Would you like to know how to make corn-husk dolls?

Select the soft, white husks growing next to the ear-the softer and more moist the better. Then dampen them a little in water, to make them more pliable. Next, pick out from your entire stock the most perfect piece you can find,-the softest, as well as widest,-double it across the center, and place a piece of strong, coarse thread through it, as in Figure No. 1. Lay this aside; next place the stiff ends of two or three husks together, and, folding other husks in lengthwise strips, wind them

FIGURE NO. 1. THE FIRST HUSK.

There

Now that the season for corn-husking is at hand, we are reminded of a very ingenious as well as novel use to which corn-husks can be put. are many little girls living in the country, where corn grows plentifully, who would perhaps like to hear of this new way of using the husks for their special enjoyment.

You doubtless know how ingenious little Indian girls are, and what pretty bead-work they accomplish, and what wonderful baskets they make. Well, these black-eyed, dark-skinned little girls are, after all, much like their pale-faced sisters in tastes, and, like them, must have their dolls. Unlike them, however, they do not often buy them ready-made. but, instead, they invent all sorts of devices for making them with their own deft fingers. Their favorite method is to use corn-husks, from which they will fashion dolls that are almost as pretty as those made of costlier material, and sometimes more shapely, besides.

FIGURE NO. 2. THE FIRST HUSK, BUNCHED TOGETHER.

around the ends thus placed, until they make what you consider the proper size for a head, according to Figure No. 3. Then, taking the husk you laid aside, as in Figure No. 1, draw it, as in Figure No. 2, until it is bunched tightly, then tie it

You must be careful not to have them ill-shaped. Perhaps your first attempt will be a sad failure. The head may be askew, the arms and legs may be all awry; there may be odds and ends that you can neither tie up nor hide away, and, altogether, her ladyship may present a decidedly disreputable appearance. But never mind. It will only give you something to laugh at. Try again, and keep on trying until you are rewarded with success. You may, in time, come to wonder at your own skill. At all events, it will serve as a pleasant pastime for some rainy day, when you are longing for new diversion.

Almost every child who has been in the country has made, or has tried to make, a corn-cob baby. Those who have not succeeded in their efforts will, perhaps, be glad to try again, in this way, which is very easy and simple:

FLOWER-DOLL.

head to the arms; stick the other end of the twig into the corn-cob, and the doll is ready for dressing.

The bonnet is made of a leaf, just where it grows from the stalk, and is fastened with a thorn. Before putting the bonnet on, however, the silk must be pulled up over the head, to form hair. Make the skirt and scarf of part of the leaf, and the doll's toilet is complete.

other doll, are used for the features, and the coat is cut from the corn-leaf.

The flower-lady is made of the common garden flowers. The under-skirt is a petunia; a Canterbury-bell forms the over-skirt and waist; small twigs, or broom straws, stuck through buds of the

The boy-doll will require very little explanation. A corn-cob forms the body and head, while the legs are a portion of the leaf rolled up and fastened to the body with a strong piece of grass. Wild beans are used for the arms and feet. The cap is made from the same part of the leaf which forms the girl's bonnet, only it is placed on the head differently. Rose-bush thorns, as in the

pea, with a phlox blossom for a bonnet. reversed daisy makes a very nice parasol.

A

If these flowers cannot be procured, those of a similar shape will answer just as well.

Flower-dolls are very easily made, and, from the hints here given, the readers of ST. NICHOLAS can make any number of these summer dollies. The pictures are not from imagination, but sketches of actual dolls.

A CERTAIN celebrated story-teller relates that

"There was an old woman who had three sons,

Benjamin, William, and John.

One was hanged, and one was drowned,

One was lost, and never was found,

And that was the end of the three sons,
Benjamin, William, and John."

Not long ago, I found a more full and explicit account of the same persons in the Blue Book of Wire Brier Tobit, which explains the lines I have quoted above, and gives the history of this wonderful family up to the time when the parents died.

Many years ago, John Doe, with his wife Mary Jane, lived in the town of Doeville, which is situated, as every one knows, exactly in the center of the empire of Brasstossig.

John was a farmer, and had wide fields of barley, and wheat, and rye, and two score of fat cattle; and Mary Jane was what every woman was born to be, a housewife.

They might have been happy together, but they were not. John had a furious temper, and gave way to terrible fits of rage; and Mary Jane was so stingy, she grudged even the air of heaven to any one but herself. The wood and field fairies were scared from the place by John's angry screams; and as Mary Jane never left any milk and bread by the hearth for the house-fairies, they left also; and no family can be happy after it has been forsaken by the little people.

