men of the town fought hard, but the Indians were getting the best of
the battle. A little cannon had been sent from Boston. It reached
Hadley while the battle was going on. As all the men were busy
fighting, the women loaded the cannon themselves. First they put in
powder, and then small shot and nails. When the cannon was loaded, the
women took it to the men, who pointed it into the thickest of the
crowd of Indians, and fired it. A hail-storm of nails was a new thing
to the Indians. Those who were not killed ran away very much
frightened.

There was a young girl in Maine who was in a house when the Indians
attacked it. She held the door shut until thirteen women and children
could get out of the house by the back door, and pass into a
blockhouse, which is a kind of fort. The Indians beat down the door at
last, and then knocked down the brave girl behind it, but they did not
kill her.

Sometimes the Indians attacked a blockhouse when there were none but
women in it. In such cases the women would put on hats, and fix their
hair so as to look like men. Then they would use their guns well. The
savages, thinking there were men in the place, would go away.

There was one girl who was a captive among the Indians for three weeks.
One day she saw a horse running loose in the woods. She stripped some
tough bark from a tree, and made a bridle of it. Then she caught the
horse, and put her bark bridle on him. It was just growing dark when
she climbed on his bare back, for she had no saddle. She turned the
horse's head toward the settlements, and rode hard all night. The next
morning she was safe among her friends.




THE COMING OF TEA AND COFFEE.


When the first settlers came to this country, tea and coffee were
unknown to them. The favorite drink of that time was a kind of weak
beer, which was usually made at home. The first settlers in America
could not buy drinks such as they had had in England, and in a new
country they often could not make them. So they found out ways of
making other drinks in place of them. What we call root beer and birch
beer, and a drink flavored with the chips of the hickory tree, were
made in New England. Farther south the people made a kind of drink by
mixing water and molasses together, and putting in Indian corn.

Such drinks were taken at meals as we take tea and coffee. People also
drank a great deal of cider. As the cows hardly ever gave any milk in
winter, children were given cider and water to drink. But about fifty
years after the time that the first settlers came to this country,
people in England began to get tea and coffee. Tea and coffee were
soon after brought into this country. At first they were thought to be
medicines good for many diseases. Little books were written to tell
how many diseases these new drinks would cure. Root beer and birch
beer, and tea and coffee, were good things in one way. After they came
into use, people did not care so much for stronger drinks.

When tea first came, it was very fashionable. It was called the new
China drink. Along with the tea, people brought from China little
teacups to drink it from. Most of the cups before this time had been
made of pewter. The new cups and saucers were called chinaware. They
also brought from China pretty little tables on which they set the
teacups when they drank the tea.

When people first got tea in country places, they did not know how to
use it. There was a minister in Connecticut who bought two pounds of
tea in New York. He took it home with him, and put it away to use when
anybody in his house should be ill. He wanted the tea for medicine.
His daughters had heard about the fine ladies in town who took tea.
They were curious to taste it, and were not willing to wait until they
should be ill. So one afternoon, without letting their father know it,
they asked two young men who were friends of theirs to the house. Then
they got out the package of tea, intending to treat themselves and the
young men to a new pleasure. They knew nothing about making tea. When
they had boiled it a long time, they poured off the tea and threw it
away. They put the tea leaves on a dish, and tried to eat them as one
would eat spinach. This is the way they punished themselves for
disobeying their father.

Before the Revolution, when gentlemen called at fine houses in the
afternoon, the ladies always gave them tea to drink. As soon as a
gentleman's little cup was empty, one of the ladies would fill it up
again, and it was not polite to refuse to drink all the tea that was
offered. A French prince who was in Philadelphia during the Revolution
drank twelve little cups of tea one afternoon. The ladies kept giving
him more, and the poor prince did not know how to stop them until
another French gentleman told him privately that if he would lay his
teaspoon across the top of the cup no more tea would be poured in. He
put the teaspoon across the teacup as a sign that he did not wish to
drink any more.

[Illustration: A Colonial Tea Party.]

Long after tea and coffee were in use in this country they were not
known in the backwoods. The people on the frontier drank tea made from
the root of the sassafras tree or from the leaves of some wild vines.
The whole work of preparing food was done at home. When they wanted to
grind meal, they did it by pounding corn in a hole cut in the stump of
a tree. They used a large stone pounder which was tied by a rope to a
limb of a tree above. After each blow the limb would spring back and
raise the pounder. Their corn meal was sifted through a sieve made of
deerskin with little holes punched through it. They had to make their
shoes and hats and caps themselves, and to weave their cloth at home.

