This Department is conducted in the interest of Girls and Young Women, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the subject so far as possible. Correspondents should address Editor.
Vacation is almost over. Indeed, for some of you school has already begun again, and I like to fancy you as taking up your studies with renewed zest and ardor.
"The rich air is sweet with the breath of September,
The sumach is staining the hedges with red;
Soft rests on the hill-slopes the light we remember,
The glory of days which so long ago fled,
When, brown-cheeked and ruddy,
Blithe-hearted and free.
The summons to study
We answered with glee.
Listen! oh, listen! once more to the swell
Of the masterful, merry Academy bell."
This stanza describes the feelings of grown people, mothers and aunties, and grandmothers, who used to go to school, and have now arrived at the stage on the road where the mile-stones are inscribed "Remember." You have not yet come in sight of these mile-stones. Yours are still marked with "Hope," "Onward," "Courage," and similar cheery words.
If I were a girl again, and could go to school, I would be careful, at least I think I would be careful, not to lose any time. Yours is foundation-work, and it is very important that this should be, because the habits of care and diligence you are forming in your class-rooms will help you through your whole lives. It is really less what you study than the way you study it which is the main thing to be considered now.
A girl at school cannot, of course, always be provided with every appliance for her work, but, as a rule, she ought to have her own books, her own pads, pencils, ink-eraser, crayons, drawing-paper, penknife, and whatever else she needs in order to do her work, so that she is under no necessity to borrow from her friends. What would you think of a carpenter who came to your house without tools, and had to ask the loan of some? or a doctor who forgot his prescription-book or his medicines, and had to lose time and pains until he could send around to an acquaintance and procure others, while his patient was waiting to be relieved? Have your tools, girls, and keep them in order, and, if you must sometimes lend, exact a speedy return, politely and gently, but firmly, for we must sometimes insist on our rights, and then just as firmly resolve not to borrow unless the circumstances are exceptional. Have your own tools.
School-books should be laid aside as you leave them for other and more advanced books, neither given away nor parted with out of the family, though you may allow a younger sister or brother to use them, if you choose. By-and-by you may be glad to have your school-books to refer to, and you will find that they are as useful as much larger volumes, and easier to keep at hand; they have been prepared by learned and thoughtful experts, and have the advantage of being carefully condensed. After your school-life is over you will very much enjoy the possession of a shelf full of text-books, once your daily companions.
Your teachers will tell you of histories, books of travel, poems, and novels which they would like you to read outside of your regular work. Time spent in this way is very pleasant, so do not shirk your supplementary reading. Do not, in fact, shirk anything. School days are such happy days that they ought to be free from any omissions of which conscience will have a right to complain.
Your dearest friend, and the next and next dearest, are at school with you, and what pleasures you share, what ambitions, what confidences! Do not let any stupid person laugh at you for being enthusiastic about your friend; you have a beautiful time with her, and she has with you and if any one makes fun of it, she shows that she has forgotten how girls feel. Mothers never consider their daughter's friendships as matters of small importance, and usually they love Marcia's and Edith's friends almost as dearly as the girls themselves do. Be sure to have friends whom you are proud to introduce to the dear mother, who is a girl's very truest friend, when all is said.
May I speak to you now about something else? All this summer I have been travelling twice a day on a suburban train. Early in the morning I have hit the beautiful mountains, and, whirling through pleasant villages and thriving towns, finally skirting lovely meadows and broad marsh-lands, I have come to this busy, bustling city of New York. In the afternoon I have gone back over the same way, leaving the city behind me, and returning to the beautiful country in the hills in time to see the lingering sunset. From day to day, through the car windows, I have had glimpses of the most beautiful flowers. This morning the meadows and swamps were gorgeous with the bloom of the marshmallow—a vivid, blushing pink. I have never seen so many wild roses in my life as this summer, nor such acres of daisies in the day of them, and now the whole country is gay and glowing with our beautiful American flower, the golden-rod. My views through the car windows have been charming, but inside the car I have sometimes observed what was very much less pleasant to see. For example, on a warm afternoon a young girl will calmly take a whole seat, when she is entitled only to half of it, piling her bags and bundles on the other half, on the shady-side of the car too; then, becoming absorbed in a book, she will pay no heed to the needs of other people, who have to seat themselves in the sun. The other day a girl persisted in keeping a window open, though this was evidently to the great discomfort of an elderly gentleman, unmistakably an invalid, who was sitting quite near. Do not let us fail in small courtesies on the road of life. We shall be much happier at the end of the day if we have always been polite and kind to every one whom we have met.
None of the animals paid the slightest attention to Tommy and the ex-Pirate when they came down from their uncomfortable perch on the rafter, and strolled about the big room. The Gopher, probably emboldened by his neighbors' action, descended too, and mingled with the other beasts. But, for some reason, he managed to remain within sight of Tommy and the ex-Pirate, so that if anything bad happened to him he could have run to them for protection or assistance. Occasionally he joined them and conversed for a few moments, and then he would wander off again by himself.
"I guess they take us for a pair of animals," observed Tommy, as he glanced about at the peaceful beasts. "Some new kind," he added.
"That must be it," said the ex-Pirate, absent-mindedly; "but I wish we could find the Sheep."
"In this crowd?" exclaimed the Gopher, who came up at that moment. "Why, that's like looking for a beetle in a smoke-stack."
The three walked along for some time in silence, and they saw all sorts of queer things as they went. In a retired corner the Hippopotamus was shaving himself with a razor-backed Hog, much to the displeasure of the Hog, who kept up a perpetual snorting and grunting. Near by an old mother Pig was putting her little Pigs' tails up in curl-papers for the night. Further along the Armadillo, the Turtles, the Hedgehog, and the Porcupine, squatted on the floor together, were playing dominoes. A Leopardlike creature sat near by watching the game, looking very much disappointed and mournful.
"They won't let him play," volunteered the Gopher, "because he's a Cheetah."
All this time there was much bustle and preparation going on in the middle of the hall. The Monkey tribe, of which there must have been a hundred, were bringing up tables and stools and benches from down below somewhere, and were stretching these out the entire length of the big room. They made a banqueting board much longer than Tommy had ever seen before, and then they laid plates and mugs along the edges, enough to accommodate all. The Monkeys made first-rate waiters, and the big Gorillas bossed them around, and kept them working "just like real waiters in a restaurant," thought Tommy.
"There's the Sheep!" shouted the ex-Pirate, suddenly, and he pointed out their old friend sitting on a bench about a third of the way down from the head of the long table. They hastened toward him, followed by the Gopher, who was doubtless afraid of being crowded out, for the animals were taking seats rapidly.
The Sheep was overjoyed when the ex-Pirate sat down beside him, and he moved up closer to his neighbor on the other side so as to make room for Tommy and the Gopher. The little boy sat on the bench with the ex-Pirate on his left, and the Gopher on a high stool at his right. The Lion and Lioness occupied the head of the table, some distance away, and the Bull sat at the foot.
"I have been looking all over for you," began the Sheep, "but you were so well concealed I could not find you. Where did you pick up that Gopher?"
"Oh, he's all right," answered the ex-Pirate. "He's got his ticket inside."
The Gopher almost fell off his stool. He whispered to Tommy, "Tell him not to talk about my ticket."
But before Tommy could deliver the message, the Monkeys began bringing the soup in on trays, and placed a plate full in front of each one at table. The Gopher seized his plate and lifted it greedily to his face and swallowed all at one gulp. Then he threw the plate under the table, and began snapping his fingers loudly, just as if he had not been served at all.
"You must not do that," remonstrated Tommy.
"Oh yes, I must," said the Gopher. And then he held up both hands and snapped all fingers.
"What dreadful table manners the Gopher has," said the little boy to the ex-Pirate. "Did you see what he did?"
"Yes," answered the latter. "It was very reprehensible. Worse than anything I ever saw. Worse than the Bishop of Shinnikoree."
"The Arch-Bishop," put in the Sheep.
"Arch-Bishop nothing," retorted the ex-Pirate. "He was only a Bishop."
"But he is an Arch-Bishop now," persisted the Sheep.
"He's dead now," retorted the ex-Pirate.
"Yes; and they carved him in stone, and put him up over the entrance of the Cathedral, and so he is an Arch-Bishop, ain't he?"
"Well, I suppose so. Anyhow, he was mighty queer at table."
"You never told me about the Bishop before," said Tommy.
"I know it," answered the ex-Pirate. "But if I had the third volume of my collected poems here, I could read to you about him. He was dreadful. Worse than the Gopher."
