Sarah Margaret Fuller was a native of Cambridgeport, Mass. Very early in life she gave promise of the brilliant literary career which she afterwards ran. She was a fine scholar even in childhood, especially in the languages, and in general literature. Her education was carried on in private. After she entered her teens, she became a teacher of the languages in classes in Boston, and in Mr. Alcott's school, and was at one time the principal of a school in Providence. While she was a contributor to the _Tribune_, she was a member of the family of Horace Greeley. Her views of life were modelled after the philosophy of Ralph Waldo Emerson, and about the year 1839, or 1840, she gave a series of lectures, or talks, though I believe they were called _conversazioni_, especially for ladies, the object being the propagation of then somewhat novel ideas. She also became the editor of a paper. She wrote much, and with considerable brilliancy. Her "Summer on the Lakes" gives pictures of the Lake Superior region. Her "Woman in the Nineteenth Century" has to do with some phases of the "Woman's Rights Question." In 1846 she went abroad, and married, in Rome, a nobleman, Giovanni Angelo Ossoli. But she bore the name and the title attached to it only a few years. For when she was returning to America, accompanied by her husband, both lost their lives in a shipwreck. She was a woman of strong passions, indeed it has been said of her that "She was noted for her eccentricities and her ungovernable passions." Not just what I would wish to be written of any of my young friends of THE PANSY. It is a sad thing when a great and gifted woman misses the happiness of a quiet spirit. FAYE HUNTINGTON. [Illustration: RARE SPORT.] _Volume 13, Number 38._ Copyright, 1886, by D. LOTHROP & CO. _July 24, 1886._ THE PANSY. [Illustration: NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. (_See page 301._)] ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON. BY MARGARET SIDNEY. IX. "YOU'RE in luck!" Wilfred's voice was harsh and unpleasant, and he looked at St. George in a way decidedly disagreeable. George Edward went on whittling. "Allen, it's no use to pretend that I'm not in an awful scrape by that little affair over at Sachem Hill. Goodness! why don't you speak to a chap?" "I've nothing to say," observed St. George, proceeding with his work. "Your tongue is ready enough generally," retorted Wilfred in a temper. "Now, if it suits you to be an oyster, it don't me. I'd rather you'd preach, infinitely." "I don't do that," cried St. George, throwing down knife and stick, and turning a countenance by no means saintly upon his visitor. "You sha'n't stand there and throw that at me," he declared in a heat. "I didn't say you did," said Wilfred coolly, "I only said I'd rather you would. So go on." "It's none of my business what you do," cried St. George, "I'm not going to say a word about it."