Father made our shoes, and rough ones they were too, and which we only wore in the coldest part of the winter. The long winter evenings were so beautiful to us! Father taught us to read and spell, and chalked out sums on the wall for us; then we would draw profiles on the wall, for the great blaze of the wood-fire cast a bright light, and, consequently, the shadow was well marked. Ahuge chimney-place we had, with a broad hearth, and all about this would we sit, roasting apples and popping corn by the heat of the fire.
So we lived; in the summer, playing "hi-spy" around the corners of the barn, and, in the winter, living snugly in the chimney-corner, telling stories.
When the revolutionary war broke out,—you've heard of that, of course; but then I'm afraid you'll never know how much we endured then; our feeling against the injustice of Mother England was very great. You do not know how we had loved her, nor how we children used to listen to stories of that beautiful country beyond the sea. Our father and mother spoke of it as "Home," and we all hoped that some time, when we were men and women, we might go "Home." Then, when she began to tax us for more money than we were able to pay, in order to build grand palaces, it seemed hard to us; and, even after we had remonstrated again and again, she took no notice of our petitions. She laid a heavy tax on some little comforts we had, such assugarand molasses; and then, when we refused to buy them rather thanpay the tax, she imposed a heavy tax on tea, and sent a great deal of it here to force us to buy it. We wouldn't have the tea, however, and you must have heard how a party of men, disguised as Indians, threw it all into Boston harbor.
All these things seemed the more cruel because they came from "Home." And, finally, worn out with the injustice constantly experienced at their hands, we prepared to resist them by war.
The declaration of independence, which you celebrate every fourth of July, was received with mingled emotions of joy and sorrow. It was severing an old tie which had once been sweet; but yet it promised us, through the doubtful conflict, freedom and independence.
How enthusiastic we children were! Father made us rude wooden guns; and drilled us every morning, for no one knew how long the war would last; but we were determined to conquer, even though our fathers died in the war, and our children succeeded to it. I remember when the recruiting army came round. I seized my gun, and manfully joined its ranks. But to my dismay I was sent back; my wooden gun, and extremeyouth, were thought insufficient to meet the demands of a soldier's duty. I remember well when the battle was fought on Bunker Hill. A great part of the town was gathered upon a slight elevation, from which we could distinctly hear the roaring of the cannons and the clashing of the artillery. It was a terrible day! There was many a woman there who had a father or husband in the battle; and, at each report which filled their ears, they fancied they saw them falling before the foe, and trampled beneath the feet of the conquerors.
Those were trying times. Children, I pray God you may never know such; and you never can, for you will not struggle with poverty as we did. When I look upon your happy faces, and see the satchel full of books on your arm,—when I look in upon your happy homes, upon the career of honor and usefulness before you in the future,—I am, by the strong contrast, transported to those "trying times" when we lived in the cold houses, and wore the coarse cloth; when we sacrificed the refinements of knowledge, and the pleasures of luxury, to the bold struggle of liberty against tyranny; when our hard-working mothers at homemelted their last pewter plate, that the guns should know no lack of bullets, and sent all the little comforts of food and clothing they could find, to bless the husbands and fathers toiling in the war; and when the fathers fought with the fangs of thirst and hunger fast upon them, and leaving behind them, upon the sharp ice, the traces of their footsteps, engraven by their bleeding feet. Then, children, tears of joy and gratitude fill my eyes; for we did not toil in vain. In you all do I behold the fruits of our labor. We were ignorant, that you might be wise; poor, that you might be rich; outlawed and disgraced, that you might build up a free and generous nation. And, in reaping these privileges, do not forget the old man, and the old woman, who, bowed and wrinkled with age, need your kind hand.Wehave given you these things gladly; and now, before we go to our further toil in eternity, let us hear your blessed voices speaking to us in kind tones of love; let us feel your young lips pressed upon our old brows; let us clasp your little hands, and feel the gladness with which your attentions come to us. And when you see an old man, alone, with those of his generation passed away, treat him tenderly. Guide his tottering footsteps, and bear with him when he is slow; for he is waiting for the kind servant, Death. He is thinking of a dear little girl, who, long ago, with her blue eyes and golden hair, her light step and soft embrace, went up to live with the angels; and the tears fall fast over his worn cheeks, as he remembers the lone place she left in his heart, for she was the last thing which had been left him from his broken family. Speak to the old man gently, for his heart is often in converse with the beautiful past! Speak to him gently, for his soul dwells among the angels of heaven!
