Little 'Fraid Cat By Sara E. Wiltse The first time I ever saw the boy who was nicknamed 'Fraid Cat by all the boys, I thought his silence, his alternate blushing and paling when I tried to get acquainted with him, were caused by bashfulness; but when I gently asked the boys to give me his real name, and not to tease him with their nonsense, 'Fraid Cat gave me such an appealing look of trust that I suspected that the boys had really divined something hidden in his nature. The unhappy boy was afraid of other boys, and at first his fear of me stood between us and any acquaintance. He did not play with other children, nor did he try to get or keep near any teacher in the building, but behaved much like those creatures of the animal kingdom which roll themselves into a little hard ball that looks exactly like a seed-pod, if you try to look at them or find how they behave, evading you until you declare you will study something less deceptive; and as you remove your magnifying-glass the seed-pod opens, a score of little legs are unfolded for flight, and the thing is under a stone or a chip before you can readjust your glass. But I determined to make the acquaintance of little 'Fraid Cat if he hid from me for twenty years; so I made friends with his mother, who said she had had six children, but this one was the "beatimus," to use her own word. He moped in a corner; when at home he did not play even with his own brothers, often putting his fingers in his ears and hiding his face when the others were romping and noisy. He did not seem to mind being called 'Fraid Cat as much as I at first thought, and I soon learned that to this distinction of wearing an ignominious title he owed immunity from trials of skill which other boys courted, but which filled him with terror. I finally hit upon the plan of taking his donjon by strategy. I purchased a sensitive-plant, and procured one of those caterpillars that roll up into a hairy ball if touched, and, ignoring for the millionth time the boy's evasion of me, I assumed that he, like any other boy, would like to see these things perform. Chance favored me wonderfully, for, as I approached the school grounds, I met 'Fraid Cat running, blinded with fright, first one way and then another, to escape a small rabble of boys who were personating all the animals of the newly arrived menagerie, pretending they would devour poor little 'Fraid Cat, who ran into my arms as if all fear of me were at last merged into trust. I managed to carry him, for, although slight and attenuated, his trembling and contortions of fear made him a much heavier burden than a springing, joyous child of ten would have been. I also managed to preserve the caterpillar alive, and the pot of sensitive-plant unharmed, while I held the boy in such a firm grasp that his nerves were somewhat quieted before I opened my hand to show him the smaller 'fraid cat, as I called the little furry ball that did not improve its liberty by unrolling for many minutes. 'Fraid Cat shrank closer into my arm as he looked in my hand, and I told him that the more the caterpillar grew, the less afraid it would become, and that if he liked to take care of it until it became a moth with wings it would cling to his finger with no signs of the fear it now showed. I told 'Fraid Cat about the savages who are afraid of the things we use every day; and he grew talkative for him, confessing that he was afraid of every thing, and it was no use to try not to be afraid. But, I said, you will grow away from your fears just as surely as you grow out of your clothes; for you are a boy, and a boy is something better than a caterpillar or a plant like this; and then I showed him the sensitiveplant which closed its leaves and even drooped its stems when I cast the shadow of my hand on it. 'Fraid Cat caught his breath and sobbed, "I'm afraid of shadders, too!" I asked him to tell me what else he was afraid of besides caterpillars and "shadders," and to my amazement he answered: "I'm afraid of the other boys. I'm afraid of the dark, for it's full of awful things, and I'm afraid of the day for fear the sun will tumble down. Oh, I tell you I'm afraid of everything!" "Will you try to write them all down for me," I asked, "so I can see if I am afraid of any of them, and if I can help you to laugh at some of them ?" I told him if he was a brave boy by the time the caterpillar was a moth that would be all I could ask; and he left me, carrying the caterpillar with him, having entirely forgotten his fear of it. Next day he handed me a written confession which I give without change of diction or spelling: Dere techer lam afrade of a gorilla alion a tigur a bull a unicorn andcrazy dog a lepard an iceberg ajaguar. a crokodile or allygater a skunk a whale. the devil. a crazy man and a crazy woman. hornets fires, an antelope a dragon a ghost a cyclone. or earthquake a grave. a buffalo. a runaway car. a wild boar. a snake. a walrus a wasp. a robber. a wolf. the thunder. a bad man. a mouse. a chipmuck a grizzly bear. a black bear, a wild cat. a wild ele phunt. a mules heels. a pantur. a shark. bullets. Corbats fists. a wild indian withhis clubs. war an ape a policeman after murder. night mare. death. the flying fox, badger. puma kangaroo lynx gnu. chimpanzee hyena hog centipedes gambler and a few others. I'am afrade of the sun because it gives sun stroke and of clouds because of cloud bursts. the moon I think may break and fly in all directions causing floods. If the sun should not rise we should be in darkness all the time when it is cold I am afrade my fingers may drop off. your true friend P.S. I aint afrade of catty pillers any more. I will not append the real name to this confession, which is lifted out of the ridiculous by its tragic pathos. The number of animals he feared was probably augmented by the temporary presence of the menagerie in town. Imagine for one moment, if you can, the state of mind in which this child dwelt, who feared the sun by day and the darkness and moon alike by night. It seemed to me rather useless to reason about his fears in the order he had named while his health was so impaired and his condition so morbid. So I thanked him for his composition, which I said was so good that I would like to have him illustrate it for me. I proposed a little blank book which should remain in my possession, he to draw such pictures as I wanted at odd hours out of school. To be asked to do anything with an expectation of his daring to undertake it was stimulating to him, and I found him in some haste to begin his book. On the first page he was directed to copy his first-named fear, and underneath that to make a picture of the animal named. I stood at his elbow while he undertook this impossible task, but he drew something which was neither man nor gorilla, nor even missing link, and apologetically explained that the gorilla he feared was more terrible than he could picture. He could not help smiling at the grotesque figure he had drawn, however, and, without following him through the first pages of his book, it is enough to say that he no longer feared the animals thus incarnated. Day by day his fears were decreased; his comrades began to respect him for his contributions to their knowledge of entomology, for he kept notes on his caterpillar, and read a creditable composition entitled "From Larva to Pupa," it seeming wise to encourage a little ostentation of knowledge on his part. It took time and patience, some help from a physician, and a double portion of country week to establish this boy in healthy relations to his environment; but who shall count the effort too great for the accomplishment? for in place of the pallid, shrinking 'Fraid Cat of the school, we have a normally healthy, curious, fun-loving boy, ready for his tasks and forgetful of his nerves. Voice-Culture Women, it can be said with truth, have by their activities in public life had forced upon them a new test, and one which the wise woman, irrespective of her age, to-day will endeavor to meet with intelligence and with ease. Recently there was a gathering of women of probably more than average intelligence. A number of women and one man spoke. The comments made after that meeting were instructive from many points of view. They may be summed up in ejacula tory sentences something like the following: "What a relief it was to hear a man!" One woman ambiguously expressed herself in this way: "What an awful mistake it was to ask a man to speak at that meeting!" The group to whom she spoke evidently did not understand her, and she explained herself by saying: "Why, his voice proved conclusively that women should not speak in public." This was an exaggerated statement, doubtless; but it is true that women should prepare themselves for public speaking if they are to appear before an audience. It is ridicu lous, every one will admit, for a woman to prepare a paper to be read in public, and then to speak in such a tone that she cannot be heard. The development in voice-culture to-day is scientific. It is no longer a mere case of elocutionary effects. The best teachers avoid this. Voice-culture has become voice-developmentthe building of the voice. And more than one man acknowledges his debt to the teacher who taught him how to use his vocal chords. It is not only a question of eliminating nasal tones; it is a question of holding the body, of gestures; in short, of harmony. The intellectual development of this country is rapid, and with that intellectual development have come new standards. The coming generation of women will drive from the field the present generation of workers because of their assurance that one must not only know what to say, but how to say it. The value of the trumpet of Gabriel lies in the fact that it will be heard, not in the fact that Gabriel blows the trumpet. The use of the voice will yet become one of the tests applied by educational authori ties to every teacher. No woman will be permitted to enter the class-room until she has acquired a good vocal tone. There are women so deficient in reasoning, however, as to feel that a clear voice with carrying power denotes unwomanliness, and that the merit of their speaking lies largely in the fact that they do not use an audible tone. To speak clearly and audibly does not mean to use an unnaturally loud tone. It is a question of vocal development, and every ligent woman will lay quite as much stress on acquiring a clear, distinct enunciation as she will on acquiring English. Mothers of daughters can not begin too early in training their children, and one method which the educated mother may begin in the nursery is to require the little ones, as soon as they learn how to read, to read aloud. Later on the encouragement of dramatic representation will offer larger fields of training; but clear enun. ciation can be taught when a child is taught to read. Employment of Children intel The Attorney-General of New York State has written an opinion on the employment of children. He states that the employment of children under fourteen years of age is prohibited in manufacturing and mercantile establishments only; that there is nothing in the present Mercantile Law which precludes the employment of a child under that age in any other establishment than manufacturing or mercantile. They can be employed as office-boys, errand-boys, nurse.girls, housemaids, and errand-girls. The law does not protect them from employment in such capacities. A Summer Voyage on American Waters By Hearv Hoyt Moore HERE shall we go this summer? What shall we do? With the recurrence of the vacation season comes this inevitable and ofttimes perplexing problem. Shall we take a trip to Europe? spend a month at Bar Harbor or Newport? visit the White Mountains? take a quiet outing in some secluded spot unknown to the world? Shall we try the old familiar place again, with all its drawbacks? or shall we seek fresh fields and pastures new, with all their possibilities of refreshment or of dissatisfaction? When we think of the vacation at the quiet place, far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife, we remember the rainy days and the monotony of idle hours, the paucity of human interest, and the sometimes openly expressed regret on the part of the fair members of the party that there is "nobody to dress for." When we consider the mountain project, we say, "Yes, the mountains are beautiful, but then-they are hard to climb, and we want to rest this time; and besides, we've been there before, and want something new." Even the fashionable seaside resort palls upon us after a season or two. And when we think of the trip to Europe, we remember the experience of our friend who went over last year and "ate just two Malaga grapes in seven days," and of our other friend who on the return voyage was flung against the saloon door by an unexpected lurch and had her face cut open; and we say with a sigh that perhaps we'd better think again before definitely deciding on the sea voyage. If only we could have an ocean trip without the mal de mer, without those sea odors which are unappetizing, without the dangers from storms and derelicts and the whims of Father Neptune, and with bracing air and bright sunshine and a little relief now and then from the monotony of a landless horizonthat would be the kind of a sea voyage, we say to ourselves, that we could look forward to with unalloyed delight. Now, it is a curious but wellknown fact that the thing which we are looking for is often near at hand, but not seen because we are straining our eyes to catch a glimpse of it in the far distance. The familiar domestic experience of the boy looking for his cap while it is on the back of his head, and of the grandfather ransacking the house for the spectacles which are all the while resting comfortably on his benevolent brow, is sometimes repeated by the middleaged members of the family who greet these exhibitions of forgetfulness with unrestrained and superior laughter. The head of the vacationseeking family, who is trying to focus his eyes upon the antipodes in his search for pleasure, and who thinks he is predicating the impossible in his demands for the ideal voyage, might, if he were to cast his eyes around nearer home, find what he is looking for, in the realization of the seemingly impossible. One can take in our own country a trip "on summer seas" which realizes the conditions that would make the ocean voyage ideal. A beautiful clean white steel steamship, built exclusively for passenger travel and carrying no freight; sailing over seas whose tideless, landlocked waters are yet so extensive as to require several days' travel by the swiftest modern vessels to traverse them from end to end; air so bracing and invigorating that as one breathes it day after day good digestion must perforce "wait on appetite, and health on both," in view of the delicious, wholesome viands provided; bright skies and marvelously clear atmosphere, the upper world seeming to reflect the conditions of the lower, the clearness of the sky matching the translucency of the deep cold waters; now far out of sight of land, again passing thriving towns and busy cities, wooded heights, picturesque islands, and historic bays; a never-ending procession of passing lake craft of strange aspect; the novel sight of "locking " great ships through a canal more important commercially than that of Suez; picturesque humanity in the shape of half-breeds, French-Canadians, "lakers," lumbermen, grangers, Western capitalists and promoters ;-these are some of the attractions of a voyage on our great inland seas under the flag of the Northern Steamship Company. Is not the picture almost alluring enough to induce one to take a trip to Central Africa or to South America to enjoy such an experience (if it could be had there) on Lake Tanganyika or Titicaca? Indeed, if some explorer were to propose to us a tour on one of the great African lakes, how would our imaginations fire at the thought how much money would we gladly spend on our outfit and our traveling expenses! what sacrifices of time and business would we be willing to make! And yet here are our American lakes, greater than any in Africa, and almost as unknown to the aver age vacation traveler, right at our doors, to be seen easily, cheaply, and with all the comforts and satisfactions of the best hotel, and a variety and interest that could not be rivaled even by a hotel on wheels. A brief account of a trip of this sort may help to enlighten those who are interested, and to interest those who are not yet enlightened as to the possibilities of a voyage on our inland seas. The round trip from Buffalo, New York, to Duluth, Minnesota, by way of the Great Lakes, enables one to see all the most important and most picturesque of this remarkable chain of lakes. Lakes Erie, Huron, and Superior are traversed in their entire length; and at the Strait of Mackinac one sees the waters of Lake Michigan, at whose southern extremity is situated the Western metropolis, Chicago. The trip consumes about three days each way, if taken without "stopping over," and gives one about two thousand miles of travel aboard ship. It is only within a year or two that this trip has been possible, no vessels of the grade of those of the Northern Steamship Company having previously been known on the lakes. Their steamers, the "North Land" and the "North West," are complete departures from the conventional type of lake craft-in itself original and peculiar. The lakes are the home of remarkable vessels, from the "whaleback "-which, when loaded, looks like Captain Nemo's "Nautilus," as described in Jules Verne's "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea "--to the "sand-sucker" of the Detroit River. To the inventive genius of Western shipbuilders, therefore, it was entirely fitting to leave the construction of a vessel which should be built for the comfort and convenience of her passengers rather than for the transporta tion of freight, which is the raison d'être of the average salt-water steamship. The results of this aim are seen in the unusually large and welllighted staterooms, finished in mahogany and decorated in white and gold, and provided with running water and with electric lights and electric call - bells. Other staterooms are still more sumptuous and roomy, having brass bedsteads, cheval mirrors, and private bath-rooms and layatories, with handsome rugs for floorcovering; some of these "parlor staterooms are beautifully finished in paneled white mahog any. But on these vessels one does not expect to spend much of his time in his stateroom-there is too much of interest going on elsewhere; and it is the elegance of the saloons and the spaciousness of the decks that attracts one's attention, after the preliminary glance at his stateroom that curiosity permits every one to take. These richly yet tastefully decorated apartments are a revelation to the traveler who entertains the mistaken notion that the West is everywhere "crude" and "raw" and without standards of taste. Quiet and harmoni. ous in their treatment, the carving and gilding and coloring show that genuine artistic feeling which can use costly materials without giving the appearance of display for display's sake. None of the "ocean greyhounds" can show anything approaching in refined elegance the interior fittings of these steamers. The