Homepage
Login
Profile
BookClubs
dmBox
Read Ebook: Harper's Young People May 30 1882 An Illustrated Weekly by Various
Font size:
Background color:
Text color:
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page
Ebook has 102 lines and 8780 words, and 3 pages
anced at the picture of the circus coming in, I thought they were taking him away again.
We have some flowers in our back yard, and we like them very much. The seeds are just coming up, and I take great interest in watching them. We have some very pretty pansies, roses, and bridal-wreaths. They are blooming now. I brought some wild flowers from the woods, and my sister brought some violets; they are growing very nicely. We have but one geranium, and its blooms are shrivelled. I do not know what to do to it.
I like to write stories very much, and I love dearly to draw pictures. Last Tuesday was very warm, and you would have thought it was summer if you had suddenly been transported to Washington.
EMILY N.
Perhaps your geranium needs rest. Try the plan of pinching off every bud for the next few weeks. The soil may need enriching, or you may have watered it too freely.
BROOKLYN, NEW YORK.
I have written to HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE three times, and none of my letters have been printed; but I believe in perseverance, so I am going to try again. I have never read any paper I liked half as well as HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE. Papa gets it for me, and I read it to my little brother. One night I was reading "Tim and Tip" to him, and I happened to look up, and he was crying. He didn't want me to think he was crying, so he said, "It's only the water that comes out of my eyes." I like Jimmy Brown's stories very much. I think all of the stories in the paper are very interesting. Jimmy Brown and Georgie Hackett seem to possess about the same qualities. My favorite study in school is history.
EMMA.
I do not know Georgie Hackett, but poor Jimmy is certainly an interesting boy, though I would not care to have him living at my house, unless he could behave better than he now does. Perseverance is an excellent quality. You could not have a better motto than
"If at first you don't succeed, Try, try again."
SANBORN, DAKOTA TERRITORY.
KATIE S.
JUNCTION, IDAHO.
I am a little boy seven years old. I take HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, and I like it very much. I think "Toby Tyler" and "Mr. Stubbs's Brother" are the best of all. Blue Ribbon has a little kitten; she is teaching it to walk. I have a horse; his name is Old Indian. The reason I call him Old Indian is because we bought him of the Indians. I have some nice rides on him. We live on a ranch, and have lots of little calves and little chickens. I do not go to school, but study my lessons at home. I send one dollar for Young People's Cot.
OLIVER T. C.
Your contribution has been sent to the lady who receives and takes care of the money for Young People's Cot. Is Blue Ribbon the little kitten's mother? I hope Old Indian is a gentle pony. From his name I should think he might be quite fiery.
"PAPA, WHAT MAKES THE RAIN COME?"
Mabel and Ethel can't write for themselves, and they do not know that I am writing to the Post-office Box to tell other little girls about them. What here follows is not a made-up story; it is set down almost word for word as it was spoken. The girls were in their little beds, talking about different things, and papa was sitting at the table reading a book by the light of the lamp. Thunder was heard in the distance, and Ethel remarked that the rain was coming. This led Mabel to ask the question which forms the title of this letter, "Papa, what makes the rain come?"
While thinking about the best way to make her understand the wonderful and beautiful natural process--how the sun draws up vapors from land and sea, and stores the treasures of rain in the clouds, returning them in showers of blessings upon the earth--Ethel broke in with her views, thus relieving me of a difficulty. So I kept quiet as a mouse, and listened while pretending to read. Ethel, half raising herself in bed, thus explained:
"Why, Mabel, I will tell you what makes the rain come. You see, God is up there above the clouds, and He has wings, and flies from place to place, all over. Then, you know, He has a pump, with a big deep well, with lots, oh! lots of water in it, and on the pump there is a rubber tube, with a sprinkler fastened to it. And then He pumps, and pumps, and pumps, and the angels they pump, and the water comes, and spurtles, and spurtles, and spurtles, and spurtles, and spurtles, and spurtles; and that's what makes the rain come."
These were the child's thoughts and expressions on the beautiful phenomena of the rain. The explanation seemed sufficient and satisfactory, as both little thinkers forthwith resigned themselves into the loving arms of "tired nature's sweet restorer," and were carried far away into the happy land of dreams.
F. J. T. FARMINGTON, MINNESOTA.
CHURCHVILLE, MARYLAND.
As the day is rainy, we have been looking over HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, and seeing so many nice letters in Our Post-office Box. I thought, by way of variety, I would send one from Harford County. I have two sisters. One is a teacher, and she is going to read some pieces out of your paper to the children in her school.
We have a colt named Pinafore. The other day I turned another horse, with a halter on, into the same field with him. Pin caught the halter in his mouth, and led him about as he had seen us do. I have a Scotch terrier dog named Jack. I hitch him to a little wagon, and he is better trained than the speckled pig in No. 132.
I think your paper is just splendid, but like to read "Mr. Stubbs's Brother" the best of all. I went to see Jumbo in Baltimore.
FRANK B.
OUR BABY BOY.
Oh, he's so sweet, The darling thing! On his small feet We kisses fling.
He plays, he crows, Can laugh and sing, And thinks he knows 'Most everything.
He goes to bed So sweet at night; You'll hear his tread Soon as 'tis light.
He plays, you know. The whole day through, And he can blow His trumpet new.
All places round, No sweeter toy Than this is found-- Our baby boy.
DAISY M. DAVENPORT, IOWA.
BAYFIELD, WISCONSIN.
I am thirteen years old, and have a little adopted sister, whose name is Elsie, and whom I love just as much as if she were my own sister. She is seven years old. I wish the readers of YOUNG PEOPLE could see my canary-bird. His name is Jim. I often let him out of his cage, and sometimes he comes hopping up to me, and then he will chirp until I give him a piece of apple or orange.
SUSIE P.
Would it not be nice if we could have all the cunning and beautiful pets our little friends write about arranged together in a great exhibition? As this is impossible, we must try to see each of them from the pretty pen pictures their little owners send.
PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA.
G. W. H.
I am seven years old. I have a little brother five and a dear little sister two years old. I go to school, and my brother goes to the kindergarten. I will tell you how my little sister said her prayers last night. She said, "God bless mamma and papa, and our dear, dear kittie cat. Amen." We thought it was so cute. I envy the little boys who live in the country. I have never been out of the city, but hope to go for all the summer. This is the first letter I have ever written.
LUCAS N.
NEW YORK CITY.
I want to tell you of my pets. I have a little pug dog; his name is Punch. I have such fun with him, he is so playful. Then I have two canary-birds, and their names are Sweet and Top-knot. And I have a little kitten; her name is Betty; mamma named her.
I take music lessons, and go to school, and also attend a riding school twice a week. I like HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE very much. I think "Toby Tyler," "The Little Dolls' Dressmaker," and "Mr. Stubbs's Brother" are tiptop. Good-night.
BERTHA E. F.
The Postmistress has pleasure in inviting the attention of boys to the following request:
The boys at this place having organized a social club, desire to have their secretary open a correspondence with the secretaries of other and similar clubs of boys. Persons interested will please address for further information,
W. T. FRANKLIN, 82 East Jersey St., Elizabeth, N. J.
MOTT HAVEN, NEW YORK.
I am a little girl nine years old. I have five dollies; their names are Katie, Jessie, Jemima, Daisy, and Ella. I have had Jemima eight years. I have a bedstead, and a carriage in which, on fine days, I take them out riding. I also have a trunk, and lots of other things. I have never been to school, and only began to write one year ago last February, and I hope you will be able to read this letter.
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page