HOW I CAME TO WRITE MY FIRST BOOK.

When I was sixteen years old I belonged to a composition class. It was our custom to go on the recitation seat every day with clean slates, and we were allowed ten minutes to write seventy words on any subject the teacher thought suited to our capacity. One day he gave out "What a Man Would See if He Went to Greenland." My heart was in the matter, and before the ten minutes were up I had one side of my slate filled. The teacher listened to the reading of our compositions, and when they were all over he simply said: "Some of you will make your living by writing one of these days." That gave me something to ponder upon. I did not say so out loud, but I knew that my composition was as good as the best of them. By the way, there was another thing that came in my way just then. I was reading at that time one of Mayne Reid's works which I had drawn from the library, and I pondered upon it as much as I did upon what the teacher said to me. In introducing Swartboy to his readers he made use of this expression: "No visible change was observable in Swartboy's countenance." Now, it occurred to me that if a man of his education could make such a blunder as that and still write a book, I ought to be able to do it, too. I went home that very day and began a story, "The Old Guide's Narrative," which was sent to the New York Weekly, and came back, respectfully declined. It was written on both sides of the sheets but I didn't know that this was against the rules. Nothing abashed, I began another, and receiving some instruction, from a friend of mine who was a clerk in a book store, I wrote it on only one side of the paper. But mind you, he didn't know what I was doing. Nobody knew it; but one day, after a hard Saturday's work—the other boys had been out skating on the brick-pond—I shyly broached the subject to my mother. I felt the need of some sympathy. She listened in amazement, and then said: "Why, do you think you could write a book like that?" That settled the matter, and from that day no one knew what I was up to until I sent the first four volumes of Gunboat Series to my father. Was it work? Well, yes; it was hard work, but each week I had the satisfaction of seeing the manuscript grow until the "Young Naturalist" was all complete.

—Harry Castlemon in the Writer.

GUNBOAT SERIES.

Frank the Young Naturalist.
Frank on a Gunboat.
Frank in the Woods.
Frank before Vicksburg.
Frank on the Lower Mississippi.
Frank on the Prairie.

ROCKY MOUNTAIN SERIES.

Frank Among the Rancheros.
Frank in the Mountains.
Frank at Don Carlos' Rancho.

SPORTSMAN'S CLUB SERIES.

The Sportsman's Club in the Saddle.
The Sportsman's Club Afloat.
The Sportsman's Club Among the Trappers.

FRANK NELSON SERIES.

Snowed up.
Frank in the Forecastle.
The Boy Traders.

BOY TRAPPER SERIES.

The Buried Treasure.
The Boy Trapper.
The Mail Carrier.

ROUGHING IT SERIES.

George in Camp.
George at the Fort.
George at the Wheel.

ROD AND GUN SERIES.

Don Gordon's Shooting Box.
The Young Wild Fowlers.
Rod and Gun Club.

GO-AHEAD SERIES.

Tom Newcombe.
Go-Ahead.
No Moss.

WAR SERIES.

True to His Colors.
Rodney the Partisan.
Rodney the Overseer.
Marcy the Blockade-Runner.
Marcy the Refugee.
Sailor Jack the Trader.

HOUSEBOAT SERIES.

The Houseboat Boys.
The Mystery of Lost River CaÑon.
The Young Game Warden.

AFLOAT AND ASHORE SERIES.

Rebellion in Dixie.
A Sailor in Spite of Himself.
The Ten-Ton Cutter.

THE PONY EXPRESS SERIES.

The Pony Express Rider.
The White Beaver.
Carl, The Trailer.