  Many anecdotes have been published respecting dogs, proving that, besides giving evidence of being endowed with certain moral qualities, they possess and exercise memory, reasoning powers, and forethought; they can communicate with each other, form plans, and act in concert. The subject, however, is by no means exhausted, and dog stories almost always meet with a welcome reception, especially from juvenile readers. The following story gives an instance, in the first place, of two dogs combining to perform a certain action; in the second place, it shows that one of these dogs evidently understood from the conversation of his master and another man the consequences likely to result from this action, and that he thereupon formed and carried out a plan to avoid them. COME OUT AND HAVE SOME FUN. COME OUT AND HAVE SOME FUN. A farmer who resided in a town on the borders of Dartmoor was the owner of a valuable sheep-dog. So skillful was this dog in collecting and driving the sheep, that he almost performed the part of a shepherd. If the farmer, on his return from market, wanted the sheep to be driven to the field, he had only to say, "Keeper, take the sheep to field," and the dog would collect the flock and drive them to the field without suffering a single one to stray. But the proverb, "Evil communications corrupt good manners," is as applicable to dogs as to men. Keeper got acquainted with another dog, which proved to be of disreputable character, and like other disreputable characters, had a habit of rambling about at night. When the farmer was smoking his evening pipe by the kitchen fire, and Keeper was stretched along the hearth, apparently asleep, a low bark would be heard outside; Keeper would prick up his ears, and when the door was opened, would make his escape and join his companion, and then away would go both dogs on a ramble. This game was carried on for some little time; Keeper's bad habits were not suspected at home, and he did his duty by his master's sheep as faithfully as ever. In the mean time it became known in the town that a few miles distant many sheep had been "worried" by dogs, but as yet the culprit or culprits had not been discovered. It may, perhaps, be as well to explain that by "worrying" sheep is meant that they have been attacked by dogs, which seize the sheep by the throat, bite them, and suck the blood, and then leave them to perish. In a single night one dog has been known to "worry" forty sheep. No wonder such animals are a terror to farmers. Besides, if a dog once takes to "worrying" sheep, he never leaves off the habit. One evening as the farmer sat by his fire smoking and conversing with a neighbor, Keeper as usual basking by the fire, and waiting the expected call of his dog companion, the conversation turned on the great number of sheep that had been lately "worried" and destroyed, and the loss that would ensue to the farmers. "Well," said the neighbor, "we caught one on 'em, with his mouth and coat bloody, and we hanged him up on the spot. They do say thy dog Keeper was with un." "It is too true, he was there," replied the farmer; then looking at the apparently sleeping dog, and shaking his head at him, he said, "Thee knows thee has been with un. Thy turn will come next. We'll hang thee up to-morrow." Keeper lay still, pretending sleep, but with his ears open. He had heard his death-warrant, and was determined that it should not be carried into execution if he could prevent it. When the outer door was opened, he slunk off quietly, and was never seen again. What became of him was never known. Who will say after this that dogs do not understand the conversation of men, especially when it relates to "worrying" sheep, and the punishment it entails on the guilty dogs? Music: A Fox went out in a hungry plight. The Lesson of the Bath.—One of the most valuable discoveries made by Archimedes, the famous scholar of Syracuse, in Sicily, relates to the weight of bodies immersed in water. Hiero, King of Syracuse, had given a lump of gold to be made into a crown, and when it came back he suspected that the workmen had kept back some of the gold, and had made up the weight by adding more than the right quantity of silver; but he had no means of proving this, because they had made it weigh as much as the gold which had been sent. Archimedes, puzzling over this problem, went to his bath. As he stepped in he saw the water, which his body displaced, rise to a higher level in the bath, and to the astonishment of his servants he sprang out of the water, and ran home through the streets of Syracuse almost naked, crying, "Eureka! Eureka!" ("I have found it! I have found it!"). What had he found? He had discovered that any solid body put into a vessel of water displaces a quantity of water equal to its own bulk, and therefore that equal weights of two substances, one light and bulky, and the other heavy and small, will displace different quantities of water. This discovery enabled him to solve his problem. He procured one lump of gold and another of silver, each weighing exactly the same as the crown. Of course the lumps were not the same size, because silver is lighter than gold, and so it takes more of it to make up the same weight. He first put the gold into a basin of water, and marked on the side of the vessel the height to which the water rose. Next, taking out the gold, he put in the silver, which, though it weighed the same, yet, being larger, made the water rise higher; and this height he also marked. Lastly, he took out the silver and put in the crown. Now if the crown had been pure gold, the water would have risen only up to the mark of the gold, but it rose higher, and stood between the gold and silver marks, showing that silver had been mixed with it, making it more bulky; and by calculating how much water was displaced, Archimedes could estimate roughly how much silver had been added. This was the first attempt to measure the specific gravity of different substances; that is, the weight of any particular substance compared to an equal bulk of some other substance taken as a standard. In weighing solids or liquids, water is the usual standard. How this Solid Earth keeps Changing.—The student of history reads of the great sea-fight which King Edward III. fought with the French off Sluys; how in those days the merchant vessels came up to the walls of that flourishing sea-port by every tide; and how, a century later, a Portuguese fleet conveyed Isabella from Lisbon, and an English fleet brought Margaret of York from the Thames, to marry successive Dukes of Burgundy at the port of Sluys. In our time, if a modern traveller drives twelve miles out of Bruges, across the Dutch frontier, he will find a small agricultural town, surrounded by corn fields and meadows and clumps of trees, whence the sea is not in sight from the top of the town-hall steeple. This is Sluys. Once more. We turn to the great Baie du Mont Saint Michel, between Normandy and Brittany. In Roman authors we read of the vast forest called "Setiacum Nemus," in the centre of which an isolated rock arose, surmounted by a temple of Jupiter, once a college of Druidesses. Now the same rock, with its glorious pile dedicated to St. Michael, is surrounded by the sea at high tides. The story of this transformation is even more striking than that of Sluys, and its adequate narration justly earned for M. Manet the gold medal of the French Geographical Society in 1828. Once again. Let us turn for a moment to the Mediterranean shores of Spain, and the mountains of Murcia. Those rocky heights, whose peaks stand out against the deep blue sky, scarcely support a blade of vegetation. The algarobas and olives at their bases are artificially supplied with soil. It is scarcely credible that these are the same mountains which, according to the forest-book of King Alfonso el Sabio, were once clothed to their summits with pines and other forest trees, while soft clouds and mist hung over a rounded, shaggy outline of wood where now the naked rocks make a hard line against the burnished sky. But Arab and Spanish chroniclers alike record the facts, and geographical science explains the cause. There is scarcely a district in the whole range of the civilized world where some equally interesting geographical story has not been recorded, and where the same valuable lessons may not be taught. This is comparative geography. That our youthful correspondents may not think we slight any of their favors, we would say that we regret exceedingly that our limited space compels us to print so few of their prettily worded and neatly written letters. We thank you all for your praise and hearty goodwill, but while we read all your comments on Young People with attention, as in that way we learn what pleases you best, we must choose for printing those letters which tell something of interest to other young readers. To one thing we would call your attention. When you send drawings of "Wiggles" and other picture puzzles, be careful to do it on a separate piece of paper. Your letters are all recorded, and filed away, and if your idea for a "Wiggle" is drawn on the same piece of paper on which you write your letter, it makes confusion. We hope our young correspondents will pay attention to this suggestion. Ishpeming, Michigan. In Harper's Young People, No. 10, Mr. Lossing wrote about "Putnam's Narrow Escape." He said his informant was General Ebenezer Mead. Please tell Mr. Lossing that General Mead was my great-grandfather. I am nine years old. I was born in Evergreen, Louisiana, and came North when I was only three weeks old, so I don't remember about any home but where I live now. Ben Bryant Hill. Del Norte, Colorado. I am ten years old, and live away out in the Rocky Mountains. I went down to the hotel last night, and saw the twelve Ute chiefs who are on the way to Washington. Ouray, the head chief, had his wife with him. There being but one chair in the room, she very kindly sat flat upon the floor, and allowed her husband to occupy the chair. Wallace S. Sheepscott Bridge, Maine. I am eleven years old. My father tells me lots of stories about Indians, and shows me the places where some poor people were killed by them. Our field takes in a part of Garrison Hill, where people used to come into the fort when the Indians came. My father says Sheepscott is a very old place, and the Pilgrims came here for corn. Close by our field is an old barn where the Indians came when some men were threshing, and fired on them, and killed two and took their scalps off, and one man hit back at them with his flail, and broke an Indian's arm, and they carried him prisoner to Canada. It says so on his old grave-stone, and I have seen it. My grandfather shot bears, but there are none here now. The people here build little houses on the ice, and catch lots of smelts through a hole in the ice. Sometimes there are as many as a hundred houses. The smelts are sent to New York. I like Young People, and hope I shall always get it. Clarence E.C. Warren, Ohio. I want to tell you about my dogs. I have two coach-dogs; Spot and Sport are their names. I used to drive them in a sleigh, and they would draw me all about the town. I trained them all myself. Sport was just like some horses; he would back and kick and chew his harness. One day he chewed it all to pieces. Spot was good all the time. I am older now, and drive ponies. I drove the dogs when I was five years old. Alaska P. Emporia, Kansas. My uncle gave me a little axe on New-Year's Day, of which I am very proud, and make good use of it by cutting wood for my mamma, but Kansas wood is very hard to split. My papa says, "Where there is a will there is a way," and I am going to earn money enough with my axe to subscribe for Young People. Porter Hunter. East Smithfield, Pennsylvania. I have a canary. His name is Willie. He sings very sweetly, but he has not bathed for a long time. Do you know any way to make him take his bath? Mary. Sometimes canaries will not bathe in cold weather. You must give your bird tepid water, otherwise it will get chilled, and sicken. Try putting the bath dish in its cage and leaving it alone. Some canaries will never bathe if they are watched. Peabody, Massachusetts. I have two Maltese cats exactly alike. One of them will eat pea-nuts faster than I can crack them. The one that eats pea-nuts has a bad cold. What can I do for her? Harry P.H. Your kitty has a very funny appetite. Keep her in a warm corner by the fire, and give her plenty of warm milk to drink, and her cold will get well. A little weak catnip tea mixed with the milk would do her good. Robie I.G. has a kitty which climbs up on the balusters every morning and tries to open his chamber door; Carlotta P. writes that her kitties Betsy and Busti play with balls, and run up the curtains as if they were climbing trees; Charlie M.S., Annie C. and Maggie W., Mattie V.S., and Ida R.L., also write of pet cats and dogs and birds. Maynard A.M.—Your story and poems are very pretty, and show much fancy and imagination for a boy of your age, but we have not room to print them. We return them to Detroit, Michigan, the only address you give. "Mystic."—Your drawing is very well done, but we can not use it. Miss A.T.—There is no commentary on Pope's translation of Homer, but many interesting papers have been published on the subject. Edward M. Van C.—Your letter was a long time reaching its destination, as it first took a trip to the Dead-letter Office at Washington, and was forwarded to us from there. Like the little girl mentioned in the paper on the Dead-letter Office in Young People, No. 11, you posted it without a stamp. E.L.M.—You write a very pretty letter considering that you are "only a little girl nine years old," and you need not feel nervous in future. Miss E.W.—Many thanks for the charming letter and poem you so kindly forward from the bright little nine-year-old girl, Jennie Lancaster, of Marshall, Texas. Addie W.P.—The quotation you wish is probably this: "Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it." It occurs in Shakspeare's play of Macbeth, act first, scene fourth. George O.D.—We are very sorry you are so unfortunate, and trust the weekly visit of Young People will continue to brighten the monotony of your illness. W.T. Doty.—The incident you mention must be taken as an exception to a general rule, as the personal observation of many students of natural history establishes the statement to which you demur. Ethel S.M.—Either spelling of the word is correct. The form you object to is more often used by American writers than the one you found in your English history. Favors are acknowledged from Esther B., Minnesota; Osborn D., Arkansas; Bert C.S., Iowa; Tillie F.W., Maryland; Ethel P., Washington, D.C.; Willie Baldwin, Massachusetts; Louis C.V., New Jersey. From Connecticut—Archie H.L., "Daisy." From New York—M. Cohn, Addie and A. Goodnow. From Missouri—Charlie B., Theodore W.B. From Illinois—S.M.H., Marion Potter. From California—Mary M. Carr, Arthur White. Correct answers to puzzles are received from Charlie A.T., Illinois; H.W. Singer, Ohio; Florence and Pauline W., California; J.T. Newcombe, Michigan; Ida U.B., Minnesota; John R. Glen, Georgia; S. Addison W., Maryland; C.S.C., Connecticut; J.H. Hassett, New Hampshire. From Massachusetts—A.A. Gilmore, Stanley King, C.H.A., A.F.C. From New York—Thomas H. Van T., F.W.P., Mabel L., William MacG., Walter L., H. and B., Rufus W.T., E.S., F. Bisbee. Oscar F., New Jersey. Many of these answers are given in very neat operations in figures. Answers to Mathematical Puzzles in No. 10:No. 5.—While selling their apples separately the boys received an average price of two and one-twelfth cents per apple. The boy who sold the whole lot together received only two cents per apple, losing one-twelfth of a cent on each. This loss on sixty apples amounted to five cents. No. 6.—Mother's age, sixty-five; oldest daughter's, thirty; second daughter's, twenty; youngest daughter's, fifteen. ADVERTISEMENTS. |
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