I have been taking YOUNG PEOPLE ever since it was published, and I like it very much. This is the first letter I have ever written to Our Post-office Box. We have a nice little pet canary-bird and a little monkey. We have had the monkey four years, but we can not tame him. Last winter it was so cold that once he was almost frozen. At first we thought he was dead, and mamma was about to throw him away, when she saw him move. Then she took him by the stove to warm him, and he got well again. VICTORIA R. * * * * * HOW THEY KEPT THE FOURTH. BY MARY J. PORTER. "Halloa! Walter, wake-up!" cried Georgie. "Don't you know it's the Fourth of July, and we must get up and celebrate it? All the rest of the folks are going to the Town-Hall to hear a speech and get their dinner, and we'll have a good time by ourselves. Do you know what the Fourth of July is for?" "No," answered Walter, in a very sleepy way. "Well, I do; mamma told me last night. It's the anniversary of the time when the United States made up their mind to take care of themselves. That was more than a hundred years ago; that's ever so long, mamma says. Now to-day, Walter, you and I will be like the United States, and take care of ourselves; that's what independence means, and this is Independence-day. Say, Walter, don't let anybody know that I told you, but I heard papa telling mamma that he's going to s'prise us each with lots of fire-works. Now I guess you'll wake up." "Guess I will, too," said Walter, springing to his feet. It did not take the boys long to dress. Sure enough they were surprised and delighted when to each was given a toy gun and a package of torpedoes, and then they were left to amuse themselves. "Tell you what I'll do," said Georgie. "I'll make an oration, and you must be the audience, and when I get through, you must clap very hard, and make me do it all over again." "All right," said Walter. "Jump up there on papa's desk, so I can hear you better." Georgie mounted the desk, and began "Ladies and gentlemen,--I s'pose you know this is the Fourth of July." Then he couldn't think of anything else to say, so he jumped down. In doing so his foot hit the inkstand, and a black, black stream of ink followed him to the floor. "Oh, dear! that's too bad!" he exclaimed. "Won't papa be sorry? Wish I hadn't made a speech. Hurry up, Walter; get something to wipe it off with." Walter tried hard; but he could not wipe away all the ink. Several big spots remained. "Never mind," he said; "we'd better go out-doors and forget about it. Let's play soldier. You and I'll be the Americans, and Brush can be the British." Brush was the Newfoundland dog.