same thing may be said of the large and beautiful dining-room to which the appetizing air of the lakes compels the traveler to make frequent and satisfying visits. Meals are à la carte, and all the delicacies of metropolitan life are at the diner's command, and, in addition, some rarebits unfamiliar to the Easterner, including that special delicacy known in its perfection only on the lakes-planked whitefish. The "North West" and the "North Land" have. special equipments for lake travel, including apparatus for increasing and diminishing the vessel's draught, 100,000 candle-power search-lights, a larger number of individual electric lamps than are to be found on any ocean steamer, a complete refrigerating plant which manufactures 1,000 pounds of ice per day, and 7,000 horse-power independent engines which drive the good ship, with the aid of twin screws, through the inland seas at the rate of 22 miles an hour. They are, in a word, crack boats throughout, and need fear no comparison with ocean liners. The Eastern terminus of the Northern Steamship Company is at Buffalo, that vigorous young giant among lake cities, whose growth has been in direct ratio with the decline of its shaggy namesake of the plains. A few miles from Niagara Falls, Buffalo forms a convenient starting-point for those who have visited that great natural wonder, and the voyage on the lakes from Buffalo makes an agreeable break in the monotony of railroad travel for those who are crossing the continent. As one stands on the roomy deck of the steamer at Buffalo and watches the crowded pier below, hears the good-bys and sees the signals of parting friends, he really feels as if he were going "far away to roam," and experiences that sensation of the vagueness and vastness of the unknown world before him without which a voyage would lose its finest inspiration to the imagination. Great unwieldy shapes that go creeping by as the vessel slowly makes its way out of Buffalo waters are the grain elevators that bring fortune to the place; these are soon passed, and the twinkling lights of Buffalo (for it is night when we leave) begin to fade. We sit gazing over the waters of the open lake awhile, inhaling the fresh air and listening dreamily to the music that floats from below, and eventually follow its suggestion and lie down to pleasant dreams in our comfortable room. The city of Cleveland greets us bright and early next morning with her thousand belching factory chimneys that tell of busy workers who have risen earlier still; on a hilltop near the city we see the outlines of the famous Garfield Monument; and if we care to stroll ashore we may perhaps get a glimpse of that "street of millionaires," Euclid Avenue; or the tourist may possibly prefer to watch the agile newsboys at the landing pier throw the morning papers with sure aim to the passengers on the lofty hurricane deck of the steamer, The daylight sail across Lake Erie is full of interest and satisfaction to the patriotic American; he passes Put-in-Bay and the scene whence emanated Commodore Perry's famous dispatch: We have met the enemy and they are ours." To others the crisp air and the passing lake craft, games of shuffleboard and of quoits, may cause old-time reminiscences to pass lightly by, especially when the Detroit River, with its picturesque islands and its graceful yachts, comes into view. Detroit itself, the chief city of Michigan, with its extensive water frontage and its beautiful island park, furnishes many an opportunity for the camera-carrier to take good spoil away. So do the St. Clair Flats, through the single street of which river city the steamer passes for miles"Little Venice" it is sometimes called, with its gay club-houses and villas built on piles for the modern "lake-dwellers of Michigan. After a day which seems but an hour on account of the variety of incident, the steamer enters Lake Huron, and the next morning we find ourselves in the Straits of Mackinac, where converges the commerce of all the great lakes--the lines from Chicago and Milwaukee as well as from Superior and the lower lakes. Picturesque craft abound-great steel freighters, whalebacks, nondescript lumber boats with deck loads, and slow-moving "tows." Soon we reach the farfamed island of Mackinac, with its old fort and its old traditions of Indian, voyageur, and furtrader, its "devil's kitchen" and "arched rock" -a good place for one to "stop over" and explore if he is not in a hurry, or is not too much interested in the varied attractions of the trip. Perhaps, however, this would better be left for the return. For we are now anxious to see the noted St. Mary's River, with its tortuous passages and narrow channels, through which it is a never-ceasing source of delight to watch the skillful lake pilots maneuver the great ship, with the In the Lock at Sault Ste. Marie |