Chatterbox | Page 5

little speech of explanation, ending with the remark that he would apply a torch to the heap of chopped straw and wool beneath the platform. The smoke arising from these different kinds of fuel formed, when combined, he said, the most suitable gas for raising a substance into the air. These diligent brothers, however, had only partly learned the truth as yet, or they would have known that it was the heat, and not the smoke, which lifted the paper bag.
The torch was put to the straw, the yellow flames leapt up, and the smoke, passing through a hole in the platform, entered the open end of the globe-shaped bag, which up to the present had, of course, been lying flat and empty. Instantly a paper dome seemed to rise from the platform. This continued to grow in size, while the workmen stood round in a ring, each holding a rope which passed to the top of the dome. The ropes grew longer and longer as the balloon filled, and it soon became hard work to hold them. But on no account were the men to let go until the word was given.
When at last the paper walls were extended to their uttermost size, the wondering spectators saw a huge ball of some one hundred and ten feet in circumference, swaying uneasily to and fro with every breath of air, as though straining at its fetters. At last came the word. The ropes were released, and the great body rose rapidly into the air, followed by a thunder of applause. With straining eyes the crowd followed that wondrous flight. Higher and higher, nearer and nearer to the clouds, till what a few moments before was so very imposing in size seemed no bigger than a child's plaything. Then, caught in a current of air, it drifted out of sight for ever.
Such was the launching of the first ship in the new navigation of the clouds. On the place from which it started a handsome monument has been erected, bearing the names of the two builders--Joseph and Stephen Montgolfier--the brothers who always worked together, sharing equally the fame that their discovery brought, and never selfishly seeking for self-advancement. Recent searchings seem to show that the principal honour is due to Joseph, the elder, and, if one of the many stories told in detail (and repeated at the beginning of this article) may be relied upon, surely we ought to also remember with some praise the unknown woman who let lodgings in Avignon.
JOHN LEA.

THE WAY TO WIN.
'I wish I could win one!' a lassie was sighing, When sitting quite still in a meadow one day, And thinking of prizes not won without trying-- Not won by mere wishing as time slips away.
And as she sat wishing she heard a hen clucking; She lifted her eyes and that hen she could see, And soon it was rapidly scratching and chucking-- As gay and as busy and glad as could be.
She watched how it struggled to upturn a treasure, A thing it was wishing for, something to eat, A worm to be dug for with patience and pleasure! 'Twas found, and it gave Henny-Penny a treat!
That worm the hen wished for she could not have eaten Unless she had scratched it right up from the ground; And Mabel had seen that the hen was not beaten-- By carefully working the prize had been found.
So Mabel thought quietly over the matter, And learnt the good lesson, 'No prize can be won By thinking and wishing, by waiting and chatter!' And soon she jumped up and to work she begun.
D. H.

FREED IN VAIN.
Prince, the parrot, was a proud and happy bird; he was proud of his gorgeous red and green feathers, of his ability to say 'Pretty Poll' and 'How do?' and, above all, of his fine gilded cage, which stood just inside the breakfast-room window.
But, in an evil hour, Prince, watching the birds which flew to and fro outside the glass, was struck with a desire for freedom. He thought no more of his splendid feathers, or his handsome cage; but, from morning till night, he wondered how he should get out. There was not wit enough in his parrot brain to make him understand that the cold English garden was not in the least like the flowery forest of his native island.
His chance came one snowy morning; the French window had been opened, after breakfast, that some one might go out and scatter crumbs for the robins. The cage-door happened to be open too. Unobserved, Prince darted swiftly out, and perched amid the leafless boughs of one of the high trees on the lawn.
He was free! but, oh, how cold it was! How wretched he was already beginning to feel! He crouched shivering on