"Can't you remember about him?" pleaded the little boy.
"Part, I guess. Let me see," and the ex-Pirate reflected in silence for a moment. Then he began:
"There once was a Bishop
Who tossed every dish up
The moment he sat down to table;
At juggling with plates
Full of apples and dates
He was really exceedingly able.
"He would stand on his head
When he buttered his bread,
And his neighbors he gayly would banter,
While he gave a wild whoop
At the sight of pea soup
Which was served in a cut-glass decanter.
"With fish-balls and prunes,
And fresh macaroons,
The Bishop was likewise quite clever;
To pile them up high,
And swallow them dry,
Was his constant consistent endeavor.
"He could drink salad oil
By the pint, and not spoil
The perfect success of digestion;
And having well dined,
And copiously wined,
He could turn a handspring without question."
"Goodness," commented Tommy. "Where did you say he bishoped?"
"At Shinnikoree," answered the ex-Pirate.
"I did not hear that last verse," broke in the Gopher, swallowing his sixth plate of soup. "Can't you recite it again?"
"No, I cannot," replied the ex-Pirate, severely. "If you don't look out I'll write a piece about you."
This seemed to frighten the Gopher, for he snapped his fingers again and took another plate of soup.
Last week this Department discussed the preparatory work and training of football-players; in this issue I want to speak briefly of team-play. The American game has now become such that team-work is its most important feature. Brilliant individual players are valuable, and every captain should be glad to have as many as he can get; but I should much prefer to captain an eleven made up of inferior players who worked well together, than a team of brilliant individuals who played each for himself. Walter Camp says that "team-work is the road to victory," and he ought to know. It is plain that if you have eleven men working as one, and directing all their force against a single point, you have a much more formidable engine than if the individuals making up the team are doing their best according to their own conceptions of the requirements of the situation.
There is a greater opportunity for team-work in defensive than in aggressive play. The former affords an excellent chance for the placing of the men so that they can concentrate their efforts to the best advantage in the resistance of the opponents' play. The captain decides beforehand who shall go through to tackle behind the line, who shall wait to see where the ball is coming through, and then block the runner, who shall wait back of the line as a reserve force, only to act if the ball is carried into his territory. There is also always plenty of opportunity for team-play in the working together of several rush-line men in the defense, as, for instance, when two or three block off the attack's interference while another tackles the man with the ball.
The best team-work in the rush-line, however, is to be obtained by the playing together of the centre and his two guards. It is absolutely necessary that these men should act like a machine, with precision and celerity, for they are the keystone of the whole team. They should not only have a perfect understanding among one another, but with the men behind them. They must watch the opposing backs, and try to let their own rear men through upon them wherever a certain defense for certain plays may seem best. The ends and tackles form another division of the rush-line which acts as a unit. It is the business of these men to stop the runs around the ends, of course, but now that the development of the game has brought in so many rushes through the line, between tackle and end, or tackle and guard, the four end men must play into one another's hands in the tackling of opponents and in the blocking of holes that the men opposite are trying to make.
The men back of the line must also have a perfect understanding among themselves as to what each one will do in certain emergencies. As in chess, they must have one or more "defenses" for known attacks, and they must know which one of these defenses it is best to use under given conditions. The backs supplement the work of the forwards in defensive play against rush-line work, but the conditions are reversed in resisting a kick. Against a kick the backs are the main defense—that is, the team as a whole depends upon one of the four men back of the line to make the next play, and each man of the four must know as soon as the kick is made which one is to get the ball. In the defense against a kick, therefore, the rushers supplement the work of the backs.
When I say that the rush-line supplements the work of the backs, I do not mean that their efforts are to be considered in any way secondary. At the beginning of a kick play it has been their work to hold the opposing line as long as possible in order to keep the attacking forwards off their own men, who are engaged in receiving and handling the kick. Frequently the ends take an important part in the defense against a kick by coming back with their opponents, bothering them as much as possible, and being always ready to block or interfere for their own back should he see a good opportunity open for a run.