In one of those tall, splendid houses, standing in proud streets, in which some poor people imagine heaven to dwell, lived a little girl by the name of Helen.
It was Christmas-day; and early in the morning did she jump from her bed, and run to look at her stocking by the fireplace, where it was hung that Santa Claus need not be troubled to hunt for it.
There it hung, filled full, and all about on the sides had fallen the presents it was not large enough to hold. O, how quickly did she empty its contents; and how delighted were her exclamations!
"A beautiful bracelet!" she said to herself, sitting down on the carpet and drawing her little white feet under her; "just such a one, with the opal stone, as I saw in the window, yesterday, whenI went to walk with mamma on Washington-street; and she sent me home, I know, so she could buy it. O, and this beautiful book! how its edges shine! What pictures! Let me see;—'From your affectionate father,'—I knew father gave me that;—and see the pretty cushion, and the box, and the china cups and plates for my doll; and O, a new silk dress for dolly, and something little, away down!" continued Helen, drawing out her hand and peeping into the little stocking; then, putting her hand back, drew out a pretty ring for her finger. "If this is not nice! I neverdid seeanything so pretty,—a ring and a bracelet! O, dear, dear! how happy I am!" She actually danced about the room for joy; and, when Katie came to wash and dress her, she scampered around and around her, for she could not keep still.
There was ever so much candy too, and she wanted only to sit down and eat it, unmindful of Katie's remonstrances.
She had been so delighted with her presents as almost to forget the merry Christmas she was to bid her father and mother; and so, when she went down stairs into the breakfast-room, where the hotrolls were smoking, and the loving parents waiting, they had almost surprised her with their wishes before she bethought herself.
Then she began to think of a party which was to be at her teacher's house, and of the Christmas-tree and the Christ-child, which so many children would go to see in their best frocks and best looks.
So, after the famous Christmas-dinner with its nice roast-meats, and puddings, and pies,—after the game of romps with her father, and the ride on the rocking-horse with her brother, who, at last, from mere mischief, had tipped her off, and sent her crying to her mother,—she began to think about going there. She had seen herself nicely arrayed in the pretty plaid dress, with the ring on her finger, and the opal bracelet on her arm, which she had found in her stocking that morning. Then she bethought herself of how all the children were to bring a few pieces of silver for an offering to the Christ-child, that it might be sent off into distant lands to children who knew nothing of the blessed Christ-child and the Christmas he brought.
It is true Helen had a bright box with a holein the lid, through which she had dropped many a bright piece of silver; and it is also true that the box had a lock, and the key of the lock lay quietly in one of Helen's drawers; but the money there was destined to some very great and vague purpose; and she never would have dreamed of unlocking the box and taking from it any silver for the Christ-child. She knew well enough papa would give her money for that purpose. So to papa she went, and told him what she wanted; and he, proud that his little girl should carry as much as others whom she would meet there, gave her a beautiful gold piece of money—a veritable five dollars!
Then did Helen speed along with exultation in her heart—exultation for the gold in her tiny pocket, and exultation in the very bright dress, quilted pink bonnet, and pretty white furs. And she was so often thinking, "What will Mary say when she sees this?" Not once did Helen ask herself what the Christ-child, or he whom the Christ-child represented, the Saviour in heaven would say to the gold she brought.
Poor Helen!
She was not bringing the gold for the children so far away. She was bringing it because the others would bring some, and she wanted hers seen of them!
Away down in an obscure street, where you would not look for anything kind or beautiful, lived a brother and sister, who made each other very happy in their love. Their names were Johnny and Susan. Johnny was a lame, sick boy, who could not run out of doors and play like other children. It was Christmas morning there too, even, and early had Susan, his sister, awoke to think of the pleasant visit she should make in the afternoon at her teacher's house; and she had even stolen from her bed up to Johnny's bedside to see if he, too, was awake; and when she saw that he was awake and his countenance thoughtful, they began to talk together about the day's pleasure, and how Susan was to remember everything to tell it over by night to Johnny.
"O," said Susan, "to think how beautiful it will be, and I never in a fine house before, and the two sixpences we have earned this week! How glad shall I be to put them in my teacher'shand! Johnny dear," said the little Susan, looking tenderly on her poor brother, "do you not think you need the sixpence yourself? I could buy you a sweet orange, or something nice for you to eat, it is so long since you had anything but bread and water."
"No," said Johnny, "I'd rather much give it to the Christ-child. I love to lie here and think about it, and of those children so far away, who will be glad when they, too, know of this beautiful day. I think of them so much that I love them, Susan, and I wish I had more than the sixpence to send them."
Susan busied herself in preparing the breakfast of bread and water, and then, when it was over and the work done up, she sat down by the side of Johnny's bed, and read to him out of the little book she had brought from her Sunday-school; and Johnny forgot, in the quiet peace of the day, how hard it was to lie still upon the bed, when he so often longed to run out and play; thoughts of love came into his heart, and tears of gentleness into his eyes.
Their dinner was very different from the oneHelen had eaten; but they were happy, their hearts were full of expectation,—and Susan had got herself quite ready, and, wrapping the two pieces of silver in a piece of paper, she kissed Johnny, and set off on her way to the teacher's house.
But when Susan came among the children there, somehow they all shunned her. In their plays, if they had occasion to speak to her, they passed on quickly, with a suppressed smile and hurried glance on each other. If, by any means, she spoke to them, they looked upon her in astonishment, without answering her words. They often whispered one to another, casting curious looks upon her; so she knew easily they spoke of her. What could it mean? What had she done?
I cannot answer this well. She had a gentle, sweet face; her manners were neither rude nor obtrusive, and when she spoke, though her tones were low, half fearful and trembling, still were her words as kind and polite, if not kinder and politer, than those of the other children.
Poor Susan! and she had thought to be so happy that afternoon; she had anticipated onlykindly faces, and loving glances, and kind hands stretched out to her in the plays. For once she had thought to mingle with those pretty children as if they had been her sisters, and, when she went back to dear Johnny, to tell him of their loving words. But now—what! could she tell Johnny, to grieve him, of the sad afternoon she was passing? She looked upon them more closely, trying to find out what it was that separated her from them. 'Tis true she wore no bright plaid dress and delicate cloth boots; she wore no bracelets on her arm; she had not found them in her stocking that morning. There was no necklace about her neck; her hair was not bright and curling; yet, still, what could be the reason they shunned her so?
Susan tremblingly looked over her own dress. Her gown was scanty and of cotton, her pantalets were long and narrow, but they were the best she had; her mother had made them long ago, and Susan had so carefully preserved them. On her feet she wore thick leather shoes; but she knew how the money had been saved, little by little, from week to week, that they might be bought. If they were thick, it was that they might last thelonger; and her hair was combed smoothly over her brow and braided on her neck. Her hands, it is true, were not delicate, like theirs—they were hard and red; but they had become so in working for the home, to keep it clean, and working early and late, that the mother might not be detained from her work out, and that the lame, sick brother should have no little want unsupplied.
And was it that her hands were red and her clothes coarse that the children shunned her—even, too, before they looked into her little home, and saw what she did there, how she comforted Johnny, and swept clean the floor, and even found some time to read out of her books? Could they, with their bright frocks and rosy cheeks, have such very weak and wicked causes for their displeasure against this poor child? Could they so willingly hurt her heart, when she had come from so many days of toil to what she had thought would be a day of pleasure, so that she must often turn her head to wipe off the tears with her little red hand? And these children, had they come to honor the Christ-child?
Their teacher had watched their games, and sawhow they played among themselves, and cast out the little Susan from their play; and she thought that not only did they dishonor the Christ-child, but her who had brought them all together.
But Susan still thought of the Christmas-tree, the present it should bear for her, and how she should take hers home for Johnny; and she thought, too, of the two little sixpences done up in the paper in her pocket. Helen, too, was not unmindful of her bright gold-piece, and had taken good care to show it before the eyes of all the children; and Susan had seen it, and thought of Johnny,—how he had said he wished he had still more to send to the children so far away,—and she thought the little girl with the gold-piece must be happy enough to send it; and she began to feel half ashamed that she had no more money, and, as their unkind looks continued, she asked herself if she had any right to be there.
But the Christmas-tree was ready. A servant came in and closed tightly the shutters, so the room was all dark, and then the parlor-doors were thrown open, and there stood the tall, beautiful tree, with candles of all colors, which wereburning like so many stars, and above it hung the Christ-child, with a smile as of love, and his arms stretched out as he would call them to him. And on the tree were nice gifts, books and toys, pictures, and lace bags, tied with gay ribbons, filled with candies. But Helen, and all the children who had found rich gifts in their stockings that morning, turned indifferently from these, admiring the novelty of the Christmas-tree.
But to the child they had neglected,—the little girl in the cotton gown and coarse, thick shoes, the little Susan,—these gifts, as well as the tree, were very precious; for she had not jumped eagerly from her bed that morning to find rich presents in her stockings, for she did not expect them to be there; she had awoke early to think of the visit to the teacher's house, the sight at the tree, and the gifts it should bear for her and Johnny.
So she prized her gift more than all!
When the children saw how carefully she put the little bags of sweetmeats in her pocket, instead of eating them as they did, they laughed among themselves, and said something about her whichwasso crueland so unjust, that I shall not even tell you what it was. They did not know she was saving the candy to eat with Johnny. Then, when she pondered over her little book, in admiration, and held it carefully in her hands, as though she was fearful of stretching it, they said to themselves, she must be very ignorant to care for such a thing. But Susan only shrank off by herself, thankful to have her portion in these things.
After this, came the time when they would bring their offerings for those children who live in the far-off lands, where there is no Christmas; and the children began to wonder if Susan had any money, and to show each other what they had. Then their teacher drew her chair among them, and began to tell them what it really was to wish that others might enjoy what we did; what it was to help them to do so, and be careful not to rob them of one smile.
"This money which you would send to those children, that they may be happy as you are, if it does not tell them of your love, is useless to them. And if, to obtain it, you have, in any way, denied yourself of one little thing, be sure God will lookvery lovingly upon you; and those children, when you meet them in heaven, will put their arms about you, and tell you of their gratitude."
When the teacher said these last words, Susan's lip quivered, and her eye sparkled, for they were words of meaning to her; but they did not affect the other children, for they were words of no meaning to them.
But Susan saw those children in heaven, in her fancy, and Johnny was there, no longer lame and sick; they ran and played over bright fields, and no one laughed at them, or repulsed them, or wore brighter clothes than they. They threw garlands of flowers to each other, and when they laughed the tones of their voices were like music.
Then the teacher called Susan to her side, and Susan put in her hand the two little pieces of silver; and the children, when they saw how carefully they had been wrapped in the bit of paper, exchanged glances, and they who had the most money in their pockets smiled scornfully, as children can, upon one another. The teacher asks Susan how the little money was got, and the child answers in a low tone:
"Please, ma'am, they are Johnny's and mine; we saved them since you told us so long ago."
And the teacher, as she thinks of the lame, sick Johnny, and what those pennies might have bought him—how he had denied himself—feels the tears come into her eyes, and she speaks to the children of Johnny, and tells Susan that when she comes into heaven, she shall certainly see the children she blesses now. But when she calls the others to her, and they show her the money so easily obtained, the teacher will not take it.
"Since you denied yourself not one thing for it, how do I knowlovemade you bring it. And if love did not send it, how could it make the far-off children happy? And how can you love those so far off, when you have all helped to make this Christmas afternoon so unhappy a one to one of the children I invited here with you? If you love not those close by you, you cannot love those at a distance.
She told them how Susan nursed her sick brother; how she read to him, watched over him with cheerful smile and kind love; what she did for her brother's comfort, and she showed themthat the two pieces of silver from Johnny and Susan were really worth more in the sight of God than their silver dollars and gold pieces.
Then she told them a story. When Christ was one day sitting in the temple, he looked upon all those who came to put money in the treasury. Many rich people, with proud airs and haughty hearts, threw in large sums of money; people called them benevolent, and sang loud praises to them.
But Jesus did not call them benevolent, neither did he praise them.
At last came a poor widow, bringing with her two mites, which made one penny. She had saved them of all she had, and humbly, with love in her heart, she threw them into the treasury. What a little, in comparison with what the others had thrown there! and yet Jesus, who before had not spoken, said of her:
"I say unto you, this poor widow hath cast more in than all they which have cast into the treasury. For all they did cast in of their abundance, butshe, of her want, did cast in all that she had, even her living!"
And the teacher was careful to tell them, it was the spirit of love in which the two mites were brought, not simply that they were two mites, which made Christ bless the woman; for if, in the same spirit, she had brought twenty mites, her blessing would have been the same.
The children saw, then, how shameful had been their conduct, and it seemed just to them that the Christ-child should refuse their offerings.
But they asked if they might not give their money to Susan and Johnny?
"No," replied the teacher; "she does not need your money; she could give you nothing in return for it. But, instead, you may give her your love;—that she would like, and can return;—and, by-and-by, when you have learned well your lessons of kindness, give the money where love prompts you."
And, from that time, they began to learn these lessons; they saw how Susan, if her clotheswerecoarse, had in her heart what was worth more than fine clothes, and all the riches which are in the world; and if they would have their gifts acceptable to the Christ-child, they must have such in their hearts!
Susan went home happy—bearing on her arm a basket of grapes and oranges for Johnny, to tell him how the teacher had sent them to him, and that they must be more and more loving and self-denying, since their God would love them.
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Earnest Thornton, the "smart boy" of this story, is a clear headed, well intentioned, plucky boy, that has a high aim and means right even where he is wrong, and his adventures will be read with interest.
FREAKS OF FORTUNE; or, Half around the World,—a sequel to "The Starry Flag." $1.25.
"The adventures of Levi Fairfield, the noble young Captain of the Starry Flag, excited such an interest among the young folks that the continuance of his story was called for, with which demand the ever ready author has complied, with a story equally attractive and interesting."
MAKE OR BREAK; or, the Rich Man's Daughter. $1.25.
"This is a lively, stirring volume, full of interest and instruction from one cover to the other. Just the book a smart, wide-awake boy will enjoy intensely."—Press.
DOWN THE RIVER; or, Buck Bradford and his Tyrants. $1.25.
"These stories are not only written in a manner well calculated to enchain the attention of young readers, but teach at the same time such important lessons of sobriety, industry and cheerfulness, that we should like to see them in the hands of every boy in the land."—Galesburg Free Press.
Sold by all booksellers and newsdealers, and sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price.
LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston.
LEE & SHEPARD'S JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS.
SOPHIE MAY'S BOOKS.
LITTLE PRUDY STORIES.
Six volumes. Illustrated. In Sets or separate. Per volume, 75 cents.
LITTLE PRUDY.LITTLE PRUDY'S Sister Susy.LITTLE PRUDY'S Captain Horace.LITTLE PRUDY'S Cousin Grace.LITTLE PRUDY'S Story Book.LITTLE PRUDY'S Dotty Dimple.
DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES.
By the author of "Little Prudy Stories."
Six volumes. Illustrated. In Sets or separate. Per volume, 75cents.
DOTTY DIMPLE at her Grandmother's.DOTTY DIMPLE at Home.DOTTY DIMPLE out West.DOTTY DIMPLE at Play.DOTTY DIMPLE at School.DOTTY DIMPLE'S Flyaway.
Read the high commendation of theNorth American Review, which places Sophie May's Books at the
Head of Juvenile Literature.
"Genius comes in with 'Little Prudy.' Compared with her, all other book-children are cold creations of Literature only; she alone is the real thing. All the quaintness of childhood, its originality, its tenderness and its teasing,—its infinite, unconscious drollery, the serious earnestness of its fun, the fun of its seriousness, the natural religion of its plays, and the delicious oddity of its prayers,—all these waited for dear Little Prudy to embody them. Sam Weller is not more piquant; Hans Anderson's nutcrackers and knitting-needles are not more thoroughly charged with life. There are six little green volumes in the series, and of course otherdramatis personæmust figure; but one eagerly watches for every reappearance of Prudy, as one watches at the play for Owens or Warren to re-enter upon the stage. Who is our benefactress in the authorship of these books, the world knows not. Sophie May must doubtless be a fancy name, by reason of the spelling, and we have only to be greatful that the author did not inflict on us the customary alliteration in her pseudonyme. The rare gift of delineating childhood is hers, and may the line of 'Little Prudy' go out to the end of the earth.... To those oversaturated with transatlantic traditions we recommend a course of 'Little Prudy,'"
Sold by all booksellers and newsdealers, and sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price.
LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston.
LEE & SHEPARD'S JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS.
VACATION STORY BOOKS.
6 volumes. Each volume handsomely illustrated. 80 cents.
WORTH NOT WEALTH.COUNTRY LIFE.THE CHARM.KARL KEIGLER.WALTER SEYTON.HOLIDAYS AT CHESTNUT HILL.
ROSY DIAMOND STORY BOOKS.
6 volumes. Each volume handsomely illustrated. 80 cents.
THE GREAT ROSY DIAMOND.DAISY; or, The Fairy Spectacles.VIOLET: A Fairy Story.MINNIE; or, The Little Woman.THE ANGEL CHILDREN.LITTLE BLOSSOM'S REWARD.
These volumes are finely and profusely illustrated from designs by Hoppin and other eminent artists. They are elegantly bound, and neatly packed in ornamental boxes. As gifts for holidays and birthdays, where a uniform value and appearance is desired, they are excellent.
Mrs. Madeline Leslie's Books.
PLAY AND STUDY SERIES.
4 volumes. Each volume illustrated. Price, $1.50.
PLAY AND STUDY.THE MOTHERLESS CHILDREN.HOWARD AND HIS TEACHER.JACK, THE CHIMNEY-SWEEP.
LITTLE AGNES' LIBRARY.
4 volumes. Each volume illustrated. Price, $1.50.
LITTLE AGNES.TRYING TO BE USEFUL.I'LL TRY.ART AND ARTLESSNESS.
For family reading and Sabbath School libraries there are no better books written than these by Mrs. Leslie. With attractive and interesting stories are mingled wholesome truths and moral lessons. Of all these books large editions have been printed, and they may be found largely circulated in Sabbath Schools.
Sold by all booksellers and newsdealers, and sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price.
LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston.
LEE & SHEPARD'S JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS.
OLIVER OPTIC'S BOOKS.
RIVERDALE STORY-BOOKS.
Six volumes, profusely illustrated from new designs by Billings. In neat box. Cloth. Per vol., .45.
COMPRISING
Little Merchant. Young Voyagers. Dolly and I. Proud and Lazy. Careless Kate. Robinson Crusoe, Jr.
