St. Nicholas, Vol. 5, No. 5, March, 1878 by Various


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Page 66

CLARENCE SNYDER.


* * * * *


Trenton, N.J.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have read a great many letters in your ST.
NICHOLAS, and I always like to read them, for they are so funny. So
I thought I would write you a letter and tell you about my poor
little cat. It was given me when two weeks old, and I only had it a
month before it died--and, do you believe, I saw it die! It was
taken sick, and I cried awful. I don't know what was the matter
with it, but I think it had the colic, for it lay as quiet as a
mouse; and then it died. Oh, how sorry I was! My friend got a
little box and buried it right under my window, so I could often
think of it. So I hope you will all wish me better luck with my
cats. Be sure and give my love to Jack.--From your little friend,

JENNIE H.


* * * * *


San Francisco, Cal.

DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I have often read in the "Letter-Box" some other
little stories which boys and girls have written.

I will now write about the wire-cable railroads of this city. The
first one constructed was on Clay street, between Kearney street
and Leavenworth street. The road has now been continued out to Van
Ness avenue.

The second was constructed by the Sutter Street R.R. Company from
Sansom street to Larkin street, a distance of one mile.

The best of all the railroads in the city is on California street,
between Kearney and Fillmore streets, a distance of two miles. It
is considered the best built wire-cable road in the United States,
and is owned by the great railroad king of California, Leland
Stanford.

I have a little railroad track seven and a half feet long, with
fifteen feet of string, which I call a cable. The invention of the
gripping attachment is my own.

R.H. BASFORD.


* * * * *


DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: Will you please, for a few moments, imagine
yourself blind, deaf and dumb, so that you may have a fair idea of
the boy about whom I want to tell you?

His name is James Caton. He is fifteen years old and lives in the
Deaf Mute Institution, on the Hudson River, near New York. He was
born deaf and dumb, and two years ago a severe sickness left him
blind. Before this he had learned to read and write, and talk with
his fingers. He uses a pencil and his fingers to ask for what he
wants, and tell you how he feels. People can talk to him by
spelling words with their fingers against the palm of his hand, and
he is so bright and quick that they cannot spell too fast for him.
He is fond of his lessons, but sometimes, in adding a long column
of figures, he makes mistakes that vex him sadly. Only think how
hard it must be to add twenty or thirty large numbers that you
cannot see! But when James finds his temper rising he puts it right
down, calls back his patience, and goes to work more strenuously
than ever. One day, his teacher, a lady, told him the Bible story
of Cain, who killed his brother and became a wanderer. Some time
after, she asked him "Who was Cain?" and he answered, "Cain was a
tramp!" She takes pains to tell him about the great events of the
day, such as the dreadful war between Russia and Turkey, and he
understands this so well that he can describe it with wonderful
effect. He stands out on the floor like an orator, and with the
most graceful, animated and expressive signs and gestures, gives
the positions of the armies, their meeting, the beating of the
drums, the waving of the flags, and the firing of the cannon.
Watching him, one can see the battle-field and all its pomp and
horror.

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