Imagini ale paginilor
PDF
ePub

of combat, retired, with many a howl, into the echoing forest.

The next day was occupied by securing the skins of the wolves, and the hunters concluded to spend the next night in the hut, taking care, however, to secure the entrance against the possibility of an attack like that of the preceding evening.

In the morning, the party rose early, and, instead of pursuing their journey, they plunged into the forest, hoping to meet with some sables or ermines. They had not gone far before two little, darkcolored animals, with very long bodies and short legs, were seen running and leaping upon the snow, Linsk uttered a low "hush," and approached them carefully, under cover of a large tree. He soon approached them, and raising his gun to his eye, seemed about to fire, when, suddenly lowering his piece, he beckoned to Alexis, who came instantly to his side. Obedient to a signal given by Linsk, Alexis drew up his gun and fired; the whole party ran to the spot, and, with great exultation, they picked up the animals, which proved to be two very fine sables. These were the first that Alexis had killed, and they brought to his mind so forcibly the injunctions of Kathinka, and her intense desire that he should be successful in his enterprise, that he burst into a flood of tears. The two sons of Linsk looked at him with amazement, but the old man guessed the cause of his emotion, and by some sportive remark, diverted the thoughts of the party into other channels. The kindness of Linsk in this, and in giving Alexis the first chance to fire, filled the heart of the young hunter with gratitude, which he did not soon forget.

They now pursued their sport, and before the evening came, they had caught seven sables and three ermines. They, therefore, returned to their hut, and now began to think of spending several weeks

[ocr errors]

at this place, for the purpose of pursuing the object of their expedition.

Letter from a Subscriber.

Many thanks to the writer of the following:

New York, March 15th, 1842..: DEAR MR. MERRY-The following lines are from one who has been both instructed and youthful subscriber, she begs you will accept amused by your writings, and although a very them as a small offering from the heart of MARGARET.

The name of Merry long will be
Remembered well, and loved by me.
Not all the works of ancient lore
Transmit to youth so sweet a store
Of learning true, in nature's dress,
The garb so simple, yet the best;
Religion's power, so deep, so pure,
Through endless ages to endure!
Youth bounds at Merry's joyous name,
And e'en old age its love may claim.

66

ENVY.-The envy which grudges the success for which it would want the courage to contend, was well rebuked by the French Marshal LEFEVRE, who had been in a great many battles, and who had acquired great wealth and fame. One of his friends expressing the most unbounded admiration of his magnificent residence, exclaimed, "How fortunate you are!" I see you envy me," said the marshal; "but come, you shall have all that I possess, at a much cheaper rate than I myself paid for it. Step down with me into the yard; you shall let me fire twenty musket shots at you, at the distance of thirty paces, and if I fail to bring you down, all that I have is yours. What! you refuse?" said the marshal, seeing that his friend demurred

"know that before I reached my present eminence, I was obliged to stand more than a thousand musket shots, and those who pulled the triggers were nothing like thirty paces from me."

[merged small][merged small][merged small][graphic][ocr errors][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][graphic][ocr errors][subsumed][merged small][merged small][merged small]

The Return of Spring.

Now spring returns, and all the earth Is clad in cheerful green;

The heart of man is filled with mirth,
And happiness is seen.

The violet rears its modest head,
To welcome in the spring,

And from its low and humble bed
Doth sweetest odors bring.

The birds are warbling in the grove,
And flutter on the wing,

And to their mates in notes of love
Responsive echoes sing.

Far as the eye can view, the hills
Are clad in verdure bright;
The rivers and the trickling rills
Are pleasant to the sight.

Nature another aspect wears,
Stern winter's reign is o'er;
While everything the power declares
Of Him whom we adore.

[blocks in formation]

My 7, 2, 3, 4, 11, is a very large fish.

My 2, 3, 1, 11, is a useful vehicle. My whole is the name of a celebrated author, which I shall give you in my next.

A BLACK-EYED Subscriber.

