Ships have gone down, and bags of gold, And copper and silver and riches untold Lie on the bottom of the fathomless deep, Where so many souls have gone to sleep. Ships have gone down with lively crews, And there is no one to tell the sad news About how many souls unwillingly sleep On the bottom of the fathomless deep. Lobsters and crabs and fishes all, From the big whale down to the minnow small, And porpoises frolic and jump and leap In the waters of the fathomless deep. The waves break with a rush and roar Upon the sands, as they did of yore; And often and often people weep For the souls that have died in the fathomless deep. Sailors sail on the ocean green, And will continue to do so, I ween; For they wont take warning from the souls that sleep On the bottom of the fathomless deep. BARNEGAT CITY, N. J., Sept. 11, 1885. * * * * * "A JEWEL":--Your little story is very clever, as the work of a girl of your age, and we should gladly print it in the Letter-Box if there were space for it. But we are sorry to say that we can not possibly make room for the story in our already over-crowded columns. * * * * * PARIS, FRANCE. DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am an American boy, living in Paris; I do not like it much here. I have been to the Louvre several times since I have been here, and the delightful "Stories of Art and Artists" have a double interest, for when I go to the Louvre I can look for the works of artists mentioned in those stories. I have seen the picture of Mme. le Brun and her daughter there, and it is beautiful. I have seen also a good many of David's. I am eleven years old, and have two sisters and one brother, all younger than myself, and we all wait for you with impatience. I have taken you now for three years, and to part with you would be like parting with an old friend. "Little Lord Fauntleroy" is the nicest next to "Art and Artists," I think. I go to a school with over eleven hundred boys. I leave the house at ten minutes of eight, in the morning, and I do not get home until six at night. I hope you will print this, as it is my first letter. Now, with much love to you and the Little School-ma'am, I remain, Your constant reader, J. H. T. * * * * * In the article in our last number, entitled "A Royal Fish," the author stated that in this country a salmon weighing fifty pounds was considered a very large one. But a correspondent now sends us the following item describing a salmon which weighed seventy-two pounds. No salmon of this weight, however, has ever been caught _with a rod_ on the American side of the ocean. Here is the item: