What Two Children Did

And all this time they had saved their birthday money!

It was accidental, for they had in the multitude of other events and presents, forgotten they had it until one morning, in emptying their banks for "peanut" nickles, with a dexterity born of long practice, they discovered the two gold coins, for they each had been given one, of course, and they rushed off at once to show them.

"Haven't we saved this money, though?" they said, full of pride, and then they straightway sat down to make plans for spending it.

"Let's each buy a puppy for a parting gift to Bobby and Nan," suggested Ethelwyn, as she and Beth were soon going away to visit the Home.

"Yes, sir, let's," said Beth. "They dearly love Bose, and Mr. Smithers, our vegetable man, has six and will sell us two, I know."

Mr. Smithers said he would be charmed—or words to that effect—to sell them two Newfoundland puppies at five dollars each, and they struck a bargain at once.

It was easier to do because mother had gone to town on business and was to be away all day.

Mr. Smithers promised to bring them in that afternoon, and they went off to wait until then with what patience they could muster.

They met Joe on their way to the barn, and noticed that his usual ruddy countenance was grave and pale.

"My sister is sick," he explained, "and she's getting no better."

"Why don't you tell mother?" asked Ethelwyn.

"O it's everything your mother's done for us this summer, without bothering her more," he said. "I'm going to try to get my sister up in the country, but—I can't yet awhile."

"Will it cost very much, Joe?"

"No, not much, but there's so many of us to feed and clothe that we never have any money left for anything else."

"Mother will help, I know," said Ethelwyn, and they went up to the house, pondering deeply.

"Those horrid puppies! I wish we'd never heard of them," said Ethelwyn. "Then we could give Dick the money. What did you think about them for?"

"You did yourself."

"No, I didn't. Anyway, let's watch for Mr. Smithers at the back garden gate, and tell him not to bring them."

So they went down through the garden, and, looking over the gate, they saw a very sulky little colored girl carrying a long limp bundle of yellow calico, with a round woolly head protruding at the top.

"O that cunning baby I Where'd you get him?" they cried both at once, opening the gate to look at him.

The sulky nurse shifted the bundle to her other shoulder.

"Allus had him, mos'," she said; "him or 'nuther one, perzactly like him, to lug roun' while ma's washin'."

"Don't you like to play with him?" asked Ethelwyn in a shocked tone.

"No, I don't," was the emphatic reply; "nor you wouldn't needa, ef you had it to do contin'ul."

"Why, you can play he's a doll."

"He's showin' off now, but when he gits to bawlin', you ain't a gwine to make no mistake 'bout his bein' nuffin' 'tal but a cry-baby," she continued, preparing to move on.

"Would you sell him?" asked Beth eagerly.

"Yessum, I sholy would," said his sister with a gleam of interest; "we ain't a gwine to miss him, wid six mo'! I'll sell him easy fo' a dolla'."

There was a hurried consultation between Beth and Ethelwyn.

"It's cheaper, and would leave nine dollars for Joe. Bobby could keep him one day, and Nan the next, or we could get something else for one of them. I think Nan would like him the best."

"We will buy him," said Ethelwyn, at the end of the consultation.

There was a moment of hesitation, and then the yellow bundle went into Ethelwyn's outstretched arms.

Beth went off to get the money. She ran breathlessly down the street to get the change, she was so afraid the girl would change her mind and take back the baby.

There was no doubt but that the girl was in rather a dubious state of mind over it, but the silver dollar clinched her resolution, and she walked firmly off, without a backward glance in the direction of the gurgling Samuel Saul, which was the alliteral name of the yellow bundle.

Ethelwyn and Beth, after a further consultation, took him to the attic. They considered it providential that Sierra Nevada was assisting in the laundry, and that the coast was therefore free from all observers.

Samuel Saul was rocked in the cradle in which the ancestors of the children, as well as themselves, had been rocked, and he, well contented with the motion and not ill pleased with his surroundings, presently fell into a delicious slumber.

"'Rockabye baby on the tree top,'" came from the open attic window, and floated down to Joe currying Ninkum, and to 'Vada, Mandy, and Aunt Sophie in the laundry.

Joe smiled at the cheerful refrain, and 'Vada, sure that they were in no mischief, mopped her dripping brow, and went on with her work.

Watching Samuel Saul's peaceful slumbers grew a little monotonous after a while, so Beth descended to the kitchen for a plate of cookies and a glass of water, and leaving this substantial luncheon beside their sleeping charge, they went down-stairs and for a while played on the piano with more strength than anything else. After that they took more cookies and went over to play with Bobby.

Bobby, making a chicken yard out of wire netting, was delighted to have assistance, and they telephoned for Nan, who speedily joined them.

"Mother's gone to town to-day to see your grandfather, who owns a bank, Bobby," said Ethelwyn.

"I expect it's on account of his losing a whole lot of money," rejoined Bobby, standing on tiptoe on a box to pound in a nail.

"Where did he lose it? Were there holes in his pockets?" asked Beth, unrolling the wire at Bobby's order.

"On change," said Bobby, with his mouth full of nails.

"Our money is in your grandfather's bank, and the Home money and Grandmother Van Stark's. I hope he hasn't lost anybody's but his own," said Ethelwyn anxiously.

"You're not very polite," said Nan.

"Well I do, but if he lost only change, prob'ly it's his own, and mother's gone to give him some more."

"Pooh!" said Bobby, "it's not—"

But before he could say anything more, excited voices were heard, and four black and shining faces appeared over the top of the fence, while a guilty eye looked through a knot-hole farther down.

"Has you all seen anything of a low down black pickaninny which is los'?" This remark came from 'Vada.

"Which is stole," corrected a mountain of flesh, quivering with wrath.

"Is it Samuel Saul?" asked Ethelwyn.

"It is so; will you projus him?" asked the mountain.

"He's in the attic asleep; his sister sold him to us for a present to Bobby and Nan—"

"O let's see him," cried Nan, with lively interest.

"You all is gwine to leab him alone—" began the mountain, when Mandy turned ponderously in her direction.

"Will you, Martha Jane Jenkins, please kindly rec'lect dat you is 'sociatin' wid quality now, an' take a good care how you talk, though sholy it may be de fus time dat you has ebber been in good sassity—"

"Dat is sholy de trufe w'en I has been wid you," said Martha Jane Jenkins, wrathfully.

But now from the open attic windows were heard such piercing shrieks that they all with one consent turned in that direction.

"Americky, you go bring me you brudda," instructed Martha, cuffing soundly the girl with the guilty eye.

Presently America and the children returned with the wailing Samuel Saul to the place where Mandy, 'Vada, and Aunt Sophie were standing, loftily ignoring the angry mother and making caustic remarks calculated to add to her discomfort.

In the capacious arms of his mother, Samuel Saul ceased his repining and contentedly gurgled again. As the united ones went off, Martha Jane Jenkins with her head in the air and America remorsefully weeping in the rear, Ethelwyn said, "Well, our dollar's gone, and our baby too, and I thought we had made such a bargain. I don't know what Mr. Smithers will say."

"And poor Joe too," said Beth.

"There comes Mr. Smithers now," exclaimed Bobby.

"Yes an' I ain't got your puppies either, for when I got home I found my boy had sold two and given away two, so there wasn't any left but what we wanted to keep."

"Well, I'm thankful," said Ethelwyn; "for we bought a baby instead, only its mother took it back, and we just had to use the rest of the money for something else. Thank you, Mr. Smithers."

"You're entirely welcome," responded he.

That evening there was considerable news to tell mother when she came from town, and she both laughed and lectured them a little over the baby episode. After the children told her what Bobby had said about his grandfather losing money, they asked anxiously, "Oh mother, did he lose anything of ours?"

For the first time in a long while the two straight worry lines came back between mother's eyes, and the children immediately climbed in her lap to kiss them away.

"I can't tell yet, dearest ones," she said after a while. "I have been very foolish to leave so much of our money in one bank, I am afraid, but I had such faith, too much, perhaps, and I fear—"

It was very comforting to have their dear warm cheeks against her own, and courage, almost vanquished during this trying day, came back. After awhile she laughed with them again, and told them stories until bedtime, promising them also that Joe's sister would be sent to the Home as soon as she was able.

The next morning, however, the lines came back, and the children, seeing them, resolved that they would write Bobby's grandfather a letter.

"If there's anything I'm glad of, it's that I know how to write," said Ethelwyn. "It was very hard to learn."

