1876 .] 
AMERICAN AGrRIC ULTURIST. 
27 
were discovered, and then stood panting, breathless, tri¬ 
umphant, with his hair full of hay-seed, and his head 
covered with cob-webs. 
But days of frolic have an end, and friends, however 
dear, can not stay together forever. In the fall Mr. and 
Mrs. West moved to the city for the winter, and General 
and Annie were left behind in charge of Horace and Bob 
White, who lived near by. After his cousins had gone, 
Horace went to find and take home their pets. General 
came bounding at his call, but Annie was nowhere to be 
seen. After a long and vain search Horace was forced to 
go home without her. For several days he looked for 
the little cat without avail. General, too, only came to 
his new home at meal-times. At last Horace resolved to 
follow the dog one day, as he was making off after eating 
his dinner; so he went after him, up to Maple Hill, past 
the house, to a deserted tool-shop near the quarry, and 
there, on a work-bench, sat Annie, whom her good friend 
would not desert in her loneliness. Horace took Annie 
home with him, and together she and General lived con¬ 
tentedly, until they joyfully welcomed back their young 
playmates, when they returned to the country in spring. 
Aunt Sue’s Puzzle-Box. 
DOUBLE ACROSTIC. 
The initials form a county in Tennessee, and the finals 
name a river in Russia. 
1. A county in Vermont, 2. A county in California. 3. 
Acounty in Ohio. 4. A county in New York. 5. A county 
in Michigan. 6. A county in Mississippi. 
Willy Burt. 
charade. 
Without my first this beauteous earth 
Would be a desert wild; 
And kings their empty honors scan 
When from them ’tis beguiled. 
My second is an ornament, 
By men and women worn, 
A weapon or a harmless toy. 
Perhaps you’ve seen it drawn. 
A pleasing sight I think you’ll own 
My whole it is to see : 
The emblem of a promise rare, 
Through ages yet to be. Giles Farmin. 
CONCEALED VEGETABLES. 
1. Father, is Tom at Ophelia’s ? 2. Yes, he has gone 
to take her a dish of apples. 3. I want you to leave this 
flower-pot at Osgood’s. 4. Let that be, and hurry off. 
5. Here, Amos, pin a check on this parcel. 6. We had 
better go on, I only have an hour to walk. B. A. 
RHYMING ANSWERS. 
See what a glittering show, 
List to my musical flow. 
In our inmost hearts often they glow, 
Sharp as a skin-piercing thorn. 
Where the whale tloathed I’m borne. 
Holding my treasure of corn, 
Ah ! it is tender, my boys, 
Hark to ttie horrible noise, 
Virtue and peace it destroys. T. Aylor, 
cross WORD. 
My first is in rafter but not in beam, 
My next is m slumber but not in dream, 
My third is in elbow but not in arm, 
My fourth is in terror but not in alarm, 
My fifth is in wisdom but not in sense, 
My sixth is in dollars but not in pence, 
My seventh is in dahlia but not in a rose, 
My whole is a place where the orange grows. 
TRANSPOSITION. 
When bruised I represent the weak 
In whom we little comfort seek, 
Transposed, a creature much more fleet 
Than many others that we meet. Henry. 
NUMERICAL ENIGMA. 
I am composed of 13 letters: 
My 1, 2, 7, 4, 5, is a part of the body. 
My 9, 3, 8, is a boy’s nickname. 
My 10, 13,12, is a way of sewing. 
My 11, 6, is an exclamation. 
My whole was a messenger, cheery and bright. 
>Vhose coming we once hailed with joy and delight. 
Rose-bud. 
pi. 
Hatt ruetan viges ehr hidandma, tar, 
Het shemet fo tewes croudingsis ; 
Het l-ednet sidly fo het earth 
Ni veery guntoe sherearing. Tom, 
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE NOVEMBER NUMBER. 
Numerical Enigma.— James Fisk, Jr. . 
Cr.oss Word.—J ackdaw. 
Decapitation.— Trice, rice, ice. 
Anagrams.—1 . Lamartine. 2. Martin Luther. 3. Schiller. 
4. La Fontaine. 
Puzzle —Commence in the center and read around “Jac 
ot all trades and master of none." 
