It is a book which retails for one dollar and fifty cents; and now comes my special bit of news which ought to rejoice your hearts. Every subscriber to The Pansy who is also a member of the P. S. can secure it for eighty-five cents, by sending that amount to D. Lothrop & Co. with their order!

As for the things which it talks about, of course you know that in so many pages many interesting topics can be handled; for instance, "Christmas Cards," and "Newspapers," and "Camphor," and "Umbrellas," and "Combs," and "Thunderstorms," (!) and "Brooms," and "Lace," and a dozen other things. The fact is, if you take one article, no matter how simple, and seat yourself in a corner to think about it, you can get up twenty questions, right away, which you wish somebody would answer for you. Well, this book answers those very questions.

Now I am going to copy for you a bit right out of the heart of a story in it, which I know will delight the boys; the name of the story is:

"TALKING BY SIGNALS."

When boys live some distance apart, it is pleasant to be able to communicate with each other by means of signals. Many and ingenious have been the methods devised by enthusiastic boys for this purpose. But it can be brought much nearer perfection than has yet been done, by means of a very simple system.

At the age of fourteen, I had an intimate friend who lived more than a mile away, but whose home was in plain sight from mine. As we could not always be together when we wished, we invented a system of signalling requiring a number of different colored flags; but we were not quite satisfied with it, for we could send but few communications by its use. Then, when we came to test it, we found the distance was too great to allow of the different colors being distinguished. The white one was plainly visible. It seemed necessary, therefore, that only white flags should be used. We studied over the problem long and hard, with the following result. We each made five flags by tacking a small stick, eighteen inches long, to both ends of a strip of white cloth, two feet long, by ten inches wide. Then we nailed loops of leather to the side of our fathers' barns, so that, when the sticks were inserted in them, the flags would be in the following positions:

The upper left-hand position was numbered 1, upper right 2, lower right 3, lower left 4, centre, 5. Notice, there was no difference in the flags; the positions they occupied, determined the communication.

Thirty combinations of these positions can be made.

These combinations were written down, and opposite each, was written the question or answer for which it stood. The answers likely to be used most, we placed opposite the shortest combinations, to save time in signalling. My old "Code" lies before me, from which I copy the following examples:

(Then follows a list, and an interesting account of a flag conversation which you can read for yourselves when you get the book.)

We usually spent our noon hour conversing in this manner; and, when it became necessary for either to leave his station, all the flags, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, were put out, signifying "gone."

One combination, 1, 2, 3, 4, was, by mutual consent, reserved for a communication of vital importance, "Come Over!" It was never to be used except in time of trouble, when the case would warrant leaving everything to obey the call. We had little expectation of its ever being used. It was simply a whim; although, like many other things, it served a serious purpose in the end.

Not far from my father's house stood a valuable timber lot, in which he took an especial pride. Adjoining this was an old apple orchard, where the limbs of several trees that had been cut down, and the prunings of the remainder, had been heaped together in two large piles to be burned at a favorable opportunity. One afternoon, when there was not the slightest breath of wind, we armed ourselves, father and I, with green pine boughs and set the brush-heaps a-fire. We had made the heap in as moist a spot as possible, that there might be less danger of the fire spreading through the grass. While the flame was getting under way, I busied myself in gathering stray bits of limbs and twigs—some of them from the edge of the woods—and throwing them on the fire.

"Be careful not to put on any hemlock branches!" shouted my father from his heap. "The sparks may snap out into the grass!"

Almost as he spoke, a live coal popped out with a loud snap, and fell at my feet, and the little tongues of flame began to spread through the dead grass. A few blows from my pine bough had smothered them, when snap, snap, snap! went three more in different directions. As I rushed to the nearest, I remembered throwing on several dead hemlock branches, entirely forgetting their snapping propensity.

Bestowing a few hasty strokes on the first spot of spreading flame, I hastened to the next, and was vigorously beating that, when, glancing behind me, I saw to my dismay that the first was blazing again. Ahead of me was another, rapidly increasing; while the roaring, towering flame at the heap was sputtering ominously, as if preparing to send out a shower of sparks. And, to make matters worse, I felt a puff of wind on my face. Terror-stricken I shouted: "Father! The fire is running! Come quick!"

In a moment he was beside me, and for a short time we fought the flame desperately.

"It'll reach the woods in spite of us!" he gasped, as we came together after a short struggle. "There isn't a neighbor within half a mile, and before you could get help it would be too late! Besides, one alone couldn't do anything against it!"

A sudden inspiration seized me. "I'm going to signal to Harry!" I cried. "If he sees it, he'll come, and perhaps bring help with him."

"Hurry!" he shouted back, and I started for the barn. The distance was short. As I reached it, I glanced over to Harry's. There were some white spots on his barn. He was signalling, and of course could see my signal. Excitedly I placed the flags in 1, 2, 3, 4, and without waiting for an answer, tore back across the fields to the fire. It was gaining rapidly. In a large circle, a dozen rods across, it advanced toward the buildings on one hand, and swept toward the woods on the other. We could only hope to hinder its progress until help should arrive.

Fifteen minutes of desperate struggle, and then, with a ringing cheer, Harry and his father dashed upon the scene. Their arrival infused me with new courage; and four pairs of hands and four willing hearts at length conquered the flame, two rods from the woods!

My father sank down upon a rock, and as he wiped the perspiration from his smutty face, he said:

"There, boys, your signalling has saved the prettiest timber lot in the town of Hardwick! I shall not forget it!"

For the way in which the father proved his gratitude, and what resulted, and a great deal more which is delightful reading, I must refer you to the book; for I have already taken too much space.

ARTISTIC FAC-SIMILE REPRODUCTIONS OF ORIGINAL PICTURES.

This collection of water colors, oil paintings, and line drawings, gathered during the past ten years, includes fine examples of eminent American and foreign artists: Walter Shirlaw, Mary Hallock Foote, Wm. T. Smedley, Howard Pyle, Henry Bacon, Jessie Curtis Shepherd, Harry Fenn, F. S. Church, Chas. S. Reinhart, Miss L. B. Humphrey, F. Childe Hassam, E. H. Garrett, F. H. Lungren, H. Bolton Jones, St. John Harper, Miss Kate Greenaway, George Foster Barnes, Hy. Sandham, and others.

And while the skill of foremost engravers has enabled us to give in the magazine many beautiful engravings from these originals, the mechanical limitations of the graver, and of the steam press, render these "counterfeit presentments," at their best, but disappointing attempts, to those who have seen the originals with their greater delicacy and richness and strength. The real touch of the artist's brush, the finer subtler atmosphere, the full beauty and significance, and the technical excellence, is missing—and it is these features that are retained in these fac-similes.

The method of reproduction employed is the new photogravure process of the Lewis Co., which in result is only equalled by the famous work of Goupil & Cie of Paris. Each impression is on the finest India paper, imported expressly for this purpose, and backed by the best American plate paper, size 12×15 inches. Only a limited number of hand proofs will be made. Ordinary black inks are not employed, but special pigments of various beautiful tones, the tone for each picture being that best suited to emphasize its peculiar sentiment.

These beautiful fac-simile reproductions are equally adapted for portfolios or for framing. They are issued under the name of

Along with the unfailing and refined pleasure a portfolio of these beautiful pictures will give, attention is called to their educational value to young art students, and to all young people, as the photogravure process preserves each artist's peculiar technique, showing how the drawing is really made, something that engraving largely obliterates.

The Wide Awake Art Prints are issued on the first and fifteenth of each month, and are regularly announced in the magazine.

Keeping in view the interests of our readers, we have decided not to place the Art Prints in the hands of agents or the general trade. In this way our patrons are saved the retailers' and jobbers' profits, so that while these beautiful works of art, if placed in the picture stores, would bear a retail price of $3.00 to $10.00, we are able to furnish them to our readers and patrons at a

Orders for half-yearly sets of twelve will be received at $5.50 in advance; and for yearly sets of twenty-four at $10.00 in advance. All pictures are sent in pasteboard rolls, postpaid. Half-yearly and yearly subscribers will receive each monthly pair in one roll. Portfolios, suitable for holding twenty-four or less, will be supplied, postpaid, for 75 cts.