They went up-stairs to the nursery where their own small desks were and taking some of their beloved Kate Green a way paper with pictures of quaint little children on it, after much trouble, ink, and many sheets of paper, as well as consultations with Bobby and Nan, they finished and posted a very small envelope to Bobby's grandfather, whose address they obtained from Bobby.

Bobby's grandfather, on coming down the next morning to the bank, found this communication among the official-looking matter on the desk. The picture in the corner of the envelope was surrounded by these words:

The poke-bonneted pair with Tommy and his hoop looked curiously out of place among their official surroundings.

The lines of worry were thickly sown in the banker's face, and as there were no round, rosy-cheeked children in his silent home to kiss them away, they stayed and grew deeper each day. He half smiled, however, as he picked up the Greenaway envelope and curiously broke the seal. This is what he read:

"DEAR BOBBY'S GRANDFATHER,

"We live next door to Bobby, who is quite often a nice boy, though he wishes us to say always, and we are sorry to learn that you are losing change money, for your sake, and for fear you'll go on and lose ours, Grandmother Van Stark's and the Home's. Ours doesn't matter so much as the others, for we have $9.00 left of our birthday money, and it's lasted so long that it will prob'ly go on lasting, specially if we forget it, or unless we buy more babies, which we shan't do now because of not being able; but dear grandmother without money would be awful, and the Home not to have money for the poor little city children that are sick would be awful, too. Please, please don't lose that, and we will pray for you and love you hard all the days of our life. Amen.

"As there is no more paper in our boxes on account of spoiling so much we will say good-bye.

"ETHELWYN, BETH, NAN, and BOBBY.

"P.S.—The first one she wrote it.

"P.S.—My mother said because she had faith in you was why you have our money, and so have we."

When the banker had finished this somewhat remarkable epistle, of which the children had been so proud, there were tears in his eyes, although his mouth was smiling, and the lines of worry did not seem so deep nor so stern.

He pushed his other mail aside unread, and sat for a long time thinking. Presently he called for his stenographer, and dictated telegram after telegram, the import of which made that impassive person start and glance up in amazement several times. Then, seizing a sheet of paper, the banker started to write a letter for himself.

"DEAR CHILDREN, (it began)

"Do not worry. I shall not lose one penny of yours, nor Grandmother Van Stark's, nor the blessed Home's, nor any one's, I hope, but my own, and not enough of that to hurt; at any rate, I shall still have enough, I think, to buy a railroad ticket to Bobby's house. So tell him that I wish he'd tell his mother to have a good supper to-morrow night, and you children must plan it and all come and eat with me.

"Yours, with love,

"BOBBY'S GRANDFATHER.

"P.S.—Be sure to have plenty of candy for supper."

The excitement and the joy that this letter produced were something startling. Away went the worry lines from Mrs. Rayburn's dear face, and back came the laughter the children loved. In Bobby's house they planned a most wonderful menu of fried chicken, candy, cake, and ice cream. Mandy baked spice cakes at Nan's and Bobby's special request, and nobody thought anything whatever about indigestion or after effects; for where everybody laughs and is happy, there is no need to fear indigestion.

The children went to the station to meet the guest, and, when the train came in, greeted him with shouts of welcome, and, proudly surrounding him, marched down the street like a royal procession.

There would not be words enough to describe the feast that followed at Bobby's house. All the children wished to sit next to his grandfather, so that he had to change places at every course (all of which had candy interludes) and thus that mighty matter was accomplished to the entire satisfaction of the children.

And after supper Bobby's grandfather played games with them and soon lost his worry lines, probably on the floor where he was playing horse or bear. No one picked them up, so it isn't positively known where he lost them. When Ethelwyn and Beth suddenly bethought themselves that they were to go with their mother to the Home the next day, to take Joe's sister there, it was at once decided that Bobby and Nan should go too, for one beautiful outing before school should begin.

"And we will need it," said Bobby, with a deep sigh over the arduous educational duties before him.

Then Bobby's grandfather brought out some curious knobby-looking bundles from his valise, and while the children shut their eyes, he hid the packages and then turned the children loose to find them. There was a great outfit of Kate Greenaway writing paper for Ethelwyn; a black doll-baby apiece for Beth and Nan; and a watch with a leather fob and jockey cap attachments for his namesake, Bobby. There were also a book and a game for each one. While they were playing with their gifts, Mrs. Rayburn and Bobby's grandfather talked apart, and it was a happy talk, as Ethelwyn and Beth could see when they came up to where they were sitting.