Now that the rules have been amended so as to require actual kicks, it is interesting to note some of the new plays that have been adopted to give the rushers the opportunity to get possession of the ball again as quickly as possible. Last year the big college teams tried all sorts of expedients to achieve this end. One method put to the test was to kick the ball against the opponents with sufficient force to insure its bounding back out of the immediate reach of the man whom it struck. This method, although it sometimes worked, is hardly a satisfactory one, and will probably be used only as an occasional trick in unimportant games this year. Another experiment was a rolling kick between the rushers, but in a diagonal direction so extreme as to give an end or a tackle a chance of securing it.
In the same manner a diagonal kick, short, over the heads of the first men of the opponents, was exploited by some of the adventurous captains. But toward the end of the season the problem narrowed itself down to a question of the relative value of a kick, short enough, and in a sufficiently high slanting direction, to enable the rushers to get fairly well down to its falling-point, and a long kick driving the opponents back, admitting, it is true, of a run in because the rushers cannot reach the dropping-point in time to down the man receiving the ball. Both methods found strong advocates, and were used in about equal proportions.
And then as to the returning of the kick. Until the rules were changed "returning a kick" meant catching the punt of an opponent, and, without stopping for a down, punting it back again before the opponents could prevent. Naturally this was, among the big teams, much more talk than practice, for it was a rare exception when such an opportunity offered. With the new kick-off, however, there is certainly an excellent chance for a return kick. A man can make the most of his run in, and just before the opponents meet him he can get in his kick, if that is his play.
Another interesting matter is the distribution of the men on the line-up for the kick-off, and it gives ample room for the ingenuity of coaches and captains. One effective placing of the men is this:
| o C | ||||||||
| LG o | o RG | |||||||
| LT o | o RT | |||||||
| o QB | ||||||||
| LE o | o RE | |||||||
| o | o | o | ||||||
| HB | FB | HB |
As the ball comes sailing over, the forwards swing into its direction, and become most effective running interference for whichever back catches and runs with the ball. This play, if frequently practised, can be made very effective.
In defensive team-work one of the most important things—next to watching the ball, of course—is for every man to try to discover what play the opposing eleven is going to make next. Having found what it will probably be, their endeavor must be to throw their whole force against it. It is frequently possible to determine not only what the enemy's probable move will be, but exactly what it will be. This can most frequently be done by noting how the half-backs stand, or how the quarter-back is standing or looking. Men will unconsciously glance in the direction they are about to run. If a rusher is to take the ball, it is easier to note that fact than when the leather is going to a half-back, because the rusher is bound to assume a somewhat different position from that he would take if he were only going to block, or make a hole, or break through.
As soon as the captain or any other player discovers, or feels reasonably confident that he has discovered, what the next play of the opposing team is going to be, he should impart the information to the rest of the team. He should try to do this as secretly as possible, however, or else the opponents will have time to change their signal and make an entirely different advance. It is in a case like this that quick work counts, for if you line up and give your signal quickly the opposing players can scarcely have time to notice the many little points that give away the next move, and so it is harder for them to meet it.
Quick play is essential to successful and effective team-work. After a scrimmage and a down, play should begin at once, i.e., just as soon as the centre can secure the ball. Every man in the rush-line and all the backs should be in their positions without the slightest loss of time after they are sure the man who was running is down, and all should be alert for the signal for the next play, which is given during the line-up. Nothing should ever be allowed to interfere with this rapid resumption of positions except a serious injury, and then the injured player should call to his captain for time. Any delay, even by one man, might spoil the next play, and thus injure the chances of the whole team.
And now for a few words about aggressive play. In this, team-work is fully as important as in the defense, and in some cases more so. With the majority of football elevens team-work in aggression is much better done and more fully developed than in defensive play, but it is the team that can offer the best organized defense—all other things being equal—that will stand the better chance of success. The chief aggressive move now in use, and the one that has been most widely adopted by football-players in the past five years, is the interference wedge. This play reached such a stage of development in Harvard's flying wedge, three years ago, that it was the main cause for the latest revision of the rules of the game. But the old interference wedge is a perfectly legitimate football formation, and can be made effective without being dangerous.
The formation of the men for this play, as every one knows, is that of a V, with the point directed toward the opposing line. The man who is to run with the ball stands inside the two walls of humanity formed by his mates, and it should be his endeavor to keep on running even after the original wedge formation has been destroyed by the resistance of the opponents. The latter, of course, never know what the runner's intention may be, whether to rush out at the apex, or through one of the sides, or to dodge out backwards and attempt a long run around the end. Consequently they cannot devote their entire force toward one point, and the possibilities of gaining ground are thus increased in the favor of the runner.