One summer, a little son was born to John and

After the baby was born, the field-fairies fluttered about the house a little while, for they love children; but they were soon frightened away. They pitied Benjamin,-for so the baby was called,

and thought it too bad that he must grow up under such wicked influences; so, one moonlight night, while his parents were sound asleep, they stole him, and left a little straw-baby, that looked the very image of him, in his place.

The straw-baby thrived and grew, and, when it was two years old, and could scream and kick quite like its foster-father, another child was born, whom they named William. When the house-fairies saw his blue eyes and yellow hair, they loved him, and, unwilling to leave him in such an unhappy home, they stole him, and left a dough-baby in his place.

In time, a third son was born, and they called him John, after his father. It had seemed as though the wicked Mr. and Mrs. Doe were as bad as they could be, but after John was born they

grew worse. The gentle wood-fairies determined to save him; so they took a nice white basswood block, and carved a baby out of it that looked exactly like John, and, when they had a chance, they stole John, and left the wooden baby in his cradle. The parents never guessed that their children had been stolen, and that changelings were growing up in their household. Their evil tempers made their eye-sight poor, and the fairies had done their work well.

The years went by, and the babies grew into manhood. Benjamin, the straw changeling, resembled his father in character and features, and was his favorite. William, the dough changeling, was his mother's pet, and was very like her in mind and body. John, who was made of the basswood stick, resembled no one but himself, and was so stupid the neighbors called him "Blockhead Doe."

When Benjamin was twenty-one years old, his father gave him a bag of beans and a new claspknife, and sent him out into the world to seek his fortune.

He traveled across deserts and plains until he reached the city of Amsterdam, where the first person he met was a custom-house official, who commanded him to open his bean-bag, that he might inspect it.

"I will not!" screamed Benjamin.

One day he heard that in a distant country there was a gold mine of untold richness, and off he started to find it. Soon he came to a wide, deep river. The ferryman would not carry him over it without a fee, so he resolved to swim across. He swam well for a little way, but he soon became water-soaked, and the heavy bag of gold to which he clung carried him to the bottom, and he rose no

more.

When the news of his death reached Doeville, his mother wept bitterly. "It was I who taught him such saving ways," she sobbed.

As the death of Benjamin had softened the disposition of the father, William's death made generosity spring up in the soul of the mother, and now she asked herself, "To whom can I give? Whom can I make happy?" not "How can I save?" as in former times.

John was twenty-five before he left home. The sorrow his parents felt at the death of their older sons, and a suspicion that John was not well prepared to deal with the cunning world, made them hold him back; but at last he demanded that in his turn he might try his luck, so, with his parents' blessing, and a well-filled purse, he set out.

Round the world he went, like the Wandering Jew, but somehow he could never remember where he came from, nor where he was going, so he could only go on, and on, like the wooden-head he was,

"I sha' n't for him, nor anybody!" roared Ben

jamin, in a furious passion.

"You shall!" cried the officer.

Mr. and Mrs. Doe grew bent and gray and old, but so much were they changed in disposition and conduct, that all the country loved them.

Benjamin was put in prison, and after a trial which lasted two years, two months, and two days, was executed.

After his death, it was found that, instead of the proper interior parts of the human body, there was only shining rye-straw inside of him.

An official dispatch was duly sent to Mr. and Mrs. Doe, announcing the execution of their son, and his crime.

"If

"Alas! alas!" cried the unhappy father. I had only trained him right. If I only had!” And, after that, his family and neighbors noticed a curious change in him; he grew better-tempered, and sometimes a whole month passed without witnessing one of his anger-fits.

When William was twenty-one, his mother gave him a bag of golden ducats, and bade him scek his fortune in the great world. He traveled about, always clasping his bag of ducats to his bosom, and, if possible, adding to his store, but finding neither friends nor pleasure.

field fairies flitted about the cottage without fear.

When the little people saw that sorrow had become a purifying fire to these two hearts, and that their souls were growing beautiful as their bodies withered, they resolved to give them the unspeakable joy of seeing their real children.

They had bestowed the tenderest and wisest care upon the babies they had stolen, and the three had become great and noble men. Benjamin was a statesman, high in the confidence of the emperor; William was a general, whose gallant deeds and brilliant victories were the pride of all Brasstossig; and John was a learned clergyman, whose good deeds were known all the country round.

The fairies bade them appear together before the door of John Doe of Doeville on midsummer day, and they came promptly. Benjamin wore his finest court-dress, glittering with jeweled orders; William wore his uniform, his sword at his side, and the iron cross upon his breast; and John had on a plain gown of black silk, as became a pastor; and Mr. and Mrs. Doe were the most