When at last it was time to say good-night, Ethelwyn and Beth had a surprise for Bobby's grandfather. It was four silver dollars. "Two of our dollars are gone to help take Joe's sister to the Home," Beth explained, "but this is for you on account of your losing the change money. It's from us all, instead of good-bye presents we were going to get for Nan and Bobby. They said they'd rather."

Bobby's grandfather hesitated just a little and was about to make a gesture of refusal, when, seeing their mother shake her head, he kissed the children's red cheeks and said, with a shake in his voice, "You dear children, I'll keep these and your letter, as long as I live, so as not to forget your faith in me."

Somehow, that night, after the children were all in bed, and the grown people were talking over the next day's journey, it seemed to Bobby's grandfather that he too would like to go along, and he said he could not for the life of him see why Bobby's mother should not go too, and also Nan's father and mother if they wished.

Well, it was short notice, but by telegraphing, telephoning and telling by mouth they arranged it; and the next morning quite an imposing party boarded the Eastbound Limited, and took possession of the drawing-room car, for Bobby's grandfather never did things on a niggardly plan.

He and Bobby's mother were seated on one side, and Nan's mother (her father could not leave) and Mrs. Rayburn were across from them, while Nan, Ethelwyn, Beth, and Bobby appeared and disappeared, like meteors, in the most unexpected places. Joe's sister was not well enough that day to accompany them, so it was arranged that her brother should bring her as soon as she felt better.

If I have, by the use of the word "grandfather," given you an idea of decrepitude and old age, in the case of Bobby's grandfather, I wish at once to change that idea.

He was a very erect and handsome man, with a white mustache indeed, but with a firm mouth underneath that gave no sign of diminished force.

He had always told Mrs. Rayburn that he thought it was very foolish for her to give such large sums of money for charity.

"It's not right," he now repeated, twirling his mustache. The morning paper lay across his knees, and, as he spoke, with an air of finality and disapproval, he picked it up.

"What isn't right, grandfather?" asked Bobby, suddenly appearing on the back of his chair, and encircling his grandfather's neck with a pair of sturdy legs.

His grandfather drew him down by one leg into his lap.

"Giving all your money away to people who don't appreciate it," he explained.

"How do you know they don't?" asked Bobby.

"Because, sir, people don't appreciate what is given to them, as much as they do what they earn."

Bobby pondered over this.

"I like my Christmas presents better than the money I get for chopping kindling," he replied at length; "because the Christmas money is more, for one thing."

"And more certain," put in his mother, laughing; "the kindling money isn't always earned."

"Are you talking about the Home money?" asked Ethelwyn, looking over the back of the chair in front of them.

"Yes."

"But we like to give it, and so will you, when you see how nice it is, and Dick and Aunty Stevens and the best cookies that she can make. What's the good of keeping money? We can always buy more down at your bank," she concluded easily.

"You may not always think so, young lady, nor take such wide views of things. When you grow up, you may wish you had more money," said the banker, laughing.

"Does keeping money make folks happy?" inquired Beth, suddenly popping up.

The lines in grandfather's face deepened, and there came over it a look of care.

"Not always, child, I must confess," he said at length.

"Besides, my father says not to lay up treasure for roth and must to corrupt!" put in Nan, coming to the surface. At this, they all shouted, much to Nan's discomfiture.

For awhile the banker looked out on the showery landscape, then he turned to the children's mother.

"Perhaps you are right, Mrs. Rayburn," he said gently. "The world is all too selfish;" and he sighed as he said it.

"It is indeed," came the emphatic answer. "There is no crime, there is no sin, that has not for its basis selfishness. It is the evil part of life, and the Christ life that ought to be man's pattern, is the type of unselfishness."

"Well," said the banker, taking up his paper, "I am open to conviction."

The sun was shining when they arrived at the pretty station, and they all stopped on the platform to listen a moment to the organ note of the sea. As they waited, a wagon drove up, and a young fellow jumped out and ran towards them.

