NO 66 'A HEADING FOR NOVEMBER." BY M. MELICENT WATTS, AGE 13. If we consider the sepa- a remarkable facttestifying alike to the world-wide popu larity of ST. NICHOLAS and the wonderful wayfaring of American young folk -that a single competition of League should have brought out a cycle of incidents that, in one sense, literally girdled the earth. It is much to be regretted, moreover, that so few of these narratives by young rovers can appear in the magazine, for all were interesting and well-told. our But what is still worse, we have only space to say that the poems, the photographs, and the drawings this month must speak for themselves-as they do most eloquently. PRIZE-WINNERS, COMPETITION No. 177 In making the awards, contributors' ages are considered. PROSE. Gold badge, Helenka Adamouska (age 13), Massachusetts. Silver badges, Olive E. Northup (age 14), New York; Elnyth Arbuthnot (age 14), Italy; Esther Hill (age 14), Mis- DRAWINGS. Gold badge, Virginia Palmer Bradfield (age 16), Michigan. Silver badge, M. Melicent Watts (age 13), District of Columbia. PHOTOGRAPHS. Gold badges, Stewart S. Kurtz, Jr. (age 14), Ohio; Mary S. Esselstyn (age 14), New York; Elsie Stuart (age 13), New York. Silver badges, Suzanne L. Guilfoyle (age 13), Kansas; Sarah Miles (age 13), Illinois; Marion Lawrence (age 12), France; Elizabeth P. Dwight (age 14), Maine; Louise G. Brecht (age 15), Pennsylvania; Charles H. Kimberly (age 15), New York. PUZZLE-MAKING. Gold badges, Harry C. Bailey (age 15), Pennsylvania; John Foster Chapman (age 17), Ohio. PUZZLE ANSWERS. Gold badge, Mary L. Ingles (age 13), Arizona. THE BROOK BY ELIZABETH MITCHELL DUKES (AGE 12) (Gold Badge. Silver Badge won January, 1914) "MAY I carry ye ower the foamin' burn?" Full many a lad ha'e ask' it! For wha would not risk a few dour looks "No, thank ye, lads, I'll foot mysil'; These stanes seem sure and strong-" WHOOST! Up there rides a braw young carl, Who sweeps the maid along. "Awa'! Awa'! Come catch the thief! But while they rush for arms and help, themselves suddenly thrown off their chairs. A furious cyclone arose. Some terrible power tossed the ship like a nutshell. It was carried mercilessly northward, the gale lasting forty-one hours. A few days later, in the night, the huge silhouettes of icebergs loomed up against the sky, and if the storm had continued one hour more, the ship might have been dashed against the shores of the Sable Islands. The steamer fairly crawled the rest of the trip, and was battered, though still queen-like, when greeted by anxious crowds in New York. It was due in eight days; it sailed in after seventeen. Mother always loved travel, but then she felt she had had enough excitement for some time. A BIT OF TRAVEL BY OLIVE E. NORTH UP (AGE 14) THE dawn was just deepening into a rosy sunrise as our little steamer, the ship which was to carry us into the heart of sunny Italy, steamed out into the blue waters of Lake Garda. At last our dreams had come true, and we were in Italy! Behind us, in their wild majestic solitude, the mountains of Austria stood as a barrier between the cold north and the warm southland, and before us, veiled in the mists of early morning, lay the country of our dreams. Gradually, as we progressed southward, the mists disappeared, revealing on one, side the dark, rocky sides of the mountains, and on the other, sleeping in the morning sun, hundreds of orange, lemon, and olive groves, with here and there the white marble of a summer villa shining through the foliage. On, on, on we rode between the shores of an enchanted country, and gradually the stern mountains A BIT OF TRAVEL BY HELENKA ADAMOUSKA (AGE 13) (Gold Badge. Silver Badge won December, 1912) On a cool, drizzly morning, my mother, then very young, boarded the French liner Gascogne. She traveled alone, under the care of the captain, looking forward to her first crossing with a feeling of delightful anticipation. One evening, the sky being clear, the water promising and with a glass-like surface, Mother exclaimed to the captain: "Oh, I hope we shall have a real storm!" "I fear you'll be disappointed," answered the captain, pleasantly. On the third day, around midnight, Mother was suddenly awakened by a great crash. She clung to her bed as the ship lurched to one side, then it rose up and landed with full force on its stern. On deck was a loud clatter. Mother laughed as bells rang for stewardesses and frightened voices asked what had happened. A storm had arisen unexpectedly, and life-boats were torn away by the waves. The storm continued all night. Next morning, the world seemed to be ending; sometimes enormous, threatening waves like walls leaped over the steamer, again it was thrown up into the air so that the bow was far out of water; occasionally, passengers found "SUMMER DAYS." BY SUZANNE L. GUILFOYLE, AGE 13 (SILVER BADGE.) softened to a distant range of purple hills, and the fruit groves slowly gave place to acres and acres of fragrant vineyards, with now and then a field of yellow grain waving in the morning sun. The breezes wafted to us across the water were heavily laden with the spicy fragrance of crushed grapes fast being made into the famous Italian wine, while now and then a