I HAVE been waiting for the time to come to write about Buffalo, because I knew something queer to write. Three of the nice streets there are named Niagara St., Erie St., and Church St.; but their names used to be Schimmelpennick Avenue, Vollenhoven Avenue and Stadnitski Avenue! Isn’t it a good thing they were changed?

Margaret L. Johnson.

The Indian name for Buffalo is Teosahway. I think it is much prettier than Buffalo. Some people say the city was named for an old Indian chief who lived in a hut in the center of where the main business part is now located; the Indian’s name was Buffaloe. But others think it was named after the “creek,” where the buffaloes used to come in droves.

Henry Rice.

The city of Buffalo used to be spelled with an e, and the citizens had a great time getting rid of that final e. Father says that years after it had been dropped the city of Binghamton, N. Y., which used to be spelled “Binghampton,” set to work to get rid of that unnecessary p. Buffalo, forgetting the trouble it had had, was the last to remember the change; long after others were pretty well educated, the Buffalo postmaster would send the Binghamton mail in a package marked “Binghampton.” At last the Binghamton postmaster made up a package for Buffalo and addressed it in very large letters, “Buffalop,” then wrote underneath: “If you are so fond of the letter p take it.” Father says he believes this cured them.

Sarah H. Atchison.

My grandmother used to live in Buffalo when the water supply was very different from what it is now. There used to be an old man whom they called “Water John.” He had a cart and an old horse, and he used to fill a hogshead with water at the lake, and go through the streets peddling it for a shilling a barrel. A shilling was twelve and a half cents. Grandmother says they always used to have to give Water John thirteen cents; and I don’t see why they did not call it thirteen cents a barrel, instead of a price which nobody could exactly pay.

Laura Holman.

I had a great-uncle who used to live in Buffalo when there were only about forty houses there, all built of logs; and I have an uncle living in Buffalo now who went there in 1825, when there were about two thousand inhabitants, and has seen it grow to its present size—about two hundred and fifty thousand; some say more than that. It must be a great thing to be able to look back on such changes.

James Campbell.

My grandmother went to Buffalo when she was a little girl and took a ride on the “Black Rock Railroad”; that was what they called it, but it was just a street car. Grandmother thinks it was the first horse railroad used in this country. There was a car for pleasant weather and one for storms. The pleasant weather one was like a great box, with an outside seat for the driver. The seats were just boards with straight backs. There was no cover, and the sun could pelt down on you as much as it pleased. For bad weather they had one with a top, and canvas curtains that buttoned down. The car was drawn by one horse, and Grandmother says they did not use any time table, but came along just whenever it happened. The fare was a shilling.

Lucy Stevenson.

It is great fun to read about Buffalo as it used to be. I was there last summer and stopped at an elegant hotel. I forget its name, but I know they said it was the handsomest in the city, and it was just splendid, I tell you! A little while after I came home I read about “The Farmers’ Hotel,” which was the grand hotel of Buffalo in 1832. I saw a picture of it; the queerest looking little old building you ever saw, with a bell on the top like a great cow bell; it was rung by a rope, and that is the way people used to be called to their meals. The book I was reading said it was a very useful bell, for it not only told when breakfast or dinner was ready at the Farmers’ Hotel, but was useful as a time-keeper in every house in the neighborhood; for there were very few people indeed in those days who carried watches, and clocks were very rare and costly.

Reuben S. Benton.

I have a letter which was written to my grandmother in 1836, by a lady who lived in Buffalo. Grandmother lived in New York, and the amount of postage which it took to carry the letter from Buffalo to New York was two shillings. This was marked in red ink on the outside of the letter; not on an envelope, for none were used, but one side of the paper was left blank, and the letter was folded in a curious way, and marked “Paid 2 s.” Grandmother said her sister in Albany used to get letters from the same lady, and hers were marked: “Paid 18¾.” At that time it cost less to write from Buffalo to Albany than it did from Buffalo to New York; and I must say that seems reasonable. Why should letters be two cents now, whether they travel ten miles or a thousand? But I am glad they are not twenty-five cents.

Carrie Foster.

Buffalo is a great city. You can start from it and go anywhere you want to, at most any hour of the day or night. There are as many as thirteen different railroad lines to choose from, to say nothing of steamboats and all that sort of thing. But it is the queerest laid out city in this country. A man Ellicott planned it almost a century ago, and meant to build a palace for himself right in the center, but he never did.

John Jones.

Mother says I ought to be able to write you a letter about Buffalo, because I’ve been there lots of times. But I can’t. What is there to write about a city, I should like to know? They are all alike; great long streets with big houses on both sides, or big stores or something, and churches every little way, and crowds of people in the streets getting in a fellow’s way all the time, and carts running over you, and carriages that you want to take a ride in and can’t; and an awful noise and smoke and hurly-burly. I’d rather spend one afternoon in the country in an apple orchard or a strawberry field, or by a trout stream, than to be a whole week in any city I ever saw. Buffalo has some splendid-looking houses and parks, and there is a lunatic asylum that I was interested in, because the people acted so queer. I don’t like Buffalo, however, nor any other big place.

Tom Hurst.

I think they must make flour enough in Buffalo to supply the world with bread. My father says that twelve years ago there were eleven great flouring mills there, and he doesn’t know how many more have been started since. At that time they made every year about two hundred and fifty thousand barrels of flour; but dear me! it would take more flour than that to feed the world, wouldn’t it? What a lot of things we do have to eat!

Jimmie Tucker.

I should think Buffalo would be called the “City of Churches.” There must be hundreds of churches there. I went with my uncle and brother to look at different ones, and it took us two days just to see those which were on three streets of the city. Some of them are lovely, and some were great, dark-looking buildings, like jails.

Lucy Stone.