"It's—it's—Dick! Dick who used to walk on crutches!" cried Ethelwyn, fairly rubbing her eyes in astonishment.

There were no signs of lameness now in this tall youth, and his face was radiant with happiness. He could not speak for a moment, as he shook hands with those whom he knew, and of whom he had almost constantly thought with heartfelt gratitude.

"My sakes! Aren't you mended up well, though?" said Beth, walking around him admiringly.

They all laughed at this, of course, and Dick was then introduced to Bobby's mother, his grandfather, and Bobby himself.

"Dick is the first patient of the Home," said Mrs. Rayburn, "and he does it credit. He is Mrs. Stevens's right-hand man now. Where and how is dear Mrs. Stevens?"

"She is well but could not leave to come to the train," said Dick. "She can hardly wait to see you, though."

"I do sincerely trust she has baked a bushel of cookies," said Ethelwyn, as they climbed into the wagon.

The approach to the Home was very beautiful. The sun was going down in a blaze of glory, and the wagon wound around the hill road to where the cottage, gay with flags and striped awnings, crowned its summit.

Then, above the roar of the sea and the clatter of hoofs, came the sound of children's voices calling from the broad piazza,

"Welcome home! Welcome home!"

Then a child's voice sang,

As Bobby's grandfather helped the grown people out of the wagon—the children had climbed down without waiting for help—he cleared his throat once or twice.

"I'm nearer conviction than I was," he said.

As she hurried towards the porch, Mrs. Rayburn smiled to herself.

Nan's mother waited, and walked up with Bobby's grandfather. Over her had come a great and happy change; her eyes were now full of earnest light, and she had forgotten her headaches and other small ills.

She now looked up into the banker's face.

"After all, life to be beautiful and to reach rightly towards eternity should be helpful, and self-forgetful; do you not think so?" she said. "I was long learning the two great commandments, which embody the whole decalogue, and I probably never should have learned them if it had not been for these blessed children, and their mother."

"H—m, h—m," said the banker.

On the porch were twenty children. In forty eyes the new light of happiness was dawning. At the beginning, many of them had been hopeless and even evil, but now it was all different, for they had found out that they could laugh.

Aunty Stevens herself, full of laughter and bubbling over with joy at seeing her friends again, surrounded by the shouting children, made them more than welcome.

Bobby's grandfather was armed with a huge box, which he had mysteriously guarded all day; he now set it down upon the porch.

"If you children don't make this box lighter at once, I shall have no use for you," he declared. And they all, scenting candy with infallible instinct, fell upon it with rapture.

They had tea on the lawn, that evening, and, after a consultation with Mrs. Stevens, Bobby's grandfather sent a message over the telephone that was followed very shortly by a man with ice cream and a huge cake. When eight o'clock came, one of the teachers began to play a march on the piano in the hall. At once the children fell into line, marking time with their feet, and singing,

As they sang, they marched away to bed. The others followed them in.

The boys' dormitories were in a building on one side of the lawn, and the girls' on the other, while the babies' nursery was in the main building.

The spirit of the Home was helpfulness, so each child aided some one else in getting ready for the night. When they were in their white night-gowns, they all dropped upon their knees, and one of the teachers said a short prayer after which they all joined with her in the Lord's Prayer.

When the guests came down into Aunty Stevens's sitting-room where the open fire was dancing—for the evening was a trifle chilly—Bobby's grandfather put a few questions to Mrs. Stevens.

"When the children are thievish and given to bad language and lying, what do you do?" he asked.

"In some way they seem to shed those things, as a worm does its cocoon, after they are here for a while," she answered. "In the light of loving care, the sunny child nature comes out—it cannot help it, any more than a rose can help blooming in the sun; and, with the other children who have been here from the first to regulate things, we do not have much trouble. They are too young to stay vicious, and when they go away they are well enough grounded in good habits not to forget them, we hope, and to go on helping others."

"Do you have to refuse many applicants?"

"Yes, that is one trouble. We ought to be able to take at least fifty children, and we need an infirmary; but those things will come in time."

Bobby's grandfather opened his mouth to speak, just as Bobby himself climbed into his lap with a question trembling on his lips.

"Well, sir?" inquired his grandfather.

"May I have some of the money you're going to leave me, to give now, just as Ethelwyn and Beth did?" asked Bobby.

