bass, and they soon became so tame that they would follow my finger all around, or would jump out of the water for a bit of meat held between the fingers. Almost any wild creatures will yield to persistent kind treatment, and become tame. Generally, too, they learn to have a sort of trustful affection for their keepers, who, however, to earn the confidence of such friends, should be almost as wise, punctual, and unfailing as good Dame Nature herself. One of the same bass, which I gave to a friend of mine, lived in an ordinary glass globe for three years. It was a very intelligent fish, but fearfully spiteful and jealous. My friend's mother thought it was lonesome, and so, one day, she brought home a beautiful gold-fish-a little larger than the bass-to keep it company. She put the gold-fish in the globe, and watched the little bass, expecting to see it wonderfully pleased; but the little wretch worked himself into a terrible passion-erected every spine upon his back, glared a moment at the intruder, and then made a dart forward, seized the gold-fish by the abdomen, and shook it as a terrier dog shakes a rat, until the transparent water was glittering all over with a shower of golden scales. As soon as possible, the carp was rescued; but it was too late. He only gasped, and died. The vicious little bass swam around and around his globe, biting in his rage at all the floating scales. Ever after, he was allowed to live a hermit's life, and he behaved himself well. At last the family went away for a couple of weeks, and, when they returned, the poor little bass lay dead at the bottom of his globe. One more incident, and I must close: A certain young enthusiast in aquarium matters, waking suddenly one night, beheld the apparition shown on page 697. At one side of the room, in a wavering circle of light, a gaping monster was about to make one mouthful of a wriggling creature as large as a cat. vision soon appeared. The curtain of the window had not been drawn down all the way, and a streetlamp, shining in, made a sort of combined magiclantern lens and slide of a glass globe, in which some aquarium pets were quarreling. But the "wriggler" escaped somehow, and no harm was done. The cause of this strange LE MARCHAND DE COCO. PAR F. M. E. WE shall be glad to receive translations of this from the girls and boys. The translators should give their full names, addresses, and ages, at the head of their papers, and should write on but one side of the sheet. That translation which seems to us to be the best will be printed in the October number. Translations received at 743 Broadway, New York, after August 1st will be too late to take part in the competition. LE MARCHAND DE COCO. MES chers petits amis, savez-vous ce que c'est que ce jeune homme si drôlement paré? Il est marchand de coco, cette boisson délicieuse faite du bois de réglisse broyé dans de l'eau glacé. À Paris on les voit partout, ces marchands, avec le beau bouquet argenté de leur fontaines, scintillant comme une oriflamme au-dessus de la tête. Ils se promènent aux Champs Elysées, au Jardin des Tuileries, dans les rues, partout où se peuvent trouver des enfants, ou même des personnes plus agées, car la soif vient à tout le monde; et quand il fait bien chaud, ils font de fameuses recettes. On les entend crier de leur voix pénétrante: “À la fraiche, qui veut boire! Voilà le bon coco! Régalezvous, Mesdames-régalez-vous!" Et après ces assourdissants appels aux chalands, ils tintent la clochette argentée qu'ils portent dans la main gauche. Cette sonnerie fait la fortune du débitant de coco; elle fait tant de bruit qu'il faut bien lui faire attention, ce qui est toujours bonne chose dans le commerce. Et puis la fontaine est si belle, qui pourrait y résister? L'effet du velours cramoisi qui entoure les cylindres, est rehaussé par les bords cuivrés et par le bouquet luisant dans le soleil. Ce qui fait un ensemble visible de loin par les altérés. Et puis, cela ne coûte qu'un sou le verre! Sur la poitrine, une des bretelles qui attachent la fontaine au dos du marchand, est percée à jour pour recevoir les gobelets dans lesquels il sert sa marchandise. Tout brille dans l'équipage, les gobelets sont argentés aussi bien que la clochette et le bouquet et les deux robinets qui passent dessous le bras gauche, l'un desquels donne du coco, et l'autre de l'eau pour rincer les gobelets. Il se sert d'un coin de son tablier de toile, éblouissant de blancheur et de propreté, pour essuyer ses verres. Et pourtant ce tablier n'est jamais sale, on y voit toujours les plis faits par le fer de la blanchisseuse. Notre marchand de coco dans la gravure est chaussé de gros sabots de paysan, mais cette partie du costume n'est pas de rigeur comme tout le reste. Autrefois un beau casque empanaché coiffait le porte-fontaine, mais aujourd'hui la simple casquette d'ouvrier le remplace. Qui ne voudrait pas être marchand de coco? Quel beau métier! Se promener toujours au soleil, et crier aux oreilles des petits enfants altérés: “À la fraiche, qui veut boire!" CHAPTER VII. THE RAMBLERS' CLUB. THE Ramblers' Club was not a difficult body to form. All that was needed, as far as that Saturday was concerned, was for Otis Burr, Jeff Carroll, and Charley Ferris to come around to Will Torrance's as soon as possible after breakfast. Jack Roberts would also have been there but for a message Belle brought him from Milly Merriweather and Mr. Ayring. They wanted to consult with him about such May-festival appointments as were to be divided among the Park boys. [SEE PAGE 709.] Otis Burr had vetoed it with: "No, Will, four of us 'll be enough if we 're going to have a good time, and it wont do to have more if we 're not." There was sense in that, especially as they had only one dog and one gun among them, both belonging to Will. Will Torrance's "Tiger" was a cross between a setter and a Newfoundland, and combined the brains of one with the size and shaggy coat of the other. He was bounding ahead of the boys now, in search of fun, and not only chickens but much larger animals, ill-disposed men included, were quite likely to treat him with civility. The "ramble" of that day was to be made As for inviting anybody else on that first trip, along the western shore of Oneoga Lake. VOL. VIII.