A FATHER'S LETTER 7 



not record its poets and historians, its novelists, essayists and philoso- 

 phers. But what would the unreasonable reader of this Magazine 

 require? Is he so poor a Staten Islander that he cannot wait? 

 Waiting is the characteristic virtue of this enchanted realm. It has 

 been waiting always and it is at last seeing the faithful promise ful- 

 filled, that all things come to those who wait — if only they wait long 

 enough. What is the purpose of this Magazine but to reveal the 

 literature of Staten Island? It will not be its fault if modest worth 

 is not at last recognized and appreciated. Let the doubter survey the 

 list of contributors to the opening number. Nay, Oliife the dreamer 

 may well wind his conch shell for another voyage, and steering 

 southward and landing at St. George, he will have performed as mar- 

 vellous a vo3'age of discovery as Hendrik Hudson's, for, unless all 

 veracity has fallen out of common rumor, and unless the names of 

 famous authors deceive and betray, he will find that the stream which 

 irrigates the Arcadia of Jersey street is a rill from Helicon and that 

 Fort Hill is a veritable Parnassus. 



A FATHER'S LETTER. 



BY BILL NYE. 



Y DEAR SON — Your letter of last week, found your mother and 

 me fairly well, though I can see that I ain't the same man I used 

 to be by any means. Every Spring I have trouble with my lungs. One 

 of my lungs is entirely gone and the other one is hepatized, so the 

 doctor tells me. I've tried most everything in the way of medicine 

 for to renew my lungs, but they get worse and worse all the time. 

 But still I eat a good, hearty meal of victuals. You refer, casually, in 

 your letter, to a misspelled word in my last communication. You 

 speak of grammar also in a reproachable way, which is annoying to 

 a man like me. I am not great on the spell, I admit, Henry, for when 

 I ought to been learning for to spell at the spelling schools and or- 

 thographical retorts of our section of country, I was licking the smart 

 Alecks from town that seemed to be smarter than their parents. 

 No, Henry, I never got a meddle for spelling long hard words with 



