Very little is known of the ancestors of these simple people who dwell among the hills. It is believed they were a worthy, renowned family in their day and generation; but, alas! history has given us all too little of them. It is known that they were born hundreds of years ago, living bright and useful lives in the earliest ages of civilization. History speaks freely of one who may have been the great-great-grandfather of the present Hes (much less is known of the Shes), and while speaking of him forgets not to take his travelling artist along to sketch him. This n.o.ble ancestor is Mr. Zaccheus He, and he is in the act of performing the feat that saves his name from utter oblivion. The deed is made doubly impressive by the travelling artist sketching the same. The poet too lends his sublime aid to render the act one never to be forgotten.

In the present age of the world, many parents, from some deep-seated prejudice, strive to blot out this unpretending family entirely; but little children with tearful eyes bring the Historian, the Artist, and the Poet at once to the rescue, exclaiming, "Then why does the book say,

"Zaccheus He Did climb the tree?'"

CHIN-FAN, THE CANTON BOAT-BOY.

BY THOMAS W. KNOX.

How many readers of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE are aware that in China, on the other side of the world, there are thousands and thousands of boys and girls that live in boats? There is a great city in China called Canton, and at this city there is a river which is so crowded with boats that it is not easy to get around among them. They are not large boats like the great steamers on American rivers, and they do not have comfortable rooms where you can sleep as well as in a bed on sh.o.r.e. Some of them are so small that they can only hold three or four persons, and there is no s.p.a.ce for walking around; but these three or four must live there from day to day and from week to week, and if they ever go on sh.o.r.e at all, it is only for a few minutes at a time. A whole family will often be found living on a boat which we would hardly think large enough to cross in from one side of the Hudson River to the other. They cook and eat and sleep on the boat, and they manage to earn a little money by carrying pa.s.sengers over the river, or doing other work. The kitchen where they do their cooking is only a little heap of coals that a man might put in his hat, and it rests on a box of sand about a foot square. When there are any pa.s.sengers on board, they sit under an awning in the front part of the boat, and the children are kept in a sort of well, like a dry-goods box, near the stern, but at other times they can run or creep about the deck. The smaller children are secured by means of cords tied around their waists, so as to save them in case they fall overboard. Sometimes the cord that holds a baby is fastened to the side of the boat, and sometimes it is tied to a stick of wood that serves as a float to keep him from sinking. The latter mode is generally preferred, as the baby has more freedom, and can drag himself along the deck where he likes. It is very common to see infants crawling around in this way, and it is surprising how soon they learn to keep out of danger. A Chinese child has only to fall overboard once or twice to make up his mind to keep away from the side of the boat as much as possible.

One day a baby was creeping around the deck of one of these Canton boats, and wondering how he should amuse himself. He looked over the side, and as the sun was shining, and reflecting his face in the water, he thought he discovered a new baby that would be a nice playmate for him. His mother was in the forward part of the boat, and busy at the oars, and his father was working on a ship that lay in the harbor. So this baby, whose name was Chin-Fan, was quite alone, and could do as he pleased. He felt lonesome, and when he saw the strange child in the water, he smiled at him, and wanted to make his acquaintance. The strange baby smiled in reply; and then Chin-Fan held out his chubby little hand to lift him out of the water. Of course the other one held up a hand to meet him, but he could not reach far enough. Then Chin-Fan reached down, while the stranger reached up, and pretty soon Chin-Fan lost his balance, and tumbled into the water.

Wasn't he in a dangerous place? His mother did not know what had happened, and she kept on rowing the boat right away from where the poor little fellow was struggling and trying to keep from being drowned. An American baby would have screamed and sunk, but Chin-Fan was not American, and so he did nothing of the sort. He dropped all thoughts of the strange baby, and considered n.o.body but himself; he managed to get hold of the billet of wood to which his cord was fastened, and by holding on firmly he kept his head out of water. The current of the river carried him along, and very luckily it carried him to where a ship was anch.o.r.ed, with her great cable sloping down the stream. He struck against this cable, and as he did so, he let go of the billet, so that it went one side of the cable, while Chin-Fan went the other. Then he took hold of the cable with both his chubby hands, and next he screamed as loud as his little lungs would let him.

A sailor on the bow of the ship heard the scream, and was not long in finding that it came from the cable. Chin-Fan kept it up until he was rescued, and just about the time he was taken on board the ship he was missed by his mother. She came paddling down the river in search of him, and shouted to everybody she met that her baby was missing. The sailor held little Chin-Fan up so that she could see him, and in a very short time he was back in his place on the deck of the boat.

For a good while after that incident Chin-Fan kept at a respectful distance from the side of the boat, and he did not show any desire to make the acquaintance of strange babies in the water. His mother taught him how to swim, and he became a boatman at Canton, and afterward he was a sailor on one of the great steamers that run between San Francisco and China. He did a great many brave things in and on the water, and his mother was very proud of him; she said she always knew he would be a famous sailor, when he showed so much good sense and coolness at the time of his first plunge.

THE STORY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON.

BY EDWARD CARY.

CHAPTER I.

One hundred and fifty years ago a st.u.r.dy, hard-working farmer lived near the southern bank of the Potomac River, in what was then the English colony of Virginia. On the 22d day of February, 1732, a son was born in the modest farm-house, who afterward came to be the most famous, and one of the n.o.blest, of Americans. His name was George Washington. He grew up a healthy, hardy boy, quiet in his ways, fond of study, and still more fond of out-door sport. His playmates loved him because he was fair and generous, and looked up to him as a leader, because he had a way of doing what he set out to do.

George's father died when he was only eleven years old, but his mother proved a good care-taker for him. She was a bright-minded woman, gentle but firm, and George always loved her dearly.

At the age of seventeen he began to earn his own living as a surveyor.

It was no light work in those days, for the country where he had most to do was in the backwoods. Many a day he trudged through the forest from dawn to sunset, and lay down at night with nothing but a blanket between him and the stormy sky. But he was faithful and careful, and got plenty of work.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BIRTH-PLACE OF WASHINGTON.]

From early boyhood Washington had a strong liking for a soldier's life.

He used to train his school-mates as soldiers, was an eager student of drill and tactics, expert in the use of the sword, and a skillful horseman. At that time the Indians swarmed through the forest in the back country, and were often urged on by the French (who claimed the Ohio and Mississippi valleys as their own) to attack the whites. So the colony of Virginia had to keep a good many men under arms to protect the homes and the lives of the people. When Washington was about twenty-two years old he became a Major in this little army, and devoted a great deal of time and hard work to training his men.

In 1755 the French and Indians became so troublesome that quite a large army was sent over from England to clear the borders of them. General Braddock was at their head, and he asked Washington to go with him, with the rank of Colonel, as one of his aides; that is, to be always with him, and help him with advice, or in carrying orders, and in any way he could. The gallant young officer was glad to go. The English General did not know much about fighting in the woods, and his slow and stately march toward the Ohio did not suit Washington's ideas, for he knew that nothing could be done against the French unless it was done swiftly.

When the army neared the French fort, at what is now Pittsburgh, Washington, who was on his back in an ambulance, sick with fever, insisted on going to the front, for he knew there would soon be fighting, and hard fighting, too. The fighting began before it was looked for. The British troops crossed the Monongahela River, and marched up a wooded hollow toward the French fort. As they swept up the hollow in close ranks, with gay red uniforms and gleaming arms, there suddenly blazed upon them, from unseen guns on every side, a murderous fire, before which they shrank quickly back. Startled, but not cowed, their officers rallied them again and again; but they could not see the enemies whose fire was mowing them down, and they slowly and in great disorder tried to get back across the river.

General Braddock was mortally wounded. More than half the army were killed or wounded. Colonel Washington behaved "with the greatest courage and resolution." He rode from point to point carrying orders, and seemed reckless of death. "I had four bullets through my coat," he wrote to his brother, "and two horses shot under me, yet I escaped unhurt, although death was levelling my companions on every side of me."

Fifteen years later an old Indian, who was in the fight on the French side, told him that he had fired at him many times, and ordered his young warriors to do so. None of the shots. .h.i.t, and the Indians, thinking the young officer was under the special care of the Great Spirit, ceased to fire at him.

After this battle, Colonel Washington was kept in bed for four long months with a fever, which was made worse by his exposure on the battle-field. He had little more hard fighting to do, but he learned many a good lesson from the war--especially to rely on himself, and to study his own way out of any troubles that he met. His fame went, too, to the other colonies, and the young Colonel of Militia was becoming known as a man on whose courage and faithfulness and sound good sense it would do for his country to lean in time of trial.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

PUCK AND BLOSSOM.

From the German of Marie Von Olfers.

PART I.

Once upon a time Puck and his little sister Blossom lived together in a great big egg.

"It's too close in here," said Puck: "let's go and see how it looks outside." Bang! went his head, right through the wall.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Outside it was raining, so he drew back his head in a hurry; but the rain came pattering in after him. "Oh, my doodness!" moaned Blossom, "is _that_ how it is outside? Now we shall det wet to the skin."

"Come," said Puck, "let's go find us another house; it'll be better by-and-by."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

So they went, and they went, till they came to old Mother Bee, who lived with her children in the leafy house of the linden-tree.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Oh, come in," said she; "but you must sit quite still, or else my children will sting you. As for me, I must go and gather honey."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

For a little while they sat quite still. "Sister Blossom," said Puck, "it's too close in here. I must go see where they keep the honey." He was starting off that very minute, but all the Bee children flew up in such a rage, and fastened themselves upon Puck and Blossom, that they got away, they hardly knew how.

"I didn't even det a taste of their old honey, and I'm all stung up,"

sobbed Blossom.

"Never mind," said Puck, comfortingly, "it'll be better by-and-by."

On the meadow whom should they meet but Master Stork. "Oh, take us with you up to your nest!" cried Puck. Master Longlegs, being quite willing, quickly s.n.a.t.c.hed up the children in his long bill, and set them down in his nest.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Sit still," said he, "then you'll have plenty of room."