These little volumes are very interesting and attractive, and they carry a moral with them, which, if heeded, there is no doubt will set Youth in the right direction for its own benefit.
FLORA LEE STORY BOOKS.
Companions to the above. Six volumes, profusely illustrated from new designs by Billings. In neat box. Cloth. Per volume, .45.
COMPRISING
Christmas Gift. Uncle Ben. Birthday Party. The Picnic Party. The Gold Thimble. The Do-Somethings.
These stories are written in "Oliver Optic's" best style, and all are interesting and attractive.
OUR STANDARD BEARER; Or, The Life of Gen'l Ulysses S. Grant: His Youth, His Manhood, His Campaigns, and his eminent Services in the Reconstruction of the Nation his Sword has redeemed. As seen and related by Captain Bernard Galligasken, Cosmopolitan, and written out by Oliver Optic. Illustrated by Thos. Nast. 16mo. Cloth. $1.50.
"This is a book for young men to read; for boys to read; and old men will find their dull blood stirred by its graphic descriptions, its thrilling narrative, and its hearty enthusiasm."—New Bedford Mercury.
THE WAY OF THE WORLD.
By William T. Adams (Oliver Optic). 12mo. $2.00.
"This excellent writer for children has here tried his hand at writing for grown people, and has succeeded admirably."—Times.
"It is long since we have read a more interesting book."—Gazette.
"The Way of the World is a popular story of the intense class, full of thrilling incidents and exciting scenes, such as boys delight to read."—Congregationalist.
Sold by all book-sellers and news-dealers, and sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price.
LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston.
LEE & SHEPARD'S JUVENILE PUBLICATIONS.
OLIVER OPTIC'S BOOKS.
ARMY AND NAVY STORIES.
THE SOLDIER BOY; or, Tom Somers in the Army. 16mo. Illustrated. $1.50.
"This is a story of the rebellion, narrating the adventures of a patriotic youth, who left the comforts of home to share the dangers of the field. He is carried through several battles, and for a while shared the hospitalities of the rebels as a prisoner. The story is true to history, giving in the form of personal adventure correct accounts of many stirring scenes of the war.—Hartford Courant.
THE SAILOR BOY; or, Jack Somers in the Navy. 16mo. Illustrated. $1.50.
"Jack is the brother of Tom, the Soldier Boy, whose adventures in the army were so much enjoyed. We have only to repeat that there are few better stories for boys than these of Mr. Adams'. Always bright and even sparkling with animation, the story never drags; there are no stupid tasks or tiresome descriptions; the boys whose characters are drawn are real boys, impulsive, with superabundant animal life, and the heroes are manly, generous, healthy creations.—Hartford Press.
THE YOUNG LIEUTENANT; or, The Adventures of an Army Officer. 16mo. Illustrated. $1.50
"The Young Lieutenant" is a sequel to "The Soldier Boy," and carries the reader through the stormy scenes of the rebellion, creates Thomas Somers an officer, and as such he performs much difficult work in the rebellion.
YANKEE MIDDY; or, Adventures of a Naval Officer. 16mo. Illustrated. $1.50.
"The incidents of the story are those which have occurred on the ocean, and on the bays, inlets, and rivers of the South, common in the experience of all our naval officers who have been actively employed during the war."—Notices of the Press.
FIGHTING JOE; or, The Fortunes of a Staff Officer. 16mo. Illustrated. $1.50.
"The description of battles and sieges, of picket and skirmishing, of camp life and marching, are wrought out with thrilling detail, making the story truly fascinating; while, in connection with this, useful and practical information respecting men and places is conveyed, and a proper spirit of morality and patriotism inculcated."—Notices of the Press.
BRAVE OLD SALT; or, Life on the Quarter-Deck. 16mo. Illustrated. $1.50.
A book of adventure, of personal experience, describing a living hero, and exhibiting the great truth that, by fidelity of conscience, country, and God, earthly and heavenly blessings are secured.
Sold by all booksellers and newsdealers, and sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price.
LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers, Boston.