PUZZLE, No. 3.

I am a sentence composed of 26 letters. My 1, 11, 15, 4, 24, 8, is a flourishing city. My 3, 15, 18, 17, 17, 16, is a road. My 7, 8, 6, is a girl's name.

My 12, 11, 10, is a disturbance.
My 4, 5, 10, 6, is a municipal corporation.
My 19, 21, 26, 14, is what you take on my
whole.

My 15, 24, 26, is the grass over a grave.
My 22, 24, 25, 26, is a burden.

My 13, 2, 6, 9, 5, 23, is a bird of prey.
My whole is a link of a great iron chain.

PUZZLE, No. 4.

I am a name of 17 letters.

My 9, 10, 3, 12, 17, 2, is a useful mechanic. My 15, 10, 13, 8, 7, is what we all wish to be. My 1, 11, 4, is that for want of which great misfortunes have happened.

My 2, 14, 5, 8, is an article of commerce.
My 13, 11, 15, 16, 6, is French for a city.
My 1, 6, 17, 2, is a person of rank.
My whole is a distinguished foreigner.

PUZZLE, No. 5.

I am a word of 9 letters.

My 9, 8, 8, 1, is the name of a number. My 4, 8, 1, 3, 7, is the name of a kind of house.

My 9, 5, 3, 3, is the name of a large cask.
My 6, 5, 3, 9, is what butchers often do.
My 1, 2, 3, 4, is a nickname.

My 8, 2, 3, 4, is what every animal in creation does.

My 6, 2, 3, 7, is the name of a small pet animal, to be found in almost every house.

My 4, 5, 3, 9, is an exclamation signifying "Let alone!"

My 1, 8, 3, 4, is an implement used by fish

ermen.

My 1, 5, 3, 9, is found in the woods.
My whole is the name of a great sandheap.

COME out here, and I'll lick the whole of you; as the boy said ven he seed a bottle full of sugar sticks in a shop window !

To my Correspondents.

WHEW! what a lot of letters I have got from my little black-eyed and blueeyed friends, this month! Some contain answers to old puzzles, and some contain new puzzles, and some put questions which puzzle me not a little. However, I am very glad to hear from body who takes an interest in poor Bob Merry; and I think all the better of young people, who can be kind to an old fellow with a wooden leg, and content to hear stories from one who never went

any

to college. I feel cheered by these pleasant, lively letters; and sometimes, when my old pate reels with hard work, and my eyes grow dim as I think over the sad fortunes that pursue me, I go to the package of my correspondents, and there find consolation. "No matter-no matter," say I to myself, "if all the world deserts or abuses me, at least these little friends will be true to me!"

So, thereupon, I wipe my eyes, clean my spectacles, whistle some merry tune, and sit down to write something cheerful and pleasant for my Magazine.

[ocr errors]

Well, now I say again, that I am much obliged to my kind friends, and I am glad to observe that they always pay their postage. Only one instance to the contrary has occurred: my little friend, Cornelius W— of Newark, New Jersey, forgot to pay the postage on the specimen of his handwriting that he sent me. I mention this for his benefit, because the habit of forgetting to do things as they ought to be done is a very bad habit. Suppose, for instance, that a person should get into the habit of eating carelessly; why, at last, instead of eating the meat, and rejecting the bones, he might swallow the bones, and reject the meat! Think of that, Master Cornelius.

I have received the answers of A. L., W. H. S., C. F. W. P., F. A. S., and

others, to the puzzles in the March number, all of which are right. The first is Bunker Hill Monument; the second is A Black-eyed Friend.

The following request I will reflect upon.

MR. MERRY-I wish very much to have the story of Philip Brusque continued. I wish to know what Mr. Bonfils did. Was he a good king, and did they have any more riots? If you will "lift the curtain," you will satisfy my wishes, and oblige A SUBSCRIBER,

Boston, March 5, 1842.