A boy who lived on the west side of the Alleghany Mountains in those
days afterward wrote a book telling all about this rough life. His
name was Joseph Doddridge. He spent his boyhood in a log cabin, in
constant danger from Indians. The settlers had built a fort in the
middle of the settlement. Sometimes in the night Joseph would hear a
man tapping gently on the back window of his father's cabin. As soon
as anybody waked up, the man would whisper, "Indians!" Joseph's father
would then take down his gun. The children would be dressed in the
dark as quickly as possible. Such things as would be needed in the
fort were then picked up. Not a word was spoken, nor was any candle
lighted. Even the little children learned to be perfectly silent, and
the dogs were taught not to bark. When all was ready, the family would
hurry away along the foot path to the fort. All the other families in
the settlement would be called in the same way.

Every fall these settlers sent pack horses over the mountains. The
horses were loaded with the skins of animals. When they came back,
they carried salt, which was the one thing that could not be made in
the settlement. But the men never thought it worth while to bring home
with them tea and coffee or other unnecessary things.

When Joseph was about seven years of age, he was sent over the
mountains to school. The little boy was very much puzzled when he
first saw a house that was plastered inside. He had never in his life
seen anything but a cabin built of logs. He could not understand how a
plastered house was built. It seemed to him like something that had
grown that way.

When supper time came in this plastered house, he saw a teacup and
saucer for the first time in his life. The people in his neighborhood
used wooden bowls to drink out of. But here he saw what seemed to him
to be a little cup standing in a bigger one. He had never heard of
coffee. He only knew that the brownish-looking stuff in his cup was
not milk, or hominy, or soup. What to do with the little cups, or how
to make use of the spoon that was in them, he could not tell, so he
watched the big folks handle their cups and spoons. He drank the
coffee just as they did, but he disliked it very much. It made the
tears come into his eyes to drink it. When he got his cup nearly
empty, it was filled again. He did not dare to say that he had had
enough, and he did not know what to do. At last he saw one man turn
his empty cup bottom upward in the saucer, and lay his little spoon
across the bottom of the cup. That was the custom in those days. He
saw that this man's cup was not filled any more. So Joseph drank his
coffee as quickly as possible, turned his cup over in the saucer, and
laid the spoon across the bottom. He was delighted that he did not
have to drink any more coffee.




KIDNAPPED BOYS.


In the days when our country belonged to England, white people were
brought here to be sold. Some of these were poor people who could not
get a good living in England. They came over to this country without
any money. The captain of the ship in which they came sold them in
this country to pay their passage.

Men and women who were sold had to serve four years; and boys and
girls, a longer time. The person sold was just like a slave until his
time was out. The man who had bought him might beat him, or sell him
to another master. Many of these white slaves did not get enough to
eat.

Here are some stories of boys who were brought to this country and
sold before the Revolution. They are all true stories.




THE STORY OF PETER WILLIAMSON.--TWICE A SLAVE.


One day a boy named Peter Williamson was walking along the streets of
Aberdeen in Scotland. The little fellow was eight years old. Two men
met him, and asked him to go on board a ship with them. When he got on
board, he was put down in the lower part of the ship with other boys.
The ship sailed to America with twenty boys. Like Peter, the other
lads had been stolen from their parents. They were taken to
Philadelphia and sold, to work for seven years.

Little Peter was lucky enough to fall into the hands of a kind master.
Among those who came to buy boys off this ship was a man who had
himself been stolen from Scotland when he was young. He felt sorry for
little Peter when he saw him put up for sale. The price the cruel
captain asked for him was about fifty dollars. The Scotchman paid this
money, and took Peter for his boy. He sent him to school in the
winter, and treated him kindly. Peter, for his part, was a good boy,
and did his work faithfully. He staid with his master after his time
was out.

When Peter was about seventeen years old, this good master died. He
left to Peter about six hundred dollars in money for being a good boy.
He also gave him his best horse and saddle and all his own clothes.
Some years after this, Peter married, and went to live in the northern
part of Pennsylvania. He was by this time a man of property.

One night, when his wife was away from home, the Indians came about
his house. He got a gun and ran upstairs. He pointed the gun at the
Indians, but they told him that if he would not shoot they would not
kill him. So he came down, and gave himself up as a prisoner.

