DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: While reading in the November number of ST. NICHOLAS about "Our Joe," I thought some of the ST. NICHOLAS readers would be interested in hearing about _our_ Joe. _Our_ Joe is a Broncho pony that belonged to Rain-in-the-face, a chief in one of Sitting Bull's bands. When the ponies were taken and driven down in a drove, Our Joe got loose from the others and was caught somewhere near here. His name was Joe, but when Papa brought him home and we saw how little he was, we called him Little Joe, and when we rode him he went so easy we named him Little Joe Dandy. We have a little red cart we call the dump, to drive him in. He is such a funny little fellow that everybody has to take a second look at him. I am five feet tall, and his shoulders are not quite as high as mine; his hair in winter is as thick and long as a buffalo's; his tail touches the ground, and his mane hangs far down on his shoulders, and is always stuck full of burrs in summer. His color is iron-gray, if it's anything, but it's hard to tell what color he is. I had my picture taken on horseback, and he looks as if he was about ready to fall asleep, but he has life in him if he takes a notion to go! He is mean to the boys. He picked my brother up by the shoulder and shook him, and one day he kicked Papa. There was a pair of them--Our Joe and a Little Buckskin. The Buckskin would bunt his head against Joe, as a signal to go, and then they would make things fly! Every one who knew the pony before we got him says he was so ugly, it was dangerous to go around him; but he is the kindest little fellow to us. If I go out in the pasture where he is, he will follow me everywhere I go. We think the world of him. Hoping my letter is not too long, I remain, our constant reader, H. C. * * * * * CHICAGO. DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I live in Chicago, where the boys play marbles almost all the time in the spring. I am a fairly good player. I have six hundred and four. I hope the boys who read ST. NICHOLAS will try to get as many marbles. Yours truly, CHESHIRE S. * * * * * CITY OF MEXICO. DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am a little girl seven years old, and live alone with my father, who is a Baptist missionary. I have a mother, and little brother, and two sisters, living in the States. I have learned to spell the names of three places that I can see from our roof. They are Chapultepec, and Popocatepetl, and Ixiaccihuatl. There are lots of strange things here. We never slide downhill here, because there is no snow. I like ST. NICHOLAS, especially the "Brownies." EDWINA S. * * * * *