He liked to read of voyages, And navigators’ lore. “And I can tell you how,” he said, “To make a splice or a ‘Turk’s head,’ To hold the reel, or heave the lead, And—oh! a great deal more.” And if perchance you missed him, When others were at play, You’d find him stowed in some odd nook, Off cruising in his sailor book With Frobisher or Captain Cook, In regions far away. He has not gone from home as yet, To ship before the mast; But only wait and you shall see— Sailors are made from such as he; I’m very sure that he will be An Admiral at last. [Illustration] “Hi! Yi! What’s the matter with you?” “My! My! There’s a frog in my shoe! I just took ’em off to paddle, you know, In the beautiful lake where the pond lilies grow, And when I turned ’round, that frog, don’t you see? Sat up in my shoe and made faces at me. My! My! Oh, what shall I do?” “BLUP!” said the frog—and jumped out of the shoe. [Illustration: “DO _YOU_ LIKE BUTTER, BOSSY?”] JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT. [Illustration] Try not to mind it, dearly beloveds. It is merely “the sensation caused by caloric, or the principle of heat, in excess; the bodily feeling experienced on exposure to the sun’s rays; the reverse of _cold_.” What is there to grumble about in so simple a thing as that? And yet that is all that makes these sunny days uncomfortable. Just fan yourselves with that fact, my dears. I’m assured you have the highest authority for it—a big, wise book named Webster. And now that your thoughts are cooled and refreshed, you’re ready for this communication which the Little School-ma’am wishes to lay before you. LONGFELLOW’S FIRST LETTER. MY DEAR LITTLE SCHOOL-MA’AM: My mamma has found in a new book (the “Life of Henry W. Longfellow,” edited by his brother Samuel), a copy of the very first letter ever written by the poet. We reckoned his age, and found that he was six years and eleven months old when he wrote it. It interested my brother Kit and me so much that Mother said we could copy it for you to show the ST. NICHOLAS boys and girls. I think it was very nice in him to put his sister Ann in first, and Kit says I ought to explain that a billet was sometimes good to get. This is the letter: “PORTLAND, 1814. “DEAR PAPA,—Ann wants a little Bible like little Betsey’s. Will you please buy her one, if you can find any in Boston. I have been to school all the week, and got only seven marks. I shall have a billet on Monday. I wish you to buy me a drum. “HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.” As some one may wish you to tell whether Henry got the drum or not, I think I’ll copy next a part of the father’s answer to the letter. He was in Boston at the time, and he wrote: