262 
AMERIOAl:^ AGEIOULTUEIST. 
[JuiTE, 
will run off with the spoon. But I will pay for a 
plate of cream for yourself if you like it and have 
had none.”—“I don’t want it for myself,” said 
Edith, almost crying, “ and I think you are very 
heart-hearted, Florie,” at which Flora turned on 
her heel with her head higher in the air than ever. 
“Hey-day, what is all this?” asked a hearty 
voice close by, and the little flower-girl looked up 
to see her uncle standing beside her.—“ Oh ! Uncle 
John, is that jmu ? I am so glad you have come 1” 
—“ That’s pleasant news !” but what can I do for 
you? You don’t look as happy as I expected.”— 
“I w^ant some strawberries and cream,” said Edith 
shyly, shaking her curls over her face.—“ Is that 
ail ? Here, Flora, give us a saucer of your best 
French cream, and pile it up well with straw¬ 
berries, mind!” while Edith’s eye twinkled with 
mischief as her sister, with a large spoon, ladled 
out the cream from a huge freezer behind the 
table. But Uncle John gazed in amazement when, 
just as he expected his little niece to pop a big red 
berry she was sugaring, into her own rosy mouth, 
she suddenly seized the dish and vanished through 
the door-w'ay, flinging back a merry laugh and 
roguish glance at him over her shoulder. 
Poor little Giovanni, the organ-grinder, was quite 
as miserable as he looked; for he had been lured 
away from his parents and home in sunny Italy, 
and brought to a strange land by a harsh task¬ 
master, who sent him wandering over the country 
with Chico, his little monkey and only friend, to 
earn the few pennies that charitable people were wil¬ 
ling to pay him. So it was like a glimpse into fairy¬ 
land this warm summer evening, when with Chico 
buttoned up inside his jacket, he wandered near the 
brilliantly lighted school-house and peeped through 
the window at the gay scene.—“ Ze flowers look 
like my own country, and ze people zey are all 
so happy.” And a tear rolled softly down the 
dusky cheek. But there is a flutter of a white dress 
near by, and a soft voice says : “ Poor boy ! see, I 
have brought you some strawberries and cream.” 
With a start the little Italian turns and meets a 
pair of pitying grey eyes gazing into his, while two 
chubby hands push the plate into his, as the girl 
says : “ There, eat it quick before it melts.”—“Oh, 
mees, tank you, tank you,” he stammers, while a 
brown paw darts from beneath his coat and seizes 
a berry. “ Chico and I tanks you a tousand times.” 
—“ I hope they will taste good,” and the little 
maid, like a benevolent fairy, slips away. 
“But what have you got there, my Chico?” he 
suddenly asked in Italian, as the monkey after a 
spoonful of cream took something from his mouth. 
“There are no stones in these berries.”—But what¬ 
ever it was, the monkey’s brown paw closed tight¬ 
ly over it, and he only chattered as he deposited it 
in the little bag tied about his waist and in which 
he carried his pennies, and thinking no more of the 
matter, Giovianni carried his plate and spoon to 
the door, and lingered for a moment to catch a 
glimpse of the pretty little lady with the bonny 
brown curls. But Edith was not to be seen, for on 
her returning to the hall, after treating her young 
protege, she ^Yas met by Flora with a frightened 
face, who drew her into a corner crying. “ Oh ! 
Edith, what shall I do ! The diamond is gone from 
Cousin Emily’s ring.”—“Flora!” It was all Edith 
could say, and she stood aghast as her sister held 
up the golden hoop with its disfiguring cavity.—“ I 
am afraid to go home,” sobbed the frightened 
girl, “and it has been the most miserable day I 
ever spent. I have quarreled with Nellie, almost 
told a falsehood, and now don’t dare to look Cousin 
Emily in the face, and all on account of this stupid 
ring, which I wish I had never seen.”—“Don’t 
C17,” said Edith, and we will have a search for 
it,” and she did hunt carefully under the tables 
and benches, but all in vain, and it was a very sor¬ 
rowful pair of sisters that wended their way home¬ 
ward with Uncle John. So sad indeed was Edith, 
that she did not see two dark eyes peering at her 
from behind a tree, though an unobserved listener 
heard her say: “ Oh ! dear, I don’t think I shall 
ever be happy until the diamond is found.” 
It was a long, dreary night to both girls, but 
Flora tossed and turned restlessly, until the morn¬ 
ing light creeped through the shutters, when she 
fell into a troubled sleep. So it was a very white 
face she brought to the breakfast table, and Edith’s 
was hardly less anxious.—“ I shan’t approve of 
festivals if they rob you of your roses in this way,” 
said Mr. Raymond, observing the pale cheeks, but 
at that moment a maid entered to say ; “ A wild¬ 
looking boy was in the kitchen, who begged to see 
the lady with brown curls.” Wouderingly Edith 
obeyed the summons, and in a few moments re¬ 
turned radiant, dragging the little Italian after her 
and crying joyfully: “ Oh ! Flora it is found ! The 
dear little monkey found it and this good boy 
brought it back quite safe.”—And in amazement all 
listened to Giovanni’s story, told in broken English. 
“ I laugh when I find it,” said Giovanni, show¬ 
ing his white teeth. “ And I tinke now I sell this 
for much moneys, and Chico and I go home to 
Italy. But zen I remember ze words of ze young 
lady, who was so heavenly kind to us, ‘ I never be 
happy till ze diamond is found ! ’ So I can’t make 
her sad, and I comes right avay it is day.”—“It 
was a fortunate thing for you. Flora, that it fell 
into such honest hands,” said Mrs. Raymond, with 
a reproachful look towards her oldest daughter j 
“ for had some of our rough village boys found it, 
I fear we never should have seen it again,” while 
Edith whispered exultingly ; “ You see he is not a 
thief after all.”—Flora blushed but made no re¬ 
ply, and busied herself in pi-eparing a bountiful 
breakfast for Chico and his young master, who 
were soon revelling in unaccustomed luxuries. 