"How do you know I'm going to leave you any, you young freebooter?"

"Well, I s'posed you would; most people would think so, 'cause I'm named for you, and you always said you liked me," remarked Bobby, somewhat embarrassed.

His grandfather patted him comfortingly on the back.

"Yes, Bobby, I do like you, and all the better for your request. We'll build the infirmary, and maybe more. I am open to conviction no more," he added, looking towards Mrs. Rayburn, "for I am convicted and I hope converted."

ADVERTISEMENTS

MOLLY BROWN SERIES
College Life Stories for Girls

By NELL SPEED.

Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 60c. per vol., postpaid

MOLLY BROWN'S FRESHMAN DAYS.


Would you like to admit to your circle of friends the most charming of
college girls—the typical college girl for whom we are always looking
but not always finding; the type that contains so many delightful
characteristics, yet without unpleasant perfection in any; the natural,
unaffected, sweet-tempered girl, loved because she is lovable? Then seek
an introduction to Molly Brown. You will find the baggage-master, the
cook, the Professor of English Literature, and the College President in
the same company.

MOLLY BROWN'S SOPHOMORE DAYS.

What is more delightful than a re-union of college girls after the
summer vacation? Certainly nothing that precedes it in their
experience—at least, if all class-mates are as happy together as the
Wellington girls of this story. Among Molly's interesting friends of the
second year is a young Japanese girl, who ingratiates her "humbly" self
into everybody's affections speedily and permanently.

MOLLY BROWN'S JUNIOR DAYS.

Financial stumbling blocks are not the only things that hinder the ease
and increase the strength of college girls. Their troubles and their
triumphs are their own, often peculiar to their environment. How
Wellington students meet the experiences outside the class-rooms is
worth the doing, the telling and the reading.

Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.

HURST & COMPANY Publishers NEW YORK

MOTOR MAIDS SERIES
Wholesome Stories of Adventure

By KATHERINE STOKES.

Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid


THE MOTOR MAIDS' SCHOOL DAYS.

Billie Campbell was just the type of a straightforward, athletic girl to
be successful as a practical Motor Maid. She took her car, as she did
her class-mates, to her heart, and many a grand good time did they have
all together. The road over which she ran her red machine had many an
unexpected turning,—now it led her into peculiar danger; now into
contact with strange travelers; and again into experiences by fire and
water. But, best of all, "The Comet" never failed its brave girl owner.

THE MOTOR MAIDS BY PALM AND PINE.

Wherever the Motor Maids went there were lively times, for these were
companionable girls who looked upon the world as a vastly interesting
place full of unique adventures—and so, of course, they found them.

THE MOTOR MAIDS ACROSS THE CONTINENT.

It is always interesting to travel, and it is wonderfully entertaining
to see old scenes through fresh eyes. It is that privilege, therefore,
that makes it worth while to join the Motor Maids in their first
'cross-country run.

THE MOTOR MAIDS BY ROSE, SHAMROCK AND HEATHER.

South and West had the Motor Maids motored, nor could their education by
travel have been more wisely begun. But now a speaking acquaintance with
their own country enriched their anticipation of an introduction to the
British Isles. How they made their polite American bow and how they were
received on the other side is a tale of interest and inspiration.

Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.

HURST & COMPANY Publishers NEW YORK

GIRL AVIATORS SERIES
Clean Aviation Stories

By MARGARET BURNHAM.

Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid

THE GIRL AVIATORS AND THE PHANTOM AIRSHIP.

Roy Prescott was fortunate in having a sister so clever and devoted to
him and his interests that they could share work and play with mutual
pleasure and to mutual advantage. This proved especially true in
relation to the manufacture and manipulation of their aeroplane, and
Peggy won well deserved fame for her skill and good sense as an aviator.
There were many stumbling-blocks in their terrestrial path, but they
soared above them all to ultimate success.

THE GIRL AVIATORS ON GOLDEN WINGS.

That there is a peculiar fascination about aviation that wins and holds
girl enthusiasts as well as boys is proved by this tale. On golden wings
the girl aviators rose for many an exciting flight, and met strange and
unexpected experiences.

THE GIRL AVIATORS' SKY CRUISE.

To most girls a coaching or yachting trip is an adventure. How much more
perilous an adventure a "sky cruise" might be is suggested by the title
and proved by the story itself.