strain of music, dreamy and far-away, would mingle with our thoughts, making us feel that sunny Italy was indeed the "Fairyland of Europe." A BIT OF TRAVEL BY ELNYTH ARBUTH NOT (AGE 14) THREE years ago, we landed at Ceylon on our way to Burma. The bit of travel we proposed to do was from surf-beaten Colombo, with its red earth and longhaired men, to Negombo, a little hili-station above the palm forests. The railway is narrow and tortuous, winding through unending plantations of the most graceful, full-grown cocoanut-palms, whose monotony is occasionally broken by great swaying clusters of giant bamboos. Negombo has memories. The Portuguese held it in the eighteenth century, and have left their mark there. A fort which time and the climate have already wellnigh demolished crowns the brow of a hill with a remnant of dignity and sternness. A half-erased inscription records the sway held over the island by men long dead and chased away, now replaced by a bored garrison of British soldiers in very white barracks. The canal, eighty miles long, which the Portuguese dug two hundred years ago, still remains, and half-naked, wild-looking Cingalese row along it in canoes cut out of the trunks of trees. There is a brass industry there as well. The furnaces consist of holes in the floor of a tumble-down hut, and the material is cast into them. It is taken out when it is as liquid as water, and poured carefully into primitive molds, whence it comes out as though by magic, fashioned into the most lifelike animals. When the sun, sinking in a field of blood and gold before vanishing, glowed on a gigantic banyan-tree (whose branches droop like a weeping willow and take root again in the ground, so that ever new trees are springing up), we knew that it was time to go. And so we left the little hill-station, probably never to return again, but taking with us a lasting remembrance of a charming pilgrimage to a strongly fascinating country. Truly, a bit of travel as interesting as it was unusual. THE BROOK BY KATHARINE WARD (AGE 14) WHEN gallant spring came boldly o'er the hill, Goes winding where the dainty wood-deer roam, With what a merry song it tumbles past! How patiently it curves about the trees! How gaily runs into the fields at last! How sweetly breaks in ripples from the breeze! How bravely it has borne itself from birth; Ah, little brook, when cruel winter 's come And stilled your pretty chatter with its cold, When birds are gone, and trees stand gaunt and numb That lately flaunted high their crowns of gold, Still hasten forward, ever brave and bold, Though prisoned in by ice, 't is not for long, For springtime comes, and gaily as of old We hear the hopeful laughter of your song. A BIT OF TRAVEL (My tenth birthday party) BY ESTHER HILL (AGE 14) (Silver Badge) FROM Rotterdam, Holland, where my tenth birthday found us, we took a boat down the Maas to Dordrecht, and found a street-fair in progress. pay him afterward. The man told the boys, and they made a rush for that merry-go-round. They did n't stop to find places, but just caught hold anywhere, and started off, a cheering, chattering cargo. The news seemed to have scattered like magic, for the children came running down every street, and soon we were fairly swamped. There was nothing to do but go as quickly as possible, and, after we had sent off three merry loads, we hurried away. Every time the children caught sight of us they cheered, and some followed us far down the street. It was quite the nicest, queerest, most unexpected birthday party I had ever had. "SUMMER DAYS." BY LOUISE G. BRECHT, AGE 15. (SILVER BADGE.) At some of the many gaily-colored booths which lined the street, they were selling "waffeln" and "poffertjes." The latter were a kind of pancake, piled high on plates with plenty of sugar and butter in between them. We ate two dozen apiece. One of the attractions was an old-fashioned merrygo-round, turned by an old white horse, and grinding out gay music. I, of course, wanted to take a ride, and, while I proudly sat my yellow giraffe, a small boy came up to my mother and asked her for a cent, a small Dutch coin equal to about one third of our cent. He wanted to take a ride. Several other boys came up, A BIT OF TRAVEL BY ROBERT W. LEWIS, JR. (AGE II) IN the late spring and early summer of The steamer Manchuria, on which I was, had anchored in the morning and was to stay for the whole day to be coaled. For a ship to be coaled really takes a lot of work, even with machinery; but to do it with the hands is nothing short of marvelous. Soon after we anchored, flat barges loaded with coal were coming from all directions. In an hour, the Japanese made ladders about four feet in width, and of various lengths, the rounds being boards, and the two supporting sides of bamboo poles bound with hemp rope. The men on the barges shoveled coal into baskets, which were passed by the women up the ladders to the top, where men threw each basket's contents into an opening in the side of the ship. They then handed the baskets to boys, whose work it was to stack them up and throw them into the barges to be used again. It is a known fact that this method, although done by the hands, is the fastest yet employed. |