And so little Madge earned a whole silver dollar for half a day's standing in one position before the artist, who was delighted with his model, and made a charming likeness of her, matches, ragged dress, bare feet, and all. The child left the locket with her new friend to be taken care of until she might find the owner, and then went crying matches through the streets, with a happy heart, little dreaming of what would result from her morning's work.
Only a few days after that a visitor to the artist's studio was admiring his latest picture, called "The Model Match Girl."
"What a strange title?" she said.
And he laughed as he replied: "Yes, I gave it that name to please my wife, who brought me the girl. She was really a model in regard to honesty." And then he told the story of the locket, and of the gratitude of the little girl for the ice-cream the kind owner of the locket had given her; and finally the locket was produced, and recognized by the visitor as her own.
"It must have fallen from my chain while I talked to the child, and yet the dishonest girl got hold of it, after all, before my little match girl had seen it. How I wish I could find her!"
Said the artist in reply: "Well, the girl is coming in a day or two to look at the picture, and I will send her to you. I had no idea that it was you from whom the locket had been stolen. It is strange indeed!"
And thus ere very long Madge met her first kind friend, and was led to tell the whole story of her pitiful life and craving for love. And at last, through the lady's continued kindness, little Madge was transferred with many other little children from the crowded, noisy, and unwholesome street which had so long been her home, to the care of those whose business it is to take just such poor orphaned little ones to new and happy homes far off in the country, where warm, kind hearts are willing and anxious to adopt them, and bring them up to useful womanhood.
Madge wrote a letter to the lady not long ago, and after telling about her happy times in her new home, she added, "And, oh! Mrs. ----, this dear lady here _kisses_ me good-night always, and it feels just as if I had a mother after all."
[Begun in HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE No. 37, July 13.]
THE STORY OF THE AMERICAN NAVY.
BY BENSON J. LOSSING.
CHAPTER VI.
Soon after her exciting chase the _Constitution_ sailed from Boston in search of the British frigate _Guerriere_, whose Captain (Dacres) had boastfully enjoined the Americans to remember that she was not the _Little Belt_. On the 19th of August, 1812, the _Constitution_ fell in with her, and Hull skillfully managed to lay his vessel alongside the British frigate, to have a battle at close quarters. The _Guerriere_ opened fire at once; the _Constitution_ kept silent for a while. As the shot from the English frigate began to make havoc on the _Constitution_, Hull's second in command (Lieutenant Morris) asked permission to open fire. "Not yet," quietly said Hull. The request was soon repeated. "Not yet," was the calm reply. A moment afterward, Hull, filled with intense excitement, shouted, "Now, boys, pour it into them!"
[Illustration: THE "CONSTITUTION" AND "GUERRIeRE."--DRAWN BY J. O.
DAVIDSON.]
This command was obeyed with terrible effect. The guns of the _Constitution_ were double-shotted and did fearful work. The frigates were only half-pistol-shot distance from each other. The excitement on both sides was intense. "Hull her! hull her!" shouted Lieutenant Morris.
"Hull her! hull her!" shouted the crew in response, for they instantly comprehended the pun. Very soon the _Guerriere_ was a shivered, shorn, and helpless wreck, rolling like a log in the trough of the sea. Hull sent an officer on board to inquire of Dacres whether he had struck his flag. Looking up and down, Dacres coolly replied, "Well, I don't know: our mizzenmast is gone, our mainmast is gone, and, upon the whole, you may say we _have_ struck our flag."
This victory greatly inspirited the Americans, and astonished the English. Hull was highly honored by the citizens and Congress, from which he received valuable tokens of regard. The London _Times_ said, "The new enemy, unaccustomed to such triumphs, is likely to be rendered insolent and confident by them."
At mid-autumn, 1812, Captain Jacob Jones, in the fast-sailing sloop of war _Wasp_, achieved a notable victory over the British war schooner _Frolic_, convoying six merchantmen, four of which were well armed. They fought at close quarters, under very little sail, and soon became entangled, when the crew of the _Wasp_ made their way to the deck of the _Frolic_ just after it was swept by a raking broadside. They found no one to oppose them. A few surviving officers stood on the quarter-deck, most of them wounded. Lieutenant Biddle, who led the boarding party, hauled down the British flag. When the vessels separated both masts of the _Frolic_, with the tattered rigging, fell upon the deck, which was covered with the dead. Two hours after the victory the British ship of war _Poictiers_ appeared, and captured the crippled _Wasp_ with the more crippled _Frolic_. Nevertheless, the news of the victory was received with great joy in the United States, and Jones was the recipient of many honors.