THE GIRL AVIATORS' MOTOR BUTTERFLY.

The delicacy of flight suggested by the word "butterfly," the mechanical
power implied by "motor," the ability to control assured in the title
"aviator," all combined with the personality and enthusiasm of girls
themselves, make this story one for any girl or other reader "to go
crazy over."

Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.

HURST & COMPANY Publishers NEW YORK

DREADNOUGHT BOYS SERIES
Tales of the New Navy

By CAPT. WILBUR LAWTON
Author of "BOY AVIATORS SERIES."

Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid

THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS ON BATTLE PRACTICE.


Especially Interesting and timely is this book which introduces the
reader with its heroes, Ned and Herc, to the great ships of modern
warfare and to the intimate life and surprising adventures of Uncle
Sam's sailors.

THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS ABOARD A DESTROYER.

In this story real dangers threaten and the boys' patriotism is tested
in a peculiar international tangle. The scene is laid on the South
American coast.

THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS ON A SUBMARINE.

To the inventive genius—trade-school boy or mechanic—this story has
special charm, perhaps, but to every reader its mystery and clever
action are fascinating.

THE DREADNOUGHT BOYS ON AERO SERVICE.

Among the volunteers accepted for Aero Service are Ned and Herc. Their
perilous adventures are not confined to the air, however, although they
make daring and notable flights in the name of the Government; nor are
they always able to fly beyond the reach of their old "enemies," who are
also airmen.

Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.

HURST & COMPANY Publisher NEW YORK

MOTOR RANGERS SERIES
HIGH SPEED MOTOR STORIES

By MARVIN WEST.

Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid


THE MOTOR RANGERS' LOST MINE.

This is an absorbing story of the continuous adventures of a motor car
in the hands of Nat Trevor and his friends. It does seemingly impossible
"stunts," and yet everything happens "in the nick of time."

THE MOTOR RANGERS THROUGH THE SIERRAS.

Enemies in ambush, the peril of fire, and the guarding of treasure make
exciting times for the Motor Rangers—yet there is a strong flavor of
fun and freedom, with a typical Western mountaineer for spice.

THE MOTOR RANGERS ON BLUE WATER; or,
The Secret of the Derelict.

The strange adventures of the sturdy craft "Nomad" and the stranger
experiences of the Rangers themselves with Morello's schooner and a
mysterious derelict form the basic of this well-spun yarn of the sea.

THE MOTOR RANGERS' CLOUD CRUISER.

From the "Nomad" to the "Discoverer," from the sea to the sky, the scene
changes in which the Motor Rangers figure. They have experiences "that
never were on land or sea," in heat and cold and storm, over mountain
peak and lost city, with savages and reptiles; their ship of the air is
attacked by huge birds of the air; they survive explosion and
earthquake; they even live to tell the tale!

Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.

HURST & COMPANY Publishers NEW YORK

BUNGALOW BOYS SERIES
LIVE STORIES OF OUTDOOR LIFE

By DEXTER J. FORRESTER.

Cloth Bound. Illustrated. Price, 50c. per vol., postpaid


THE BUNGALOW BOYS.

How the Bungalow Boys received their title and how they retained the
right to it in spite of much opposition makes a lively narrative for
lively boys.

THE BUNGALOW BOYS MAROONED IN THE TROPICS.

A real treasure hunt of the most thrilling kind, with a sunken Spanish
galleon as its object, makes a subject of intense interest at any time,
but add to that a band of desperate men, a dark plot and a devil fish,
and you have the combination that brings strange adventures into the
lives of the Bungalow Boys.

THE BUNGALOW BOYS IN THE GREAT NORTH WEST.

The clever assistance of a young detective saves the boys from the
clutches of Chinese smugglers, of whose nefarious trade they know too
much. How the Professor's invention relieves a critical situation is
also an exciting incident of this book.

THE BUNGALOW BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES.

The Bungalow Boys start out for a quiet cruise on the Great Lakes and a
visit to an island. A storm and a band of wreckers interfere with the
serenity of their trip, and a submarine adds zest and adventure to it.

Any volume sent postpaid upon receipt of price.