The "Meditations of an Old Man" readers; they do not like to weep very are a little too melancholy for our young often, and I expect that Bob Merry's story will, by and bye, call for all the tears they can spare.

I insert the following with pleasure. It seems that young Bare-Head is a "Wolverene ;" and if he will tell his real life and adventures, no doubt they will be worth hearing. What a good title it will be!" The Adventures of Ben Bare-Head, the Wolverene!"

MASTER BARE-HEAD'S PUZZLE.

I am a name of 13 letters.
My 5, 3, 13, is a stupid fellow.
My 4, 8, 1, 5, 6, 7, is a kind of shrub.
My 13, 5, 1, is a nickname.

My 1, 5, 11, 6, 7, often takes place between two individuals.

My 6, 7, 2, 4, 10, is a pleasing diversion. My 3, 12, 10, 5, 1, is a useful agent. My 5, 13, 7, 10, 4, is what we every day be hold.

My 9, 11, 5, 12, 10, is what I am.

My 6, 7, 10, 3, 13, has ruined many
My 4, 7, 5, 1, 10, many do not possess.
My 7, 2, 11, is what I have not got.
My 6, 2, 9, 7, is what a Hoosier seldom
sees.

My 7, 8, 12, is common in Michigan.
My 1, 5, 9, 12, is often seen in Boston
My 6, 7, 10, 4, 12, is a convenient article.
My 11, 10, 10, 12, 7, 5, 6, 7, 10, makes cross

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

And from every shrub and flower

What a fragrant perfume breathes,
While fruit of almost every clime

Hangs in rich clusters from the trees;
And birds, of plumage rich and rare,
Pour forth their notes of love,
In strains so wild, so thrilling, sweet,
From every sheltering grove!

And who would deem that sin

Could mar a scene so beauteous, bright, So filled with things that please the eye, And give the mind delight?

And yet such guilt stalked proudly here,
Such sin without alloy,

As to tempt the Almighty's wrath to curse,
His anger to destroy.

But soon, ah me! how very soon,

And what a change is there!

A bellowing earthquake shakes the ground,
Loud thunders fill the air;
Bright fire from heaven flashes
In sheets of liquid flame,

And a heap of wretched ruins
Those proud cities then became.

What keen remorse and anguish

Must have through those bosoms thrilled, What shrieks and shouts of agony

Must the echoing air have filled!

[blocks in formation]

P. J. U. Come and see me, and I will Well done, my gray-eyed friendgive thee a hearty shake of the hand! Esteemed Friend:+

I have received thy Magazine, and write on purpose to inform thee of my wish to see the last of our friend Brusque on the island of Fredonia; and hope it will be of no inconvenience to unravel the whole. Although I am a grayeyed little friend, I have taken the liberty to write thee a few lines, and hope thee will receive it from an unknown boy, aged 11 years, who longs to see thee and hear those interesting stories which I hope will soon appear in our pretty little books; but as that cannot be at present, I still hope to get them, with yellow covers, with my father's name on the back. From a gray-eyed friend, P. J. U.

The suggestion of a "Black-Eyed Friend," as to juvenile plays or dialogues, is received, and shall be duly considered. I notice his remark that I have not given the names of all the kinds of type;_and he is correct in his observation. J. H. W., Oak street, Boston, writes a fair, handsome hand, and this is a pleasant thing to a blear-eyed old fellow, like me. His solution is right. G. W. F., of Pittsburgh, also writes very neatly, and his letter is expressed with great propriety. He, too, is correct in his answers to the riddles. The enigma of J. W. P. is ingenious-but the name itself is a puzzle. Here it is: "General Diebitsch Sabalkansky." Why, this name reminds me of a stick that was so crooked it could never lie still!

IRISH WIT. -"Please your honor, is a thing lost when you know where it is?" said an Irish footman to his master. "To be sure not, you booby."

"Och! thank your honor for that; the de'il of harm then, for the new copper takettle's at the bottom of the well!"

« ÎnapoiContinuă »