The Indians treated him very cruelly. He was with them more than a
year. His sufferings were so great that he wished sometimes that he
was dead. He knew that if he ran away the Indians would probably catch
him, and kill him in some cruel way. But one night, when the Indians
were all asleep, he resolved to take the risk. You may believe that
when he had started he ran with all his might.

When daylight came, he hid himself in a hollow tree. After a while he
heard the Indians running all about the tree. He could hear them tell
one another how they would kill him when they found him. But they did
not think to look into the tree.

The next night he ran on again. He came very near running into a camp
of Indians. But at last he came in sight of the house of a friend. He
was tired out, and starving. He had hardly any clothes left on him. He
knocked at the door. The woman who saw him thought that he was an
Indian. She screamed, and the man of the house got his gun to kill
him. But he quickly told his friend that he was no Indian, but Peter
Williamson. Everybody had given him up for dead. But now all his
friends were happy to see him alive once more. He had twice been
carried into slavery,--once by cruel white men, and once by yet more
cruel red men.




SOLD LIKE JOSEPH.--STORIES OF TWO KIDNAPPED BOYS.


You have heard the beautiful story of Joseph in the Bible. You
remember that he was sold by his brothers. Then he was carried into
Egypt, where he became a great man.

In 1730 there was a little English lad at sea with his uncle, who was
the captain of a ship. Whether the boy's father and mother were dead
or not, history does not tell. But the boy was sailing on his uncle's
ship, as though he were the captain's son.

One day the captain was taken ill at sea. After a while he died. The
mate and the sailors thought that they would like to steal the ship
and all the captain's property. But it now all belonged to the little
boy. Like Joseph's brothers, the sailors laid a plan to get the boy
out of the way. You remember that Joseph's brothers saw some slave
traders going by. These traders were Arabs, like the Arabs that carry
off slaves to-day. Joseph's brothers stopped the Arabs, and sold
little Joseph to them. The Arabs took Joseph to Egypt and sold him.

Just so the mate and his men saw a ship coming toward them. This ship
had a great many people on board. They were Irish people, who were
being taken to America to be sold as servants.

The mate hailed the ship, and made a bargain with the captain and the
mate. He sold the poor little boy, who had no friends, to this
captain.

Then the mate and his men sailed away. What became of them we do not
know; but the ship, loaded with white servants, sailed to Boston. It
landed at the Long Wharf, a pier running far out into the water. The
servants were obliged to run up and down this wharf. The people who
came to buy watched them to see how strong they might be.

The little boy sold by the mate was there. He ran up and down with the
others, to show how nimble his legs were. He was bought by a Mr.
Willard.

[Illustration: Selling the Captain's Nephew.]

The boy served out his time, and became free. He became a well-known
officer in the Indian wars. His name was Johnson. He did not become so
great as Joseph in Egypt, but, like Joseph, he gained honor in the
country into which he had been sold as a slave.

Here is another story of the same kind. A little boy six years old got
lost in London. After he had wandered about a good while, a ship
captain met him, and told him that he would take him to his father.
The captain took him into a boat, put him on board his ship, carried
him to Maryland, and sold him. After the boy had served out his time
and grown to be a man, he became a rich farmer.

The wicked ship captain who carried off the boy was caught stealing
many years afterward. In that day, thieves were often sold into
America for seven years, as a punishment. This captain who had sold
others was now put on a ship and sent to be sold in Maryland. The man
who bought him was the very person whom he had carried off when he was
a boy.

You remember how much Joseph's brothers were afraid of him when they
found themselves in his power. This wicked old sea captain was
frightened when he saw that he was now a slave to the boy he had
stolen. He was so much alarmed that he killed himself.




A LITTLE LORD SOLD INTO BONDAGE.


There lived in Ireland a long time ago a certain Lord Altham. The time
was about sixty years before our American Revolution. This Lord Altham
was a weak and foolish man. He quarreled with his wife, and sent her
away. He wasted his money in wicked living, and got into debt. He had
a little son named James Annesley. "Jemmy," as he was called, was sent
to a boarding school; but the father grew more wicked, and more
careless of his son. He sent the boy away, and pretended that he was
dead. He did this because he wanted to sell some property that he
could not sell if Jemmy were alive.