-45. This was a pretty piece of fresh water, one end of which came down to the northern side of Saltillo. It was about six miles long and not more than two miles wide at the widest place, and the eastern shore was all villages and farms. The western side was wilder, being about equally divided between swamps and woodland, and the lake itself had been long ago "fished out." "Four boys and only one gun," remarked a farmer, from his seat in his wagon, as they passed him in the road, just before they climbed the last fence and struck off into the sandy flats along the lake shore. That was quickly done, and Charley Ferris came in for the next turn, almost as a matter of course. It was better fun now, with a beginning made, and a possibility of something more; and the Club marched on, with Charley about a rod in advance. "Tip-up! tip-up!" exclaimed Will, before three minutes were over. "Tige is away. He never lets 'em 'light. There, Charley, one has lit. See it tip-up?" Another kind of snipe-but, as Jeff observed, "not large enough to hurt him "—had alighted on an old log in the brook, and was "practicing his motions" in his own way,—that is, his head and "Will," exclaimed Charley, "we must kill tail rose and fell in quick alternation, as if he something." "There's a chipping-bird," said Otis Burr. "You can make up a string of them." "Hold on, boys ———" Will suddenly darted ahead, for Tiger was standing still near the bank of a very small brook and seemed to be looking at something. were trying to keep his balance on the log, and had a good deal of "tetering" to do to avoid falling off. It was a short shot, but Charley was excited. He was sure he was aiming at that bird up to the moment when he pulled the trigger. The gun went off just as it should have done, and the report "He's pointing," said Jeff; "he 's doing his spoke well for the size of the charge; but the best for his size." The boys did not exactly hold their breaths, but nothing louder than a whisper came from them as they saw their sportsman slip along the bank of the brook and raise his gun to his shoulder. It was a single-barreled gun, but it went off with a very encouraging report. saucy "tip-up" only gave another "teter," and then flew swiftly away toward the lake. "Missed him!" “No, I did n't. I must have hit him; he flies as if he had been wounded. Tige is after him.” Tiger was running in that direction, certainly; but the bird was already out of sight ahead of him, "Loud enough to scare any small bird to death," and the wise dog gave it up and began to smell at said Otis. "Did you get him? Did you get him?" shouted Charley, as Will sprang forward. "What was it?" asked Jeff. "I did n't see any geese." They were smaller birds than geese, and it was no wonder Tiger had been the only member of the Club to detect their presence in the neighborhood. All the rest saw some kind of winged creatures fly away; but Will was picking up something. 66 'Six of em," he shouted, "at one shot!" "What are they?" "What are they, Charley? Don't you know sandpipers when you see them? They're the smallest kind of snipe." "Give me one to carry," said Jeff,-"one in each hand, to balance me. Are n't they a heavy game!" They were bigger than chipping-birds, but there was little more to be said about them, excepting that they were long-billed, long-legged, and "snipey" in their aspect, and could really be cooked and eaten. "Two or three hundred of 'em would make a prime dinner for the Club," remarked Otis. "We'll get some more as we go along the flats. We can take turns shooting. I'll load up." some tracks on the sand. "Your turn next, Jeff," said Will. "I've brought plenty of ammunition." "My turn, is it? Well, then, you wait till 1 stick up a mark,-something that wont fly away after I 've hit it." By the time the gun was loaded, Jeff had pinned an old letter envelope to the bark of a tree not far away, and his "game," as he called it, was all ready for him. There was no danger of his getting excited about it, and he tried in vain to coax Tiger into making a "point" at the tree. Bang! And then four boys ran forward to see if any of the shot had hit the paper. 66 Six, -seven,--eight !" said Charley. "Jeff, if that had been a 'tip-up,' it would have been spoiled. I fired just a little above mine. It tears a bird all to pieces to put too many shot into it." It was Otis Burr's turn to shoot, but Will reminded them that standing still and shooting at a mark was not exactly "rambling." "Let's ramble, then," said Otis. "Put in your biggest shot for me; I'm after something larger than tip-ups' and sandpipers." That end of the lake was as level as a floor, not only on land, but under water. The "sand-flat" reached nearly to the edge of the city itself, but |