It is not well, however, for the runner to use his own discretion as to the manner in which he shall escape from the wedge after it has come against the opposing line. Team-work is invariably injured and weakened when one player holds discretionary power in a mass play. It is best to decide beforehand where the runner will break through, and have it understood by two of the rushers that they are responsible for a hole. Of course, the runner should not always pass out between the same pair. There should be variations in the play, and the Captain should decide when the line-up is made just which hole to use, judging of this from the appearance of the opposite line-up, and selecting the point of egress where he thinks there will be the weakest resistance. As a rule, it is best to use the wedge only when the opponents are restrained from advancing, as in the kick-off, the kick-out, and after a fair catch, but some of the larger college teams have of late been adopting the trick after ordinary downs. In the Harvard-Yale game of 1891, Yale, with the score 12 to 0 against her, worked a wedge from the middle of the field to the goal-line and scored. Every play was a wedge that pounded the Harvard centre, and won a few feet each time, and at the ten-yard line the quarter-back, instead of pounding, as he had been for twenty minutes, ran back and went around the end for a touch-down. But such continual wedging as that should be adopted only in the most desperate case, and could never be successful except when played by a thoroughly disciplined team in the best of physical condition. Even so, it was a severe strain on the players' staying powers.
A well-formed wedge is bound to make some gain for the side using it, but there are many ways of meeting the play. The most simple, and the one which is probably used more than any other, is that of lying down before it. There is nothing very scientific about this kind of defense, but it has the compensating advantage of effectiveness in most cases. It prevents any further advance of the mass, for the men at the peak are forced to fall over their prostrate opponents. The danger of using too many men for this sort of blocking, however, is that should the runner escape through a hole in the side, or at the opening in the rear, there are few players left to tackle him.
There are the backs, of course, upon whom this duty of tackling the runner should devolve, but rapid and judicious interference at the proper moment may overcome their efforts, and give to the enemy a clear field. Perhaps the safest way to meet an on-coming wedge is to try to force the peak—that is, to so concentrate your resistance as to change the course of the aggressors and drive them across the field. They are thus exerting just as much of their strength as if they were advancing, and yet are gaining little or no ground. Some of the other methods I have seen used are breaking into the peak by main strength (and this is the method usually adopted against a weaker team); and sending a man over the heads of the leaders, a kind play of which Heffelfinger of Yale was the best exponent.
The best team-play to defeat the object of a kick is still a matter of dispute. There are so many possibilities in the case and so many different directions for the ball to take that, after all, no method can be determined upon beforehand as the best defense. But every team should be provided with several moves for such occasions, and as usual it devolves upon the captain to decide which play to put in operation.
A very good way is to send one or two extra men up into the forward line (the quarter-back and a half-back, preferably), and then to attack the kicking side at any point along which the ball travels in its course. In other words, put as many men forward as you can with the object of securing the ball as soon after it is put into play as possible—while it is being snapped back to the quarter, while it is on its way to the half, while the half is catching it, while he is preparing to kick, while he is kicking, and just as it leaves his foot.
If the kick is safely made, every endeavor should go toward neutralizing its effect. This can be done by good and rapid team-play only, for, after all, the longest kick is of no great avail to your opponent unless he can keep the ball in the territory he has sent it into. The first thing to do, therefore, to neutralize his attack is to stop the opposing ends who are following the ball, and the next important thing is to give full and perfect protection to your own man, who is receiving the ball. It depends upon the style of the kick, however, as to which of these two moves is of the greatest importance, for if the kick is a high one little can be done against the on-coming ends, and every effort should be made to protect the catcher. On the other hand, if the kick is a long and low one, the catcher will need less protection, and more men can be spared to head off the advance of the opposing rush-line.
The final point of the play is the return of the ball, and on the quickness and coolness of the back depends its success. As a rule it is better for him to run with the ball, for the field is scattered with players, and comparatively clear, and by running the side retains possession of the ball and the chance to make one or more attacking moves that may end in a full recovery of the ground covered by the opponents' kick.
The Graduate.
"You ought to be ashamed to ride that wheel."
"Why? That's what it's made for."
"Can't you see that it's 'tired'?"
This Department is conducted in the interest of stamp and coin collectors, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on these subjects so far as possible. Correspondents should address Editor Stamp Department.