Jemmy found himself badly treated where he lived. When he complained,
he was told that his father did not pay his board: so he ran away. He
lived in the streets with rough boys. He ran on errands for pay, like
the other little street boys. But still the boys knew that Jemmy was
the son of a lord. Strangers were surprised to hear a little ragged
boy called "my lord" by his playmates.

When he was about thirteen years old, his father died. Then Jemmy
Annesley became Lord Altham in place of his father; but his uncle
Richard, who was a cruel man, took Jemmy's property, and called
himself Lord Altham.

The wicked uncle was afraid that people would find out that Jemmy was
alive, and he sent a man to see where the boy was. When the boy was
found, his uncle accused him of stealing a silver spoon. He hired
three policemen to arrest the boy and put him on a ship. Poor Jemmy
wept bitterly. He told the people he was afraid his uncle would kill
him. The ship took him to Philadelphia, where he was sold to a farmer
to serve until he should be of age.

[Illustration: Kidnapping a Lord.]

One day, when he was about seventeen years old, he came into his
master's house with a gun in one hand and a squirrel in the other.
There were two strangers sitting by the fire. They had found the door
open, and had walked in.

One of the men said, "Are you a servant in this house?"

"I am," said James.

"What country did you come from?"

"Ireland."

"We are from Ireland ourselves," said one of the strange men. "What
part of Ireland are you from?"

"From the county of Wexford."

"We are from that county. What is your name?"

"James Annesley."

"I never heard that name there," said the traveler.

"Did you know Lord Altham?" asked the boy.

"Yes."

"Well, I am his son."

"What!" cried the stranger, "you the son of Lord Altham! Impossible!"

But the young man insisted that he was Lord Altham's son.

"Tell me how Lord Altham's house stands," said the stranger.

The young man told him enough to show that he knew all about the
place. Then the stranger said, that, if James ever came to Ireland to
claim his estate, he would do what he could to help him.

James Annesley was badly treated by his master. At length he ran away,
but he was retaken, and put into a jail in Lancaster. He was kept in
prison a good while. He had a fine voice, and he amused himself by
singing. The people used to stand outside of the jail to hear him
sing.

For running away he was obliged to serve a still longer time. He spent
thirteen years in slavery.

When he got free at last, he told Mr. Ellis of Philadelphia about his
case. This kind-hearted man gave him a passage on a ship going to the
West Indies. An English fleet was then in the West Indies. It was
commanded by the famous Admiral Vernon. When the brave admiral heard
James Annesley's story, he took him to England. In England James found
friends ready to help him.

There was a long lawsuit, but James's old friends and schoolmates came
to court as witnesses for him. One of the men who had talked with him
while he was a servant in Pennsylvania told the Court about it. Two of
the policemen that had helped to put little Jemmy on shipboard
confessed the dreadful act they had done.

Then the jury gave a verdict that James Annesley was the true Lord
Altham. There was great joy among the people, and everybody detested
the cruel uncle. The people made songs about him, and sang them under
his windows. James Annesley was now called Lord Altham. But before the
young lord came into possession of his title and his property, he was
taken ill and died.

I am glad that we live in better times. Children are not kidnapped and
sold now.




THE LAST BATTLE OF BLACKBEARD.


Our country now reaches from one ocean to the other. But in the days
before the Revolution there were only English colonies stretching up
and down the Atlantic coast. Merchandise was carried from one colony
to another, and from one country to another, in slow-going sailing
vessels, for there were neither railroads nor steamships.

In those old times there were robbers on the sea. We call sea robbers
pirates. These men carried cannon on their ships, and they robbed any
vessels not stronger than they were. In our days of large steamships a
pirate would not stand any chance of getting away. He would soon be
caught. Some of the pirates of old times sailed up and down the
American coast. They captured ships sailing from America to Europe and
from Europe to America. The worst of all these pirates was Blackbeard.

His real name was Thatch. He was called Blackbeard because he wore a
long black beard that covered his face. This made him look frightful
in that day, when other men shaved their faces smooth. He divided his
beard into locks, and twisted each lock, tying it at the end with
ribbons. To make himself look still worse, he fastened some of these
twists over his ears.

[Illustration: Blackbeard.]

