Said the Flapdoodle: 'I Do not like to fly; I think I'll go back on the cars.'

"So a railroad was rapidly built, And they wrapped him all up in a quilt; For the Flapdoodle said: 'If I stick out my head I fear that I'll somehow get kilt!'

"The railroad train whizzed very fast, But they landed him safely at last; And through future years He related, with tears, The dangers through which he had pa.s.sed."

"Oh, that's the best of all!" said Midget; "I love that kind of funny verses. Isn't Uncle Steve clever to write like that! Any more, King?"

"Yes, one more. It isn't about animals, but it's a sort of a nonsense poem, too. It's called 'A Queer Hospital.'

"There's a hospital down on Absurdity Square, Where the queerest of patients are tended with care.

"When I made them a visit I saw in a crib A little Umbrella who had broken his rib.

"And then I observed in the very next bed A bright little Pin who had b.u.mped his poor head.

"They said a new cure they'd decided to try On an old Needle, totally blind in one eye.

"I was much interested, and soon I espied A Shoe who complained of a st.i.tch in her side.

"And a sad-looking patient who seemed in the dumps Was a Clock, with a swell face because of the mumps.

"Then I tried very hard, though I fear 'twas in vain To comfort a Window who had a bad pane.

"And I paused just a moment to cheerily speak With a pale Cup of Tea who was awfully weak.

"As I took my departure I met on the stair A new patient, whom they were handling with care, A victim perhaps of some terrible wreck-- 'Twas a Squash who had fatally broken his neck."

"This is the nicest _Jolly Sandboy_ paper we've had yet," said Tom, as King finished.

"Yes, it is," agreed Marjorie. "But I thought Kit wrote some of it, King."

"She did. I'll read hers now. It's an alphabet, all about us down here.

Kitty wrote it, but she says Uncle Steve helped her a little bit with some of the lines. It's called 'The Seacote Alphabet.'

"A is the Automobile we all love.

B is the Boat in the water we shove.

C is the Coast that stretches along.

D is for d.i.c.k, our Sandow so strong.

E's cousin Ethel, so sweet and refined.

F, Father Maynard, indulgent and kind.

G, Grandma Sherwood, who dresses in drab.

H is for Hester and Harry Sand Crab.

I, for Ice Cream, the Maynards' mainstay.

J, Cousin Jack, always ready to play.

K is for King, and for Kitty, (that's me).

L is for Lakewood, where I went to sea.

M, Mother Maynard, and Marjorie, too.

N for Nurse Nannie, who has lots to do.

O for the Ocean, with big breakers bold.

P for the Pier, where candy is sold.

Q for Queen Sandy, in regal array.

R, Rosy Posy, so dainty and gay.

S is for Seacote, and Sand Court beside.

T is for Tom, the trusty and tried.

U, Uncle Steve, who's helping me write.

V for these Verses we send you to-night.

W, the Waves, that dash with such fuss.

X the Excitement when one catches us.

Y for You Youngsters, I've given your names.

Z is the Zeal you show in your games."

"My! isn't that scrumptious!" exclaimed Hester. "You're a terribly smart family, Marjorie."

"Oh, I don't know," said Midget, modestly. "Kit's pretty clever at writing rhymes, but King and I can't do it much. We make up songs sometimes, but Kitty makes the best ones."

"I wish I could do it," said Ruth; "but I couldn't write a rhyming thing at all."

"Well, that's all there is in _The Jolly Sandboy_ this week," said King.

"I didn't write any myself, and the things you others gave me, I've saved for next week. Now, shall we go and celebrate Pocahontas'

birthday?"

"Is it really her birthday?" asked Ruth.

"No, we're just pretending it is. But you see, poor Poky never had her birthday celebrated; I mean,--not legally, like Washington,--so we're going to give her a chance."

The Sand Club trooped up to the house, and found Cousin Jack waiting for them. He was a little surprised to see Hester, but he greeted her pleasantly, and Hester looked so meek and mild, one would hardly believe she had a high temper at all. A wigwam had been built on the lawn, and though it was only a few poles covered with blankets, it looked very Indian and effective.

The Maynards had contrived costumes for all, and in a few moments the girls had on gay-fringed skirts and little shawls, with gaudy headdresses, and the boys had a nondescript Indian garb, and wonderful feathered headpieces, that hung grandly down their backs like Big Chiefs.

Also they had pasteboard tomahawks, and Cousin Jack taught them a war-whoop that was truly ear-splitting.

"First," said Mr. Bryant, "we'll all sing the Blue Juniata, as that is a pretty Indian song, and so, sort of appropriate to Pocahontas."

So they all sang it, with a will, and the song of "The Indian Girl, Bright Alfarata," was, in a way, a tribute to Pocahontas.

"Now," Mr. Bryant went on, "some one must tell the story of Pocahontas.

Harry, will you do it?"

But the Sand Crab was too shy to speak in public, so Cousin Jack asked Ruth to do it.

"I don't know it very well," said Ruth, "but I guess it was like this: Captain John Smith was about to be tommyhawked all to pieces by admiring Indians. As the fell blows were about to fell, up rushes a beautiful Indian maiden, with her black hair streaming in the breeze. 'Fear thou not!' she said, wildly; 'I will save thee!' Whereupon she flang herself upon him, and hugged him till he couldn't be reached by his tormentors.

The wild Indians were forced to desist, or else pierce to the heart their own Pocahontas, beloved daughter of their tribe. So they released Captain John Smith, and so Pocahontas married Captain John Rolfe instead, and they lived happy ever after. Hence is why we celebrate her birthday."

Ruth clearly enjoyed the telling of this tale, and threw herself into it with dramatic fervor.

The others listened, enthralled by her graphic recital and thrilling diction.

"My!" exclaimed Midget, as she finished, "I didn't know you knew so many big words, Ruth."