The Numismatist states that only 738 U. S. silver dollars were coined in 1894, and that it bids fair to rival its hundred-year older brother (1794) in rarity and value.
The National Bank-Note Company printed all the U.S. stamps from 1870 to 1872. In 1873 they turned over all the plates to the Continental Bank-Note Company which printed the U.S. stamps until the formation of the American Bank-Note Company in 1879. To distinguish the stamps printed by them, the Continental Company placed secret marks on probably every plate, although there is still some doubt as to the secret marks on the 15c. and 30c. stamps. The distinguishing marks are as follows:
1 Cent.—A minute dash with ends up-turned placed in the pearl at the left of the numeral of value. Proof specimens show a faint trace on the ball to the right of the numeral. The balls in the original are all white.
2 Cents.—The white line which encloses the words "U. S. Postage" turns up in a ball on each side; the ball above the "U" interrupts four shading lines of the frame, the "mark" closes up the inner space and leaves it solid, while in the original it is open.
3 Cents.—The ribbon inscribed with the value has the border where it is turned under at the left side made dark; in the original it has a white edge surrounding it.
6 Cents.—The ribbon inscribed with the value has four dark lines of shading where it turns under at the left side; in the original these lines are much shorter and thinner.
7 Cents.—The angles of the ball in the right lower corner of frame are capped by a minute semicircle of color: in the original both lower corners are the same.
10 Cents.—The label containing the inscription "U. S. Postage" is bordered with a white line which turns up in a ball at each end. That at the right encloses a minute semi-circular mark; on the original the ball is white on each side.
12 Cents.—The figure 2 at the turn encloses a colored dot above and below; the originals do not show color.
24 Cents.—The last of the half-circle of thirteen stars has the shading of the four lower points deepened; in the original the shading is equal throughout, and the same as on the other stars.
90 Cents.—The shading of the four lower points of the right-hand star has been deepened; in the original both stars are shaded the same.
15 Cents.—The secret mark on this value has not yet been satisfactorily identified. Some think that the mark lies in the outer lines of the triangle at the lower left corner, as some of the Continental printed stamps show a much heavier shading on the enclosing lines than is to be found in the National printed stamps.
30 Cents.—Also doubtful. Some claim that there is a little dot to the left of the oval frame, but this is probably only a transfer guide.
One dealer in New York supplies four varieties of the 1c., two of the 2c., three of the 3c., three of the 6c., two of the 7c., three of the 10c., and two of the 12c., nineteen varieties in all, including the re-engraved stamps, for $3.25.
M. C. H.—The best way to detach stamps from envelopes is to wet them thoroughly, when they can readily be taken off.
J. T. Delano, Jun.—The coins are worth face value only.
Philatus.
Thoroughly revised, classified, and indexed, will be sent by mail to any address on receipt of ten cents.
This Department is conducted in the interest of Bicyclers, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the subject. Our maps and tours contain much valuable data kindly supplied from the official maps and road-books of the League of American Wheelmen. Recognizing the value of the work being done by the L. A. W., the Editor will be pleased to furnish subscribers with membership blanks and information so far as possible.
Continuing the two-days trip out of Philadelphia into New Jersey to Vineland, we start from Salem, where we stopped last week, and where the bicyclist stops for the night. From Salem the best route is the shortest. Moving southward out of the village from the Nelson House, you keep generally to the left, and run out over a straight road, over a gravel road in very good condition, to Quinton. Thence crossing the track, keep always on the main road, turning neither to the left nor right, though the direction is generally to the right immediately after crossing the track. From Quinton it is smooth sailing along a straight road past Bordens Hill into Shiloh. As shown on the map, you come into a road running into Shiloh from the north just by the town, and should turn right into this, being careful to keep to the left again at the meeting of several roads in the village. From this point the road is again direct to Bridgeton. The distance from Salem to Bridgeton is seventeen miles, and the road is all the way as good as a gravel road can well be. It is kept in good condition also, and if you do not have a strong wind against you, you are pretty sure to have a capital run.