When he was fighting against another ship, he wore a strap over his
shoulders to which were fastened large pistols. In those days, cannon
were touched off by means of a slow match, a kind of cord that burns
slowly like punk. When Blackbeard went into battle, he twisted some of
these slow matches or cords round his head, and stuck some of them
under his hat. The ends of these matches were burning, and they looked
like fiery, hissing snakes. With his beard turned back over his ears,
and fire all about his head, he seemed to be a tall fiend.

Blackbeard was more like a fiend than a man. He was cruel and wicked
in every way. Some bad men are sometimes kind-hearted, but Blackbeard
was always cruel. He would shoot even his own men in order to make his
crew afraid of him.

He did much of his bad work on the coast of North Carolina. Here he
found bays and sounds where the water was shallow. Large ships could
not easily follow him into these places. The Governor of North
Carolina was a bad man. He took part of Blackbeard's plunder, and let
Blackbeard go safely about the country. The people were afraid of the
pirate. They sent to the Governor of Virginia, and asked him to fit
out a ship to capture Blackbeard.

Two sloops that could sail in shallow water were sent. Lieutenant
Maynard was the commander. The ships left Virginia secretly. No one
knew where they were going.

When Maynard came in sight of Blackbeard's sloop, he hung out his
flag. Blackbeard took a glass of rum and drank it, calling to Maynard,
"I'll give you no quarter, nor take any."

Maynard replied, "I do not expect any quarter from you, nor will I
give any."

This meant that neither of them would take any prisoners, but that
every man must fight for his life.

Maynard tried to run alongside Blackbeard's ship. He wanted to take
his men on board the pirate ship, and fight it out on her deck. But
Blackbeard had put a large negro near to the gunpowder on his ship. He
said to the negro, "If the men from the other ship get on board of
ours, you must set fire to the gunpowder, and blow us all up."

Maynard was running toward the pirate ship to get on board; but
Blackbeard fired all the cannon on that side of his ship, and killed
some of Maynard's men. This was really lucky for Maynard; for, if he
had got on board, the negro would have set fire to the gunpowder, and
the pirates and Maynard's men would all have been blown to pieces at
once.

Maynard now sent his men down into the hold of the ship. They were out
of sight of the pirates, but they had their pistols and swords ready.
The sloops were soon close together, and Blackbeard's men threw boxes
full of powder and shot, and pieces of lead and iron, on the deck of
Maynard's sloop. These were so fixed as to go off like bombshells.
But, as nearly all of Maynard's men were down below the deck, these
boxes did little harm.

Blackbeard, thinking that most of Maynard's men had been killed,
jumped on board the sloop with fourteen men. Maynard now called his
men from below, and there was a desperate fight. Blackbeard was shot
five times, and was wounded with swords; but the old monster fought
until he fell down dead while cocking his pistol. The rest of the
pirates on the deck of Maynard's ship were taken prisoners.

Maynard's other sloop was fighting with the men left on board
Blackbeard's vessels. These surrendered, but they had trouble to keep
the big negro from setting fire to the gunpowder and blowing them all
up.

Maynard took away from the Governor of North Carolina many hogsheads
of sugar that Blackbeard had stolen. Then he hung the great ugly head
of the pirate at the bow of his ship, and sailed back to Virginia in
triumph.




AN OLD PHILADELPHIA SCHOOL.


There was a schoolmaster in Philadelphia before the Revolution who did
not like to beat his pupils as other masters of that time did. When a
boy behaved badly, he would take his switch and stick it into the back
of the boy's coat collar so that the switch should rise above his head
in the air. He would then stand the boy up on a bench in sight of the
school, in order to punish him by making him ashamed.

This schoolmaster's name was Dove. If any boy was not at school in
time, the master would send a committee of five or six of the scholars
to fetch him. One of this committee carried a lighted lantern, while
another had a bell in his hand. The tardy scholar had to march down
the street in broad daylight with a lantern to show him the way, and a
boy ringing the school bell to let him know that it was time for him
to be there.

[Illustration: The Tardy Schoolmaster.]

One morning Mr. Dove slept too late, or forgot himself. The boys made
up a committee to bring the teacher to school. They took the lantern
and the bell with them. Mr. Dove said they were quite right. He took
his place in the procession, and the people saw Schoolmaster Dove
taken to school late with a lantern and a bell.