Precisely a month after this victory a more important one was achieved by Decatur with the frigate _United States_. On October 26, near the island of Madeira, he gave chase to a British vessel of war, and overtook her. An action was immediately begun at long range, but soon afterward they engaged at close quarters. When the battle had lasted half an hour, the shot of the _United States_ carried away her antagonist's mizzenmast. Then her main and foretop masts fell, and she was dreadfully bruised in her hull. The _United States_ was yet unhurt.
Perceiving longer resistance to be vain, the British commander struck his colors and surrendered.
"What is the name of your ship?" shouted Decatur.
"His Majesty's frigate _Macedonian_," replied her commander.
This victory produced a profound sensation in England and the United States. In the former it created astonishment and gloomy forebodings, for it appeared as if the Republic of the West was about to snatch the sceptre from the acknowledged "Mistress of the Seas," and that they might no longer sing, as they had for a century,
"Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves."
Hull generously retired from the _Constitution_, after his victory, to give some brother officer a chance to win fame on the "lucky" vessel.
Bainbridge succeeded him in command, and was put in charge of a small squadron. With the _Constitution_ and _Hornet_ he sailed from Boston late in October, 1812, and at the close of December encountered the British frigate _Java_ off the coast of South America, not far from Bahia. They had a most desperate battle, which lasted about two hours, when the _Java_, which had lost her three masts and her bowsprit in the fight, and was leaking badly, was surrendered to Bainbridge. She was one of the finest frigates in the Royal Navy, and was conveying the Governor-General of Bombay and his staff, with more than a hundred officers and soldiers, to the East Indies. Like Hull, Jones, and Decatur, Bainbridge received unstinted honors from his countrymen.
The hulk of the _Java_ was not worth saving; and after transferring the passengers and surviving crew to the _Constitution_, she was fired and blown up. From that time the _Constitution_ was called "Old Ironsides."
This fourth brilliant naval victory in the course of a few months caused much exultation in the United States. Meanwhile there had been minor victories, and some defeats. Privateers were numerous, and very active.
During six months the American public and private cruisers had captured about three hundred prizes from the British. These successes dispelled the gloom occasioned by misfortunes to the land forces; the friends of the navy were justified and strengthened, and thenceforward no one ventured to speak in disparagement of it. Congress, perceiving the necessity of an increase in the force of the navy, authorized the President to have four 74-gun ships, six frigates, and six sloops of war built.
Bainbridge had left the _Hornet_, Captain Lawrence, blockading the harbor of Bahia, in which was sheltered a British treasure ship. A British 74 came up from the Brazilian capital, and drove the _Hornet_ into the harbor. She escaped under cover of darkness, and on the 24th of February, 1813, fell in with, fought, and vanquished the British brig of war _Peacock_. The brig had borne down upon the _Hornet_, and as they passed each other each delivered a broadside. Then, by a quick movement, the _Hornet_ closed upon the _Peacock_, and poured round-shot into her for about fifteen minutes. The _Peacock_ struck her colors, and at the same time raised a signal of distress. Her mainmast soon fell overboard, and she was in a sinking condition. The removal of the wounded to the _Hornet_ was at once begun. At twilight she went down, carrying with her thirteen of her own crew and several of those of the _Hornet_. Nine of the former and three of the latter were drowned. The _Hornet_ had only one man killed in the engagement; she lost more in trying to save her enemies than in conquering them.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
[Illustration]
BY R. K. MUNKITTRICK.
A quagga stood under a palm In evening's violet calm.
When a lion passed by, With a hungerful eye, The quagga ran off in alarm.
[Illustration]
ADRIFT.
BY MRS. M. E. SANGSTER.
Adrift upon a silver tide, With banks of green on either side, And, far above, a smiling sky, A tiny craft goes floating by.
Queer little boat, this woven nest, Where birdies three had tranquil rest Until a rough wind shook the tree, And sent them sailing off to sea.
Oh, father-bird and mother-bird, In you what trouble will be stirred When, home returned from weary flight, You learn your babies' hapless plight!
HYGROMETERS, AND HOW TO MAKE THEM
Do not let any one who sees this somewhat out-of-the-way name imagine it is anything very dreadful. It is merely that of an instrument for measuring the moisture in the atmosphere.
Nearly every boy and girl has seen the chalet-like "weather-house,"