Unaccepted articles will be returned to the writers _if stamps are sent with them_ to pay return postage. Manuscripts not so accompanied will not be preserved, and subsequent requests for their return cannot be complied with. [Hand-->] ==New Subscribers for 1876, whose names and money are sent us before November next, will receive the last three numbers of 1875 FREE.== [Hand-->] We want a special agent in every town in the United States. Persons disposed to act in that capacity, are invited to communicate with the publisher. [Illustration] THE DELIGHTS OF THE SEASIDE. Oh merry, merry sports had we, last summer on the beach,-- Lucy and Oliver and I, with Uncle Sam to teach! At times, clad in our bathing-suits, we'd join our hands, all four, And rush into the water, or run along the shore. The wet sand, how it glistened on the sunny summer day! And how the waves would chase us back, as if they were in play! And when, on the horizon blue, a sail we would espy, How "Ship ahoy!" or "Whither bound?" we all of us would cry! The white, white sand, so smooth and hard, oh what a place for fun! With no one by to check our screams, or say, "Now, pray, have done!" The sea-birds, not at all disturbed by all our mirthful noise, Would cry to us, as if they said, "Shout on, shout on, my boys!" Sometimes we'd seek for flattened stones, and skim them o'er the waves; Then go where, in the piled-up rocks, the sea had hollowed caves; Or sit and feel the cooling breeze in silent happiness; Or hunt for seaweed in the clefts, and take it home to press. And well do I remember there a little shallow creek, Where we would go and sail our ships, at least three times a week: We loaded them with cargoes rich, and sent them all to Spain; And back they came with heavy freights, by which we made much gain. Oh! pleasant pastimes on the beach, how often I recall The ocean grand, the distant sails, the rocks, the lighthouse tall! They do not fade, these pictures bright, from memory's inner view; And age itself shall never dim their colors ever new. EMILY CARTER. [Illustration] MABEL AND HER FRIEND CARLO. Mabel lives on a hill, quite near a beautiful lake, and is very fond of going with her papa to take a row on the water. Sometimes they visit the woods on the other side of the lake, and pick wild flowers, or go where the water-lilies grow, near the shore, and gather a bunch of the pretty white blossoms. But I must tell about Mabel's friend Carlo. He is a large shaggy dog, owned by a gentleman who lives near. Although quite a young dog, he knows a great deal. He is very fond of water, and is wild with delight at the prospect of a swim.