The larger schoolboys of that time were very fond of foot races. They
would take off their coats and tie handkerchiefs about their heads
before starting. The short breeches they wore were fastened at the
knee by bands. When they were going to run a race, they would loosen
these bands, and pull off their shoes and stockings. Some of the boys
ran barefoot in this way, but others wore Indian moccasins. The race
course was round a block; that is, about three quarters of a mile.
Crowds would gather to see the boys run, and the people rushed from
one side of the block to the other to see which was leading in the
race.




A DUTCH FAMILY IN THE REVOLUTION.


What is now the State of New York was first settled by people from
Holland who spoke the Dutch language. New York afterward became an
English colony, but the Dutch settlers and their descendants still
spoke the language of Holland, at the time of the American Revolution.

In Flatbush, which is now a part of Brooklyn, was a family that spoke
the Dutch language, while they were true Americans in feeling. When
the British landed on Long Island, they got ready to leave the town.
The horses were hitched to the wagon, and such things as were thought
most valuable were put in. The first thing they put into the wagon was
the great Dutch Bible with heavy brass clasps. A tall clock was also
carefully lifted into the wagon. Then clothing and other things
followed.

The father of the family told the two faithful negro men, Caesar and
his son Mink, how to take care of things. Femmetia, the most active of
the daughters, had the whip in her hand, and, as the sound of firing
was coming nearer and nearer, she tapped the horses on their ears, and
the family dashed away to the house of a cousin who lived beyond the
region where the fight was to be.

That evening Femmetia helped her father, who was an invalid, to climb
to the top of a little hill from which they could see a fire raging in
the village of Flatbush. The direction of the fire showed the father
and daughter that it was their own house which was burning.

When the fight was over, General Washington's troops had been driven
from Long Island. The good Dutch family went back and found their
house burned. They moved into another house, whose owner was still
away, and then began to build a new house. The mother bought some
boards with what money she had saved, but she could not get any nails.
In that day nails were not made by machinery, as they are now. Each
nail had to be hammered out separately by a blacksmith. Nails made in
this way cost a great deal of money.

There was but one way to do. Femmetia and her sister had to find nails
by raking over the ashes of the old house. Some of these nails were
crooked, and they had to be hammered to make them straight enough to
use.

Some American officers had been made prisoners at the battle of Long
Island. They were allowed to go about the village after having given
their word not to go farther. They liked to help the girls find nails
in the ashes, and hammer them straight on the stones. Other young
girls came to help them, so that there was a party of young people
talking, joking, laughing, and digging in the ashes, every day. It was
fun for all of them. There were not boards enough to finish the house.
The room in which the two sisters slept was upstairs. It had but half
a floor. Where the rest of the floor should have been were only bare
beams.

[Illustration: A Nail Party.]

One night the negro woman, whose name was Dian, came into the room
below, and called Femmetia. She told her that the British soldiers had
come into the barn, and that they would soon take away what were left
of the chickens.

"You jes' come down." said Dian to Femmetia. So the old slave and the
young girl went out together. They carried a gun and a broomstick. The
moon was shining. They took great pains not to let the soldiers see
them. First they dodged behind a great walnut tree. Then, when they
were sure the soldiers did not see them, they ran behind the corncrib.
Their next march brought them behind the wagon house, and then they
slipped into the dark shadow of the barn.

Dian thrust the rifle through a hole in the side door of the barn. At
the same moment the bold Femmetia threw a stone which made the
soldiers look round. There was moonlight enough for them to see the
muzzle of the gun coming through the door as though it were ready to
fire at them. They ran away in great haste, and left the chickens
behind.

The silver plate and other valuable things were buried under the
hearth in the house. A lady in a neighboring house hid her gold coins
in the middle of a great round ball of a pincushion. Such ball
pincushions were worn by some of the Dutch women at that time. They
hung them at their sides, tied by a bit of ribbon. A party of English
soldiers came into this lady's house. They were much amused to see
this ball at the lady's side. One of them rudely cut the ribbon with
his sword, and then the soldiers played ball with the cushion. It was
sent here and there about the room. Twice it fell into the ashes.

The woman who owned it expected that it would be torn, and all her
gold would spill out, but she went on with her work. If she had shown
any anxiety about the ball, the soldiers might have thought to look
for her money in the cushion. At last they gave it back to her,
much-soiled, but holding its treasures safe.




A SCHOOL OF LONG AGO.


A hundred and fifty years ago there was a famous teacher among the
German settlers in Pennsylvania who was known as "The Good
Schoolmaster." His name was Christopher Dock. He had two little