Double Acrostic.—P— u —p 
O— chr —A 
P—owderhor—N 
P— atho — S 
Y— earl —Y 
Equivocal Words.— 1. Beetle. 2. Bill. 3. Bit. 4. Blade. 
5. Blow. G. Air. 
Drop-letter Puzzle.— Time and tide wait for no man. 
Square Word.—P AST 
ACHE 
SHUN 
TENT 
Transpositions.—!. Meat, tame, mate, team. 2. Dame, 
made, mead. 3. Fete, feet, 4. Mope, poem. 5. Dear, dare, 
read. 
Hidden Southern Cities.—1. P.aleigh. 2. St. Antonio. 
J. Tallahassee. 4, Pensacola. 5. Jackson. 6, Austin. 
Pi.—We share our mutual woes. 
Our mutual burdens bear 
And often tor each other flow9 
The sympathizing tear. 
Diamond Puzzle.— A 
T U. B 
HAGUE 
AUGUSTA 
BUSTS 
ATE 
A 
Thanks for letters, puzzles, etc., to Carl, Ben. A. D. E„ F. 
W. W., Snip, Gussie S., Addie, Geo. W. T., G. Mason, Kitty, 
and Isola. 
Send communications intended for Aunt Sue, to Box 111, 
P. 0., Brooklyn, N. Y., and not to 245 Broadway. 
■- — «— - 
Aunt Sue’s Chats. 
To Correspondents. —Lest any should deem me 
guilty of discourtesy in not answering inquiries, I wish 
to explain that six weeks must elapse, under the most 
favorable circumstances, before my reply could be pub¬ 
lished. And if then, for any reason, the notice cannot 
appear in print, another mouth must elapse. So when 
you say “ please answer in the next number ”—please 
understand it is not possible. 
Linnie.— I will give you the “ instructions for spattcr- 
xoork" soon. 
W. H. W.—If your puzzle was sent simply for our 
amusement, we are much obliged. If for publication, we 
are just as much obliged, although we do not want to 
give our readers any but original puzzles. 
Eitie.—No, dear, “ rosewood ” does not come from 
any “rose-tree.” I think the chief reason for calling it 
rosewood is, because when the wood is first cut it emits 
a strong, rose-like fragrance. There are several kinds of 
rosewood trees, which are found in South America and 
the East Indies, and neighboring islands. The trees are 
sometimes so large that planks ten feet long by four feet 
in width may be cut from them. The wood is so valu¬ 
able that in some of the forests where it once grew 
abundantly, scarcely a specimen of it is left. The Madras 
Government has the good sense to keep setting out 
plantations of it. 
A young gentleman, writing to me from Aultsville, 
Ont., says:—“Dear Aunt Sue—Would you be kind 
enough to explain in your ‘Chats’ how to make a kite. 
I built one, and I could not get it to fly at all; so I con¬ 
cluded to ask you. It would rise all right, and then turn 
over and fall on its head. I tried several times to fix it, 
but could not make it fly. So if you will answer this, 
you would do me a great favor. Yours truly J. H. C.” 
I like this boy’s evidence of faith in his Auntie ; it isn’t 
every lad who would think that a woman knew anything 
about kites; but I happen to have made kites, and have 
been out with the children to fly them ; and mine would 
“ turn over and fall on their heads,” until experience 
taught me how to remedy such eccentricities. The great 
principles of kite-making are, first, lightness; second, 
well-balancing; and third, the proper angle of ascension. 
If the strings were properly adjusted to which you at¬ 
tached the hall of twine, then the trouble was probably 
Fig. 3. KITE FINISHED. Fig. 4. 
in the tail; perhaps it was not heavy enough; or if heavy 
enough, it might have been too short. You do not say 
what shape you made your kite ; was it the old-fashioned 
pear-shape ? The most satisfactory kite to fly, in my 
opinion, is one the shape of fig. 1. I never have any 
difficulty with one of that kind. I don’t suppose I need 
describe their plan of construction, hut perhaps it may 
help some of the boys who are not posted. Take two 
sticks of light wood, say ten inches long, and one seven 
or eight inches, and fasten them together, as in fig. 2, by 
winding strong thread around them where they come in 
contact. Now pass strong thread or fine twine around 
the ends of the sticks, as in fig. 3. Fasten the ends tight¬ 
ly. When this frame is completed, lay it on a thin, but 
strong paper (paper -muslin is the best) and cut the paper 
the shape of the frame, allowing about half an inch all 
round to paste over the twine, (if you can’t get paste, you 
might baste it round with needle and thread). Now you 
have your kite made as far as fig. 1, and the important 
operation of fastening on the strings commences. I make 
a loop, from the top of the 
two upper sticks, that hangs 
down nearly to where the 
three sticks are fastened to¬ 
gether ; and a loop from the 
two lower ends that reaches 
nearly up to the other loop 
(as in fig. 4); also a pendent 
loop (as in fig. 4), on which 
to fasten the tail. Now take 
the end of your hall of 
string, and pass it through 
the two (upper) loops, 
fastening them together, 
hut not closely, ns seen in 
the side view, fig. 5. This 
plan gives the string plenty 
of play, which is desirable. 
Now fasten on to the pendent loop a good long, narrow 
tail, and if your kite is light enough, I do not think you 
will have any difficulty in raising it and keeping it steady. 
We have received another cat story from our friend in 
Wisconsin. It is not quite so interesting as the last, but 
as it shows how persevering good-nature will at length 
overcome moroseness, even in a cat, we will publish it. 
We have an old cat by the name of Nig; he has long 
been our only pet, and he feels his rights to be many, and 
does not like to have them infringed on. Baby likes Nig 
and longs to fondle him, but Nig does not like to have 
baby rub his hair the wrong way and poke her fingers in 
his eyes, or tug him around under one arm ; so we pro¬ 
cured a little kitten to please baby, and named him Ned. 
Ned is a lively little fellow, and he no sooner saw Nig 
than he proposed a frolic, but sober old Nig declined the 
offer with great dignity. Ned was not to be discouraged, 
so at every opportunity he was busy plaguing Nig, jump¬ 
ing on his back, putting both paws around his neck and 
biting him, playing with his tail, and cutting up many 
other pranks, until at last he wore his way through Nig’s 
dignity, and now they have the greatest of frolics. Nig 
is very careful not to hurt Ned. One evening, during 
their rough and-tumble hour, Ned hid under a chair, and 
prepared to spring out upon Nig, Nig very leisurely 
walked up to Ned, cuffed him on the side of his head, as 
much as to say, “ No more nonsense to-night,” then went 
off and lay down. Ned played by himself for a long time 
before he went to bed, but did not ofi'er to touch Nig 
again. I thought that was good government, and an 
obedient kitten. It would be pleasant if all children 
would obey their parents as promptly. I would add that 
Nig has got so he will sometimes bring game to Ned. 
——- — ■ >! — - 
The Doctor’s Talks—About Yari» 
ous Matters. 
Here is quite a lot of letters from my youngsters far 
and near, and to answer them I must say a little about 
various things —When I say “youngsters,” of course I 
mean girls as well as boys, for I should be sorry to have 
the girls think they were not included.—We will begin 
with a girl’s letter—little Minnie D. S., who lives in Mis¬ 
souri ; she is only 11 years old, and lias already learned 
to use her eyes better than some older persons do. Min¬ 
nie one day went to the creek with her father, and see¬ 
ing something on a bush that looked like an eatable ber¬ 
ry, she picked it, and finding that she had never seen 
anything of the kind before, she took it to her father, 
who said it looked like “ Waahoo,” but was not sure. 
Minnie evidently is a girl who wishes to be sure, so she 
very sensibly sends a specimen to the old Doctor, 
ASKING “WHAT IS IT?” 
and wants an answer in the American Agriculturist .— 
Your father was right, Minnie, the fruit sent is that of 
the bush known in the western states as Waahoo, but in 
the east, for it grows all the way from New York to Mis¬ 
souri, and from there on to Oregon, it is known as Burn¬ 
ing-hush and Spindle-tree. You may think I made a 
mistake in calling this a fruit, but that is just what I in¬ 
tended to say; we sometimes use the word fruit—to 
mean an eatable product; but in describing plants, what¬ 
ever follows after the flower, and contains the seeds, is 
properly the fruit, no matter whether it is hard and dry, 
or juicy and eatable. This fruit sent by Minnie, when first 