If desired, a stop can be made at the Cumberland House in Bridgeton for lunch and a short rest, though the whole run to Vineland is not a long one to take at one stretch. On leaving Bridgeton, take the turnpike direct to Millville, a distance of eleven miles. It is a good road-bed, but not a particularly interesting road so far as scenery goes. Still, it is the shortest and best road to Millville, though hardly the shortest way to go to Vineland. The admirable condition of the road is enough to persuade many to go that way. From Millville to Vineland is a distance of six miles, also along a capital road, side paths being, of course, taken where possible.
The shorter route runs out of Bridgeton on the road to Finley, but the rider should turn off to the right shortly after crossing the railway about three miles out from Bridgeton, and keeping on into Pleasant Grove. Thence he continues to Rosenhayn and Bradway. Keeping to the left of Bradway, the best road-bed is found by keeping on towards the northeast, as shown on the map, until a fork—a meeting of roads—is reached just out of Mill Road. Here a very sharp turn is made to the right, and in less than a mile you come to the main road into Mill Road, whence the direction is straight into Vineland. The Baker House is a good stopping-place at Vineland, and the second night can be comfortably spent there. On the following day a run can be made into Philadelphia direct, or the wheelman can take a train back if he does not want to risk the chance of poorer roads. This whole run, as has been said, can be made in one day, since it is only sixty-two miles by the shortest and sixty-six miles by the Millville routes from Philadelphia. It is a pretty run through picturesque country, and makes one of the best trips out of Philadelphia. There are many other attractive trips out of Philadelphia, but it will be necessary for us now to move on towards Boston, and give some runs in and around that city. We shall begin next week, therefore, by starting from Stamford, Connecticut, and moving on towards Boston in easy stages.
Note.—Map of New York city asphalted streets in No. 809. Map of route from New York to Tarrytown in No. 810. New York to Stamford, Connecticut, in No. 811. New York to Staten Island in No. 812. New Jersey from Hoboken to Pine Brook in No. 813. Brooklyn in No. 814. Brooklyn to Babylon in No. 816. Brooklyn to Northport in No. 816. Tarrytown to Poughkeepsie in No. 817. Poughkeepsie to Hudson in No. 818. Hudson to Albany in No. 819. Tottenville to Trenton in 820. Trenton to Philadelphia in 821. Philadelphia in No. 822. Philadelphia-Wissahickon Route in No. 823. Philadelphia to West Chester in No. 824. Philadelphia to Atlantic City—First Stage in No. 825; Second Stage in No. 826. Philadelphia to Salem in No. 827.
Any questions in regard to photograph matters will be willingly answered by the Editor of this column, and we should be glad to hear from any of our club who can make helpful suggestions.
Blue paper is so easily made, and the materials are so cheap, that one can use a great deal of it and still not go to much expense.
Nothing is better for a photographic outing than the blue paper. The materials can be carried dry and made up as needed, all that is necessary being to mix them with clear water. Any good unglazed paper can be used for the solution, though, of course, the photographic papers are the best.
Blue prints do not curl or exhibit any of the disagreeable traits of other sensitive papers, and therefore are specially fine to illustrate letters or journals, and being so cheap can be used profusely.
Letter-paper may be sensitized, and a picture printed at the top, making a very attractive and original letter-head. Use unglazed writing-paper, and sensitize a strip at the top a little larger than the picture to be printed on it. As all the sensitizing solution not exposed to the light washes off when placed in water, cover all parts of the paper to which it has been applied while printing. After printing put the whole sheet in the water and wash till clear. After it is washed, blot off the superfluous moisture, and place the prints between clean sheets of white paper, and put them under a press till dry. A letter-press is the best, though it must not be screwed down too tight. Several heavy books, a box half full of stones, or a smooth board with several stones laid on top make good presses.
Impressions of wood treasures may be taken on blue-print paper. The printing-frame must have a clear glass which just fits it. On this clear glass lay whatever flower, leaf, spray of which you desire to make the outline. Put a sheet of blue paper over it, and expose to the sun till the paper is slightly bronzed. Wash in several changes of water and dry.
When dry take a fine brush and a cake of French blue water-color and trace the veins of the leaf or flower in the outline. Moths and butterflies can be photographed in this way. Lace patterns can be printed on blue paper. Designs for fancy or needle work can be made with leaves and flowers on blue paper, and are much prettier than those bought in shops, besides being true to Nature. If one has not the gift or accomplishment of drawing, this is an excellent way to make patterns, and they are sure to be correct.
Two formulas have been given in these columns for blue prints. We add one more: