he had pleaded for the South saying: "I hope there will be no persecution, no bloody work, after the war is over. No one need expect me to take any part in hanging or killing these men, even the worst of them. Enough lives have been sacrificed"-that that man was dead.

Yet that was the truth, for nevermore would the people be inspired by his glowing patriotism and undying love for his country. John Wilkes Booth, an actor, had shot Lincoln in his insane rage over the fall of the Confederacy.

Abraham Lincoln, whose name will live forever in the hearts of Americans, had paid the price of the liberty of his country with his own life.

THE ROLL OF HONOR

A list of those whose work would have been used had space permitted.

THIS report from a pupil of the Mapleton School, Boulder, Colorado, will give our young readers an added interest in the article in this number which tells the story of the "Rocky Mountain Knitter-boys."

THERE are three hundred seventy-five pupils in the Mapleton School, Boulder, Colorado, each of whom is engaged in active Red Cross work. Every pupil is a Junior member, and the school proudly floats its Red Cross service-flag to the breeze.

Since last October Mapleton School has turned out about four hundred and eighty pieces, including washcloths, sweaters, scarfs, wristlets, helmets, socks, and eight hospital quilts, one of which was made entirely by the first and second grade children. Two complete baby layettes, three dozen tray-cloths, and three dozen napkins were made by the upper grade girls, while four dozen hankerchiefs were hemmed by hand by the fifth and sixth grade giris. Many of the sweaters were knitted by fifth and seventh grade boys, and the sixth grade boys knitted many pairs of socks. Aside from knitting, the seventh and eighth grade boys have made quantities of Red Cross shipping-boxes.

Besides doing Red Cross work, this school has purchased a one-hundred-dollar Liberty Bond with part of the money raised by the sale of vegetables from the school's gardens. There are also about sixty children in the school who own bonds.

All of this work is under the successful supervision of Miss S. M. Lovelace, Principal of Mapleton School.

WELLINGTON COLLEGE STATION, ENGLAND. DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: My home address is in London, but the raids are so awful that we have had to move. I thought it would interest you to hear about something that happened to my aunt as she was coming back from Windsor one night. Well, it was a very, very cold night, and my cousin had been down to Eton with his mother; he had been very ill the term before, and, of course, they took an early train home, so that he should not catch cold.

All went well until about seven o'clock, when, just as the train reached Acton (a place outside London), all the lights were put out and the train started to creep along. It was so cold that they had to sit cuddled up to each other in the middle of the car. Soon they heard the most awful noise of guns, and shrapnel began to fall all round them, when suddenly the train stopped. My aunt put her head out of the window to see where they were, and to her horror she saw an aeroplane up in the sky, just near them. It was so low that she could see the airmen lean over the side of the car and drop out five bombs! And as you may imagine she quickly withdrew her head.

Presently the train started to move, but it soon stopped, as the firing began again. This time the guard came to the carriage door and told them to get out; so they got out, and, creeping along the lines, reached a bridge and stood there with a lot of other people. Later on, they crept out from the shelter of the bridge, and, with shrapnel falling all around them, they reached the waiting-room.

After the raid they took the train to London and got home at twelve o'clock. They both got bad colds, but my cousin, being a boy, did not mind it at all. Your admiring reader,

FRANCES JAMES (age 13).

NEWARK, N. J. DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I thought perhaps that some of your readers would be interested to hear about my brother Hugh. He thought he was a great "slacker," because he was n't doing anything to help win the war. He is only seven, and he had infantile paralysis three years ago and can't walk at all, so you would not think there would be much he could do. But Mother showed him how to knit, and now he does nothing else. He has made eight mufflers and two sleeveless sweaters, and he wants to do socks, but Mother thinks that is too hard, because you have to use smaller needles. He cannot use his left hand very much, so the big needles are better. I wanted to send you a photograph of Hugh knitting, but there was n't a

good one, so my father, who is an artist, said I might have a little sketch he made one day of Hugh. I wonder if there are many little girls no older than Hugh who have made as many things as he has. I know I have not.

I am twelve years old, and some day I hope to be an artist. Sometimes I send pictures to the LEAGUE and I think the people do fine work whose drawings you print. I love ST. NICHOLAS and it does not come often enough to suit me. Hugh loves it, too, and I read it to him very often. I think Mr. Bower's pictures are splendid, and I wish he did more of them. I loved Prince Beaumain and Griflet.

Hugh sends you his love, and so do I.

MARY E. WINTON.

At the last minute Hugh wants to send you a letter, too. Some of the spelling is funny, but nobody helped him, and it is hard for him to do writing.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I want to tell you I like your storeys and pitcures my sister shows me. And I like the leter box, too, because I hear about children in very forin places. I hope you will allways come to our house. Your loveing friend,

HUGH MCKENZIE WINTON.

June

PICTURED ANSWERS

A NUMBER of objects are shown in the above picture. Among them may be found the answers to the four following riddles :

I. Hard-hearted, rosy cheeked, petite,
Attractive, dainty, round and sweet.
II. It has a tongue but cannot speak,
But sometimes gives a tiny squeak.
It may have many nails although
It only has a single toe.

III. They form a group for use, not show,
And close at hand they live and grow.
They work and play, are sometimes drest,
And one's opposed to all the rest.

IV. Its body's white, its skin is brown,
Its covering pointed, smooth and hard;
At one end it is bent and scarred,
Its ragged coat hangs loosely down.

*

RICHARD PHILLIPS.

TRANSPOSITIONS

EXAMPLE: Transpose a fruit, and make to harvest. An

swer:

Pear, reap.

1. Transpose a repast, and make crippled.

2. Transpose proud, and make a Christian name often given in Russia.

3. Transpose a tiny, perforated ball, and make commanded.

4. Transpose close at hand, and make to acquire by labor.

5. Transpose caution, and make a contest.

6. Transpose plunder, and make an implement.

7. Transpose a heavy cart, and make a measure of length.

When the transpositions have been rightly made, the initials of the new words formed will spell what the Allies are fighting for.

BARBARA COOKE (age 13), League Member.

WORD-SQUARE

1. A KNAVE. 2. Agile. 3. Announced. 4. Quoting. 5. To vindicate by punishing a wrong-doer. 6. An account book.

HEYLTJE STEWART (age 14), League Member.

NUMERICAL ENIGMA

I AM composed of sixty-nine letters and form a quotation from a patriotic song.

My 16-35-50 is amount. My 11-58-12 is a series. My 21-54-28-3 is a feature of the face. My 40-67-4431 is a fine powder. My 61-48-43-1 is to please. My 34-63-56-46 is a month. My 18-10-33-65 and my 36-6-23-69-42 each name a point of the compass. My

a

CROSS-WORDS: 1. An orchestral composition in which one or more instruments stand out in bold relief. 2. A German title equivalent to marquis. 3. To put in state of readiness for active service in war. 4. Alone. 5. Ignorant. 6. Sudden fear. 7. The office held by Dryden, Colley Cibber, and others. 8. A tree common in the South. 9. A character in the "Merchant of Venice." 10. A monument erected in honor of a person. RUTH OVIATT (age 15).

ANTHONY FABBRI (age 16), League Member.

CHARADE

My first the poor man's dinner makes;
The rich man of my whole partakes
The cowboy hates the smoky town,
He much prefers the prairies brown;
The city streets he cannot bear,
Out West there is my last to spare.

WILLIAM GILLESPIE.

14. 17.