HURST & COMPANY Publishers NEW YORK

Works of J.T. Trowbridge

Here is an author who is famous—whose writings delight both boys and
girls. Enthusiasm abounds on every page and interest never grows old. A
few of the best titles are given:

COUPON BONDS.
CUDJO'S CAVE.
THE DRUMMER BOY.
MARTIN MERRYVALE, HIS X MARK.
FATHER BRIGHT HOPES.
LUCY ARLYN.
NEIGHBOR JACKWOOD.
THE THREE SCOUTS.

Price, postage paid, for any of the above books, Fifty Cents.

Have You Seen Our Complete Catalogue?
Send For It

HURST & CO. Publishers NEW YORK

BOOKS BY
Charles Carleton Coffin


Author of
"Boys of '76"
"Boys of '61"

Charles Carleton Coffin's specialty is books pertaining to the War. His
celebrated writings with reference to the Great Rebellion have been read
by thousands. We have popularized him by publishing his best works at
reduced prices.

Following the Flag. Charles Carleton Coffin
My Days and Nights on the Battlefield. Charles Carleton Coffin
Winning His Way. Charles Carleton Coffin
Six Nights in a Block House. Henry C. Watson

Be sure to get one of each. Price, postpaid, Fifty Cents.

Obtain our latest complete catalogue.

HURST & CO., Publishers, NEW YORK

BIOGRAPHICAL LIBRARY
Of the Lives of Great Men

A limited line comprising subjects pertaining to the careers of men who
have helped to mould the world's history. A library is incomplete
without the entire set.

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, LIFE OF—American Statesman and Discoverer of
Electricity.

CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS, LIFE OF—Discoverer of America.

DANIEL BOONE, LIFE OF—Famous Kentucky Explorer and Scout.

DANIEL WEBSTER, LIFE OF—American Statesman and Diplomat.

DISTINGUISHED AMERICAN ORATORS—Who Have Helped to Mould American
Events.

EMINENT AMERICANS—Makers of United States History.

JOHN GUTENBERG, LIFE OF—Inventor of Printing.

NAPOLEON AND HIS MARSHALS—Celebrated French General and Commander.

ORATORS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION—Whose Speeches Ring With Patriotism.

PAUL JONES, LIFE OF—American Naval Hero.

PATRICK HENRY, LIFE OF—Distinguished American Orator and Patriot.

PHILIP H. SHERIDAN, LIFE OF—"Little Phil"; Famous Union General During
the Civil War.

WASHINGTON AND HIS GENERALS—First President of the United States,
Revolutionary Army General and Statesman.

Any book mailed, postage paid, upon receipt of 50c.

Send for Our Complete Book Catalogue.

HURST & CO. Publishers, NEW YORK

Oliver Optic Books

Few boys are alive to-day who have not read some of the writings of this
famous author, whose books are scattered broadcast and eagerly sought
for. Oliver Optic has the faculty of writing books full of dash and
energy, such as healthy boys want and need.

ALL ABOARD; or, Life on the Lake.
BOAT CLUB; or, The Bunkers of Rippleton.
BRAVE OLD SALT; or, Life on the Quarter Deck.
DO SOMETHINGS; a Story for Little Folks.
FIGHTING JOE; or, The Fortunes of a Staff Officer.
IN SCHOOL AND OUT; or, The Conquest of Richard Grant.
LITTLE BY LITTLE; or, The Cruise of the Flyaway.
LITTLE MERCHANT; a Story for Little Folks.
NOW OR NEVER: or, The Adventures of Bobby Bright.
POOR AND PROUD; or, The Fortunes of Katie Redburn.
PROUD AND LAZY; a Story for Little Folks.
RICH AND HUMBLE; or, The Mission of Bertha Grant.
SAILOR BOY: or, Jack Somers in the Navy.
SOLDIER BOY; or, Tom Somers in the Army.
TRY AGAIN; or, The Trials and Triumphs of Harry West.
WATCH AND WAIT; or, The Young Fugitives.
WORK AND WIN; or, Noddy Newman on a Cruise.
THE YANKEE MIDDY; or, The Adventures of a Naval Officer.
YOUNG LIEUTENANT; or, The Adventures of an Army Officer.

Any of these books will be mailed, postpaid, upon receipt of 50c.

Get our complete catalogue—sent anywhere.

HURST & CO., Publishers, NEW YORK