And that was not the end, for Mr. Raymond and 
Uncle John interested themselves in the young 
lad, succeeded in freeing him from his cruel master 
or Padrone; and a month later the whole family 
went to bid him farewell on the deck of a noble 
steamer, bound for the land of flowers and macca- 
roni. Clad in a neat suit and with his sparkling 
face turned toward home, he looked like a different 
being from the ragged little waif, who had mourn¬ 
fully ground away at his organ on the street corner; 
and with hearts and lips overflowing, he bade his 
benefactors “good-bye,” but his last glance and 
the last wave of Chico’s paw was for the sweet 
little girl, who on that summer evening had come 
to him like a good fairy, bearing to him a “ mine 
of wealth,” buried in strawberries and cream. 
An Illustrated Rebus,—T he High Hat.— 
Make words of the seven pictures on the hat, and 
place as shown in the small diagram. The words 
when placed wid form the shape of a high hat. 
No. 5 is made with more than one word. Nos. 6 
and 7 are to be read down. 
Chakade. —Read as a rebus and the first, second, 
and whole word will be found as in printed cha¬ 
rades. The answer is an article used in mid-summer. 
The Doctor’s Talks. 
I suppose that all of the little army who com¬ 
peted for the Weed List Prizes are desirous of 
hearing more about them. To make a connected 
story, I must go back to September of last year. 
In that number, on page 419, under the heading 
“now MAET W’EEDS HO YOU KNOW?” 
I asked for lists of the common names “ of all 
you could get names for during this month and 
next.” I said ; “Please observe, what I want is, 
the names common in your localities, of the weeds 
of your place, whether on the farm or growing on 
the roadsides,” but unfortunately failed to say 
what plants should be regarded as weeds. “ What 
is a weed ? ” has long been a question. One of the 
best definitions, given many years ago, is: “A 
plant out of place.” Another is: “Every plant 
that gi'ows in a field, other than that of which the 
husbandman sowed the seed, is a w’eed.” Still 
another is : “A plant which interferes with the 
cultivation of other plants.” None of these defi¬ 
nitions meet all cases, but all indicate that plants 
in the way of cultivated plants are weeds. 
A PLANT MAT BE A WEED OE NOT. 
It is not its kind or character that makes a plant 
a weed. Parsnip, carrot and horseradish, aie exam¬ 
ples. We know how useful all three are in culti¬ 
vation, yet when allovved to grow wild, they are 
among our worst weeds. One of the girls was told 
by her father that “any plant not cultivated is a 
weed,” and other competitors appear to have 
acted upon that definition, as many lists contain 
numerous plants not known to grow in cultivated 
grounds. It does not seem fair to class the white 
and yellovv water lilies as weeds, or to place oaks, 
magnolias, maples, and other forest trees in this 
class. Finding that most of the lists contained the 
names of plants never found in cultivated gTOunds, 
but are merely wild plants, before any fair com¬ 
parison could be made, all plants never known as 
weeds were stricken from the various lists. This 
required a careful scrutiny of every list, and con¬ 
sumed a great deal of time. 
THE WHOLE NCMBEE OE LISTS 
was five hundred and eighteen, and a formidable 
heap they made. The letters were numbered and 
marked with the date on which they were received. 
A record was then made, giving number of letter, 
name of writer, Post-oflflee, State, number of plants, 
plants, not weeds, and real weeds, with remarks. 
The lowest number given in any list is ten ; there 
is one of thirteen, and two of fourteen, and quite a 
number below twenty. The largest list. Miss Pe- 
poon’s, of Illinois, has two hundred and eighty 
names, but as seventy-four of these are not properly 
weeds, the number of real weeds is not so great as 
in one other, though a most excellent, carefully- 
made list. Between the above extremes, the largest 
number of the lists were those recording between 
sixty and one hundred names. I offered five prizes 
in books, and have extended the number to nine. 
The names of these, who will receive their books 
long before they see this, are given with all needed 
information in the table below : 
Name. 
Maggie E. Berton, 
Mamie Pepoon, 
*James F. ason, 
tAnnie Pi(;kets, 
iLucy Peck. 
Frank J. Clough, 
Marie L. Hoyt, 
William Savage, 
SWilliam Pickardt, 
II Elijah Harlan, 
Livingston, Mo., 
Warren, Ill., 
Bellaire, Ohio, 
Gihson, Ill., 
Newtown, Conn., 
Tolland, Conn., 
Turnpike, N. C., 
Vega, Iowa, 
Portchester, N.T., 
Wilsonville, Iowa, 
. . 
C-S 
•53 
250 
25 
225 
2R0 
74 
206 
210 
34 
176 
189 
15 
174 
204 
39 
165 
212 
48 
164 
157 
00 
157 
152 
00 
152 
1B2 
12 
150 
149 
2 
147 
ONE MOKE WOED ABOUT WEED LISTS. 
Having a use for the common names for the 
weeds of the country, I offered prizes for the best 
lists. My success has been very far beyond my ex- 
•Eemarkahly good for a hoy of thirteen. 
tJennie Miles, Eliza and Eva Upp, and Annie Pickets for¬ 
warded their lists in the same envelope. Miss Pickets’ list 
is the only one long enough to secure an award. 
^Exceptionally well written. 
51 can not allow “ old boys ’’—you claim to be thirty-two— 
to compete with our boys and girls. Still I thank you for 
your most excellent and instructive list. 
IKemarkably good. 
