself out of bits of stone, pieces of shell, and grains of sand. It feeds on minute particles of water refuse. When its life as a worm is ended it forms a chrysalis, from which issues a fly with hairy wings called the caddis-fly, of which there are many species. The caddis-worm is much used as bait by fishermen.

The following communication is longer than those we can, as a rule, admit to the Post-office Box, but as we are sure it will be interesting to other little mothers of doll families, we make an exception in its favor:

My family of dolls are unfortunately all orphans. I had the parents of the four girls named French, but my brother Jack sat on the head of the papa, and hopelessly crushed it. The mamma I left too long in a sun bath, and her beautiful wax complexion melted all away.

Dora French is the oldest girl, and has auburn hair like the Empress Eugenie. Her hair comes off sometimes, but I use a sticking stuff for tonic, and fasten it on just as the ladies do their puffs. Dora is very graceful, and turns her head beautifully. She wears blue, to suit her hair.

Sue French is a brunette with handsome black eyes, long black hair, and bangs. She is very beautiful. My uncle sent her to me as soon as she arrived from France. She is named for my aunty Sue.

Lizzie French, the third girl, came over in the same steamer with Sue. She is the sweetest blonde, and is called for my own mamma. Both Sue and Lizzie are very fond of dress.

Louise French is the intelligent one of the family. She talks beautifully, and is always calling for mamma and papa; but, poor thing, they never answer her. Perhaps if they were alive, and had the strings in their sides pulled as hard as I pull those of poor Louise, they would answer lively enough. Louise has lovely teeth, but by an accident one was knocked out.

The baby is named Minnie. She is an American, and the pet of all the dolls. A lady found her in a doll's orphan asylum, or rather a big store. She is just too lovely for anything, and has lots of long clothes, like a real baby. She has a cradle with sheets, blankets, pillows, and quilts; a pretty baby carriage; a baby basket, lined with blue and trimmed with lace, which holds her brush, comb, sponge, soap, towels, nursing bottle, and rattle. She has caps, cloaks, and an afghan for her carriage.