LITERARY 
The only thing that can pretend to a comparison 
with these magazines is the newspaper form of litera- 
ture. But the newspaper in its form is literally ephem- 
eral. It is incapable of being made into a book, or 
preserved even from month to month ; and if it could 
be, who would wish to see it, among the beauties of 
modern books ? 
On the contrary. Magazines, when bound at an 
expense of 75 cents to $1.00 a volume, in the rich, 
uniform library covers furnished by the publishers, 
take their places among the gems of the parlor table, 
yielding entertainment and instruction for every age 
and taste, for moments, for hours, or for days, at will. 
Truly, we may ask, what is like unto them? 
There is, of course, a lower depth of cheapness, and 
that is the weekly Story Paper. 
But the tendency of the lowest ephemeral cheap- 
ness is to run into nastiness ; “ all filth is absolute 
poison.” As they have the cheapest of paper, print- 
ing and engraving, so they have the cheapest writing 
and editing; and, as everybody knows, cheap writ- 
ing never sells unless it is bad. The ^‘pen-poison” 
distilled from the brains of vulgar story-writers — 
known only on the pages of story papers by their 
slang pseudonyms — is the only salable stuff to be had 
for its price, and it floods the channels of popular 
newspaper sales, corrupting the hearts and inflaming 
the imaginations of youth with moral poison. Let all 
beware of it, and especially all who are responsible for 
the moral nurture of children. 
Scribner and St. Nicholas are cosmopolitan in 
scope, and in circulation too — teaching the European 
public the notable facts and scenery of its own times, 
as well as of ours — they are, above all others, Ameri- 
can in tone and topics. They have done more, prob- 
ably, than any other agency in the same period of time, 
to acquaint the world and America itself, with Ame- 
rica’s own greatness and beauty. 
Miss Louisa M. Alcott must have found in St. 
Nicholas a congenial and advantageous means of 
reaching the little folk, for though her serial is now 
completed, it is announced that several short stories 
from her pen are to appear in that magazine during the 
coming year. The news will of course cause a flutter 
of joy among the St. Nicholas readers, and, probably, 
among her devoted admirers everywhere. 
“THE CHICAGO INTER-OCEAN” 
Thus dilates upon ^’•St. Nicholas: ” “.If there is one thing 
we do envy the youngsters in, it is ‘St. Nicholas;’ in 
fact we do believe that the grown-up boys are even 
more interested in this juvenile pictorial wonder than 
the young ones. Who knows but old Faustus, turn- 
ing over the leaves and pointing out the beauties to 
his youngest grandchild, finds in ‘St. Nicholas ’ a spe- 
cies of harmless Mephistopheles ready to chase the 
wrinkles from his brow, the shadows from his cheek, 
the eclipse that dims his eye, the snow that fills his 
hair ? ‘ St. Nicholas ’ is now an institution of which 
Young and Old America are as proud as England is of 
Punch; it has become a perfect triumph in the way of 
juvenile literature. Between its first and second 
volumes there is not a hair to choose ; both are in 
their way unique and perfect. A house without ‘ St. 
Nicholas ’ does not deserve to own any boys and 
girls ; no dog should wag its little tail while pressing 
its nose through the area railings ; emphatically, we 
would observe that should the sun condescend to shine 
upon that house his solar majesty would make a big 
mistake.” 
NOTES. 
A QUESTION OF VERACITY. 
Two versions of Gabriel Conroy’s courtship of the 
redoubtable Mrs. Markle are given in Scribner for 
December. One is Bret Harte’s account of the actual 
occurrence ; the other is Bret Harte’s report of Gabriel 
Conroy’s account of it. The question immediately 
arises, which is the true story ? 
GRANDMA MAKES FURTHER SEARCH. 
ANOTHER YACHT-RACE. 
Another yacht-race is announced to take place soon 
and under rather peculiar conditions. Instead of the 
yachts racing for a buoy, this is a contest in which the 
boys will race for a yacht. It seems, in short, that St. 
Nicholas, always wonderfully clever at anticipating 
as well as satisfying the youngsters, has now promised, 
as a prize for the best solution of one of its puzzles, a 
beautiful, full-rigged, miniature schooner-yacht, four feet 
long ! This is a race, therefore that will interest not only 
the boys who live by the sea, but every lad that lives 
within a mile of a brook or a duck-pond. Nor is this 
all, for the puzzle itself will include a picture of an- 
other yacht-race, even more novel still. It is promised 
for the December number, and the prize will be 
awarded in time for the opening of navigation in the 
spring. Now, boys ! Ho, for the races ! 
A new sensation in the world of children’s literature 
may soon be expected. St. Nicholas promises 
rhymes and jingles from a fresh writer, whose songs 
are to make Young America laugh as it never has 
laughed before. 
SCRIBNER AND THE COLLEGES. 
Did you ever advertise for a boy ? If so, you know 
how people feel in a besieged city. You come down 
to your office in the morning, and find the street 
around your door blocked up with boys, — boys on the 
steps, boys on the sidewalks, boys on the railings, boys 
up the trees, boys everywhere. If you get into your 
door alone, it is a miracle. Half a dozen will probably 
slip in after you, and if you are not very careful they 
will leak in and drip down upon you from windows, 
chimney, and transom. You want one boy, but you 
have no use for a thousand. Poor bewildered mortal, 
what are you to do ? You let them in one at a time ; 
you try to be just; in despair you take one of them, 
but there is no particular reason why you should take 
him. The rest know that, and you know they know it. 
You feel ashamed, and nine hundred and ninety-nine 
boys feel aggrieved. One boy goes home whistling. 
Something of this kind recently happened in regard 
to Scribner’s Monthly. It was not about boys, but 
